There was just something in the air on this particular morning—like a beloved song just on the edge of hearing, or the smell of the land after a rainfall—that filled Princess Celestia with a wistful yearning. Memories of crisp air beneath her made her feathers twitch as she went about her morning ritual of tea and meditation while enduring the ministration of her morning groomers—after all, the Princess does not brush her own coat.
That thought brought a slightly discordant note to an otherwise lovely dawn. When was the last time she'd gone flying simply for the joy of it? she wondered as she sipped her tea. She realized, with some despondency, that she simply couldn't remember.
With a sigh, she pushed that thought out of her head. There were many things on this day's docket, all of which required the personal touch of Equestria's sole princess. Trade agreements don't write themselves, after all, and the nobility expected a certain amount of pomp and propriety in their lives. Duty demanded only one thing: her absolute dedication. Such was her life, as it had been for centuries.
The Royal Groomers finished their morning attentions, bringing Celestia's coat up to a bright, silky shine, and her hooves to mirror-polished brilliance. Not that the hooves mattered much, she thought wryly as she slipped on her gilded Royal Slippers. The attendants left with identical bows, and Celestia allowed herself a quiet moment of solitary contemplation while she finished her tea. Then, with a sigh, she made her way to the door to begin the day's events.
The guards stationed in the hallway, a pair of unicorn stallions, straightened almost imperceptibly when she opened the door. For a long moment, Celestia regarded them, her lips pursed in thought.
"Highness?" the one on the right asked. Periwinkle, she thought his name was. "Is everything alright?"
Celestia made up her mind in that moment. "I believe I won't require an escort to the throne room today."
The two guards exchanged a look. "Your Majesty," probably-Periwinkle said, "we must provide for your safety—"
One elegantly-sculpted eyebrow arched at this. "This is the most secure wing in the castle, is it not?"
"Er... yes, your Majesty, but—"
"And I am powerful enough to raise the sun and moon every day, correct?"
"Well, yes—"
"And I am certainly old enough to watch after myself, correct?"
"Of course, Princess. However—"
"I simply wish some time alone, Periwinkle."
The two guards exchanged looks again. Celestia sighed. "I got your name wrong, didn't I?"
"I, uh... You may be thinking of my grandfather." Not-Periwinkle licked his lips and looked around, as if desperate for a route of escape. "You can call me Periwinkle if you like, your Majesty."
Celestia let out a mighty sigh and closed her eyes, counting slowly to ten. Unfortunately, the guards were still there when she opened them again. "I find myself in something of a mood this morning," she announced. "I shall be requiring some time alone. So, on your way with you. Back to the barracks, or whatever it is you do when you're not guarding the Royal Hindquarters."
Yet another look was exchanged. Celestia considered the possibility that her guards had somehow spontaneously developed telepathy. Her suspicions were only reinforced when they both bowed simultaneously and chorused, "Yes, Princess!" before turning at the same time and marching away.
Celestia watched them go for a moment before shaking her head. It shouldn't be so difficult, she thought, to simply get some solitude before I throw myself horn-first into the gears of the Canterlot bureaucracy. She began to make her way as slowly as she dared towards the throne room.
The solitude, unfortunately, didn't have the desired effect. Even as she made her way through the long, tastefully-appointed halls of Canterlot Castle, her mood only darkened further. A small, nagging voice in the back of her mind told her she'd been both unfair and unkind to her guards who, after all, only had her well-being at heart. No matter how their constant presence grated on her nerves from time to time.
It was while lost in these thoughts that Celestia passed a small, fuzzy lump which didn't really register at first. When the image finally made its way through, she came to a halt and turned, not quite sure if she'd seen what she thought she'd seen.
At first, it was as if her eyes were deceiving her. It was incredibly unlikely that a small filly, far too young for her cutie mark, would be standing in the hallway this close to the royal apartments. A small earth pony filly, wearing an adorable set of saddlebags over a pale golden coat, and with a mane as dark as the finest chocolate. A filly who was staring up at her with wide, incredibly blue eyes.
"You're Princess Celestia?" the filly asked softly, as if unsure of what she was seeing.
Celestia blinked, then looked up and down the absurdly long hallway, which vanished into the distance in either direction. Really, the castle is just too ridiculously huge, she thought as she looked for any signs of the filly's parents. "Yes, I suppose that I am."
"Woooow...." the filly said. "You raise the sun?"
"Yes, I do."
"And the moon, too?"
A pained smile crossed Celestia's muzzle. "I do, child. Where are your parents?"
A small frown appeared on the filly's face. "Dunno. I got lost."
With some alarm, Celestia noted that the child's lower lip began to tremble. Tears began pooling in those startlingly-blue eyes. "Now, now," she said quickly, "no need for alarm. I'm sure I can help you find them."
"You will?" The frown transformed instantly into a joyful grin. "Okay!" the filly exclaimed. "I'm Heather Mist!"
"Heather Mist. Such a lovely name! Do you recall which direction you last saw your parents, dear?"
"Umm..." Heather Mist's face screwed up in concentration as she first looked down the eastward length of the hallway, and then the westward. "I'm not sure."
Of course. Celestia checked a sigh. "Well, with no other direction in mind, shall we proceed to the throne room? I can send some ponies to find them after we arrive."
"Okay!"
The filly fell in beside her as she walked, and Celestia found herself moving at an almost glacially slow pace in order to keep from leaving the much smaller filly behind. I'm going to be late, she realized, and for a moment she felt a burning resentment. Not towards the filly, of course, but towards the situation. And, if she were to be completely honest, towards the parents who would let such a small child wander the palace freely.
Celestia glanced down and saw the look of intense concentration on Heather Mist's face. The poor girl was really straining to keep up, her short legs nearly blurring underneath her thin frame. For a moment, the Princess wondered if she should offer to let the filly ride on her back before dismissing the thought. The nobles would tell her that it wouldn't be proper, she decided. The Princess of Equestria didn't stoop to carrying foals around. She grit her teeth, once again feeling those invisible bonds of obligation that, sometimes, made her feel like she was suffocating.
Well, nopony can fault me for delivering a filly to safely, she thought, mildly surprised at the ember of fierce defiance that sparked in her heart. With a sense of gleeful rebellion, she slowed her gait even further, and was pleased to see the strain disappearing from Heather Mist's expression.
"Am I going to get in trouble?" Heather Mist asked.
"Not with me," Princess Celestia assured her. "I can't speak for your parents, however."
The filly bit her lip and studied the floor for a moment. "You could talk to my mom, though. Right? You could tell her 'Heather Mist isn't in trouble, because I say so!' Or something. Right?" A hopeful look peered up at her.
Celestia chuckled. "That's not something I can say."
Heather Mist pouted. "You can't? Why not?"
"Being a Princess doesn't mean I can do whatever I want."
The tiny filly let out a harrumph. "That's silly. Why even be a Princess, then?"
"To lead the nation as best I can," she said. And to listen to old blowhards who think their interest should be supreme because they're from the 'old blood', she didn't say. "To keep my ponies safe and happy," she added, while thinking, no matter the cost to myself or my sanity. "To lead by example, by always being my best, no matter how much I might wish to take a break and simply go flying one day. To listen to endless streams of petitioners, all of whom have navigated their way past the officials I set up to handle problems just like theirs, but who somehow feel it's not 'official' until the Princess signs off on it. To never have a moment to myself unless I demand it, and even then I feel guilty about doing so!"
She wasn't quite shouting, she realized as a cold horror crept over her. But, glancing down at a cringing Heather Mist, who had her ears pinned back in obvious fright, she realized she might as well have been screaming.
"I'm sorry," the filly whispered just before Celestia had the chance to say the same.
A breath caught in Celestia's chest, and she knelt down, scooping up the filly in a wing so large that it engulfed her completely. "Oh, child, no. No, I am sorry. I'm afraid I let my feelings get away from me for a moment. You have done nothing to be sorry for."
Heather Mist was weeping, though. Celestia could feel the damp spot on her otherwise pristine white coat. The filly mumbled something into her shoulder, and Celestia shook her head. "I couldn't quite make that out, dear."
"Y-you wa-anted to, to, be alone," Heather Mist said wretchedly, her breath catching in between sobs. "But you can't, 'cuz of me!"
Celestia closed her eyes and sighed. When did I become so short-tempered? she wondered What happened to my patience?. She nuzzled the filly beside her. "I've been having a rough time, recently, it's true. But I certainly couldn't be upset with a wonderful little filly like you."
"Really?"
"Really," Celestia said, then kissed the filly on the forehead. "Would you like a ride on my back?"
That brought an end to the weeping, which faded into a shy smile. "Okay!"
It was the work of a moment to pick the filly up and place her just behind her withers. And if the nobles complain about my supposed lack of dignity, to Tartarus with them, she decided.
There were tiny, shifting points of pressure on her back as the filly moved around and made herself comfortable before finally lying down. "So, Princesses can have bad days, too?" Heather Mist asked.
"Oh, yes," Princess Celestia replied. "Don't tell anypony, though. It's a secret!"
Heather Mist giggled, and Celestia felt a spring returning to her step.
"I had a bad day," the filly confessed after a moment.
"Oh?"
"I, um..." A small hoof traced a circle in Celestia's coat. "I might have run away from my mom."
"Today, you mean?"
"Uh-huh."
"Why would you do that?"
"We came to see the castle. Only, my little brother was being a brat. He's only a baby. But he wouldn't stop crying."
"I understand that babies do that, sometimes." Most likely, Heather Mist and her mother must have come with one of the many tour groups that came through the less-restricted sections of the castle several times per day. That, at least, gave her a place to start looking when it came time to return the filly.
"Well, he does it all the time. Mom was trying to make him stop, but I wanted to see the palace. Mom didn't want to let me, and we got into a fight and..."
"And so you just left on your own?" Celestia guessed.
"...yes," Heather Mist confessed in a small voice.
"I see."
"Do you think she'll be mad at me?"
"Oh, definitely," Celestia replied. "But not at first. The first thing she'll do is fuss over you and tell you how glad she is she to see you again."
Heather Mist hummed softly to herself while she mulled that over. "Do you really think so?"
"I'm fairly certain, yes."
"And you really can't order her not to be mad at me?" came the plaintive question.
Celestia couldn't help but chuckle. "No, I am sorry to say. Even the power of a Princess has its limits."
Heather Mist let out a forlorn sigh. "Well, okay, I guess. But she's gonna scold me for sure, then."
They walked along in silence for a while longer until Celestia realized that, even with the filly on her back, she hadn't increased her speed at all. Almost as if I don't wish to reach the throne room, she thought with a snort.
"I feel kinda bad," Heather Mist confessed from her nest between Celestia's wings.
"Oh? How so?"
"She's not a bad mommy. I just get mad sometimes."
"I think that's understandable."
"She lets me have a cookie after dinner."
"Does she?" Celestia glanced over her shoulder to see the filly nodding.
"Yes. I don't like alfalfa."
"Not everypony does," Celestia replied, repressing a shudder.
"So, Mom gives me a cookie if I finish it. She says, 'Everything tastes better if you know you have a cookie waiting for you'."
Celestia smiled. "Your mother is a wise mare."
"Yup!"
And it was as if the floodgates opened. Heather Mist started talking without restraint, her excited voice chirping away about school, and about friends, about her mother and her baby brother, and about her father who was away with the Equestrian Army right now, but who visited whenever he could. Far from being annoyed by the babble, Celestia found herself relaxing. The concerns of a filly were so different, so much more simple, than her own. And, in her own way, Heather Mist was a fascinating conversationalist, completely unabashed about dominating the conversation with matters that were of great import to a seven-year-old. The parks she played in, and the friends she made in school. And reading a whole book on her own, something she was immensely proud of.
"And I make the best crescent moons in hoof-painting," she said at one point.
There was a small hitch in Celestia's gait, a pause as she remembered another filly from long ago. "Oh?" she asked, looking back at her passenger.
"Yup! I just do this!" She held up a hoof and turned it sideways so that the hoof wall made a smooth "C" shape. "That's my secret. Nopony else in class knows it, so you have to promise not to tell."
"I promise," Princess Celestia said somberly. "And the word of a Princess is her bond."
It wasn't long after that when the doors to the throne room came into sight, and Princess Celestia's impromptu vacation came to an end. Inkwell, her personal secretary, was pacing back and forth outside of the entrance while chewing nervously on a quill.
"Princess!" Inkwell shouted, then paused a moment to make "Pthht! Pthht!" noises while scraping at her tongue.
"I'm not sure what else you expected after chewing on quills, Inkwell," Celestia said, allowing herself a small smile at the other mare's discomfort.
"I was worried!" Inkwell stated in a voice just shy of a shout. "You're never late to court! Er... Princess," she added with a belated bow.
Celestia quickly noted the time according to the grandfather clock next to the door. "Oh, it's only been an extra twenty minutes," she said. "Something more important came up."
"With all due respect, your Majesty, what could be more important than Day Court?"
Celestia's horn lit up and lifted the filly up off of her back, holding her out before the startled secretary. "This," she said. "Say hello to Inkwell, Heather Mist."
"Hello, Inkwell," Heather Mist said with a giggle.
Inkwell took a startled step back. "Er, um, hello... small filly. Where is your mother?"
"Dunno," Heather Mist replied with a shrug.
"That seems to be the question of the hour," Celestia said. "Obviously, we must find her before court can begin."
"But, Princess, the nobles are waiting—"
"And I'm sure they can continue to do so without undergoing undue strain," Celestia stated firmly. "My top priority at the moment is finding this filly's mother, who is no doubt frantic about her missing daughter. Would you be kind enough to try and find her, please?"
"Oh, um... Of course, Princess. I'll be right back!" And, with that, Inkwell charged off, only to charge back a moment later. "Um. What was the mother's name?"
Heather Mist giggled again. "Honeydew," she said.
"I believe they were with a tour group," Celestia said. "You may wish to start there."
"Right." Inkwell nodded and once again charged off down the hallway.
"She's funny," Heather Mist giggled.
"She's overworked," Celestia said, frowning after the retreating mare. "And I don't do enough to make life easier for her."
"You should change that, then."
"Yes. Yes, I should." Celestia set the filly down on the floor and gave her a quick nuzzle. "You are a wise filly."
"Yup!"
The two of them laughed together.
Court was delayed a further ten minutes before Inkwell came charging back, this time followed by a pair of Royal Guards and a frantic-looking mare with a definite resemblance to Heather Mist. A gleefully laughing colt was strapped to the mare's back as she ran directly towards the small filly, who shrank back between Celestia's forelegs.
"Oh, my baby, I was so worried about you!" Honeydew cried as she gathered her wayward daughter into a fierce hug.
Celestia leaned down and whispered, "I told you so," into Heather Mist's ear. This brought a gasp of shock from the filly's mother, who immediately tried to bow while still clutching her daughter.
"Oh, a thousand pardons, Princess! I'm so sorry if we've caused you any inconvenience!" She glared down at the squirming filly in her grip. "You are in so much trouble when we get home, young lady!"
"I told you so," Heather Mist muttered to Celestia, who let out a little laugh.
"It was no inconvenience, I assure you," Celestia said. "You have a wonderful daughter. Please, don't be too hard on her. We all make mistakes and lose our tempers from time to time."
"O-of course, your Majesty," Honeydew stuttered, bowing once again, Heather Mist protesting as her mother's hoof pressed her head gently towards the floor.
"Well, I suppose I must, at last, get the Day Court started," Celestia said. "Good bye, Heather Mist. It was truly a pleasure speaking to you."
Heather Mist grinned up at her. "Same for me, Princess!"
Celestia waved as the filly, accompanied by her mother and gurgling baby brother, were escorted away by the two Royal Guard. Heather Mist waved back, and then they turned a corner and were gone.
"Inkwell, thank you."
"Your Majesty?"
"For all that you do. I don't say it enough, I think."
"Oh!" The mare blushed even while she grinned hugely. "Well, it's my honor to serve, Princess."
"I'll be increasing the staff budget. I think it's time we hire you an assistant."
"Really?"
"Yes. Oh, and could you see if you can rearrange my schedule a bit this afternoon? I need to block out an hour."
"Oh, um..." Inkwell's horn glowed, and a clipboard containing the day's schedule rose up in her magic. "Well, I suppose we could shuffle appointments around, perhaps ask one of the delegates to reschedule... Yes, it's do-able. Did something come up?"
"You could say that," Celestia replied with an impish grin. "I'm going to go flying."
Inkwell blinked at that. "Flying, your Majesty? I'm... I'm not sure I understand."
"A very wise filly once said to me, 'everything tastes better if you know you have a cookie waiting for you'."
"Cookie?" Inkwell tilted her head, her brows knitting in confusion. "I don't understand, Princess. Did you want me to fetch some cookies for you?"
"No." Celestia replied. "Wait. Yes. Please arrange to have some brought into the throne room. But what I meant is that I feel the need to stretch my wings."
"Oh, well. I'm sure that could be arranged, Princess."
"Thank you, Inkwell." Princess Celestia walked to the doors and took a moment to make sure her regalia was on straight. "Well. Let's get started, then, shall we?"