Princess Celestia clicked her tongue with the faintest, lightest disapproval she could convey and calmly looked upward, lighting her horn up with golden magic in the process. She adjusted the festive, low-hanging garland that had gotten caught on her horn. Soon, it was tucked right where it belonged as was neatly bordering the doorway — which was long ago constructed with her, ah, generous stature in mind, and bore all the stunning features one would expect from a timeless structure like Canterlot Castle.
Once she was done, Celestia stepped back into the room to admire her work, however minor it was. The holly sprigs and the beautiful door, colored in soothing shades of purple and gold-trimmed, were a lovely mood-lifter to anypony who looked upon them. If there was anypony who doubted the concept of 'holiday cheer' it wasn't Princess Celestia.
She lit her horn again, and delicately fished a few peppermint candies and small chocolates from a nearby vase that was brimming with them. A small, friendly sign read for anypony to have some, whether it was Princess Celestia, who didn't mind a treat or two; Luna, who had a sweet tooth when it came to such small treats; a maid who simply wished to have a piece of candy... or Qilin, the little kirin filly, whose mismatched limbs and small bursts of chaos magic who would be eager to have a sweet treat clutched in her grabby toddler hooves.
Celestia sighed deeply now that nopony was around and popped a few candies into her mouth. She could imagine the delighted cooing of little Qilin at discovering the taste of peppermint, wherever her father was taking her this Hearth's Warming Day. Celestia had no doubt that Discord would be allowing Qilin to indulge in as much of the foalish behavior of stuffing herself with candy, even at her tender age.
Even though Celestia wasn't the — ahem — 'prime parent' for the year, as Discord liked to put it, she had been called over on Nightmare Night. It was only a few months earlier, and she had been required to sort out something that went far beyond a simple 'tummy ache' in the young one.
Celestia never minded that she saw the little one in intervals instead of more consistently. She had Equestria to rule too, and arrangements like that had to be done. Discord certainly enjoyed it. They kept in touch. She managed the expected things... and he... well, he looked after Qilin for a year, and then it was her turn. She'd try to be as attentive as he was.
She swallowed the remains of a bitter peppermint. Her ears pricked to catch the melody of bells tolling in the city below her castle tower, and she knew if she were to turn around she could see the snow falling softly upon her city through the chilly glass. Instead, she stood in the somewhat unbearable quiet and listened to the song of pendulums swinging ringing throughout Canterlot, whose homes would be filled with joyful families sharing traditions.
Lovers would relish together in what Harmony and all things good had rewarded them with, allowing them a safe, normal holiday. Foals with perfect shining eyes, innocent smiles, manners as good as their hearts, sweet faces, soft coats, and cute little muzzles would learn the virtues of their parents, of humility and kindness and guardians who always stayed. The young would enjoy the gifts presented to them. They would know no strife. Ponies young and old would sing blithely in the streets. There would be a pageant to see and meals to have. They would talk and welcome all who should be welcomed. Ponies would be ponies.
Hearth's Warming was about many things. It was about Harmony, good, helping ponies, kindness, and the company one kept. Ponies would be brought together, no matter what. Who was to spend Hearth's Warming alone, after all? Who would want to spend it alone?
Celestia hadn't. For a thousand years, she spent it as public as can be just to escape such circumstances. Her ponies wanted it too. There had never been a private Hearth's Warming until Luna returned, and then she had someone to share it with. Alone. How odd that was — and how she really hadn't bothered with that then. Cadance had even brought gifts addressed to each sister.
Now? Cadance was spending the holiday with her husband, and Discord and Qilin were joining them up in Equestria's northern colony. After all, as young as Qilin was, she was never too young for friendship. Cadance's daughter was only slightly older than the little hybrid, and Somber Skies — or 'Skyla' as she was usually called — was already showing signs of being very playful.
Celestia chewed at her chocolate, and yet she frowned. She believed Cadance named her daughter 'Somber Skies' for the reason she told the public: it was after the World Tree, a distant magical phenomenon of light painting the midnight sky that looked so lovely up north, where it seemed intertwined with the aurora of the Empire. And yet, Celestia didn't believe it entirely. She knew there was something about the first part of the poor young filly's name — a soft reference to somepony that Cadance had started keeping the company of when she visited Equestria.
She never confronted Cadance about it, but she had her suspicions, and so did Twilight Sparkle. Celestia had never called the heir to the Crystal Empire's throne — a sweet pegasus filly who was leagues more innocent than her name could ever suggest — anything but Skyla. Maybe Cadance knew this. Maybe she didn't.
Celestia polished off the last of the hooful of candies that she had been keeping in her telekinesis, and carefully disposed of the wrappers, tossing them in a wastepaper basket where bits of colorful wrapping paper stood out. After that was done, she finally decided to seat herself. She thought she felt a headache coming on.
The parlor she was in was one of many in the castle. A fireplace crackled, its flame covered with a faintly shimmering magical barrier as sparks danced warmly within. With Qilin and Skyla visiting, little barriers like this had become strongly enforced, taking on a new use beyond good castle-keeping. Most of them were cast by Luna, who was always eager to work her magic. None were Celestia's own, and the slightest evidence of rippling turquoise when anything impacted them was the most obvious evidence of this.
A grand oak table sat in the middle of the room, where it was a comfortable distance from the fireplace. Luna had always called it 'proud' when referring to this particular table — it was heavy, and of Germane craftsmanship — but Celestia rarely described anything as such. Not when there was nothing good in such a word. A tray containing two metal pitchers holding coffee and hot chocolate sat on the table's surface, with small bowls of candies, cookies, and other extras present too. Luna had even brought a can of whipped cream down.
Celestia wasn't entirely sure why there had to be coffee. She loved the beverage since it might as well be the only thing that got her up in the morning and had been vital in pushing herself through centuries of sleepless nights when Equestria needed a princess. It was three in the afternoon. Hadn't Luna made a comment about how he loved black coffee some time ago? Giving the covered pitcher another glance, she flared her magic to renew the enchantment on the pot kept the dark liquid hot.
She also said that he hates rising before one o'clock on most days, thought Celestia, and that simply can't be healthy. But I can't say that I'm surprised that is the case.
There was a twinge of something peculiar and bitter in her chest. A small sound of alarm made it partway past her lips, but she ignored the ache — she usually did — and thus her facade resumed if it had ever dropped at all.
Below the table was a rug decorated with Prancian floral patterns. It was something Celestia had a particular fondness for, out of all the foreign treasures in her castle, this floral print rug was her a definite favorite. Sitting softly upon it, but below the table bearing the modest amount of snacks were a few presents that she had wrapped a few days earlier. One was obtained in earnest, and one was just because it would be rude not to give one to him, though he didn't deserve one. Or any. Luna had hidden her presents somewhere in her room. Somehow, she always managed to find a way to stash things in every part of the castle Celestia thought she knew.
A couch and two chairs surrounded the table, all in rich, darker shades and mild earthy tones that complemented everything well — including the coats of most guests. Celestia sank into one of the chairs with grace as practiced as her smile and levitated a mug from the table's selection. It was decorated with a smiling snow-mare and the message of 'Season's Greetings!' in loopy red script against a snowy, dark blue background. Many of the letters were intertwined with sprigs of holly, and the snow-mare even wore an adorable scarf.
Celestia couldn't help herself when she caught sight of it; her smile slipped and cracked into something a bit bigger, and much more genuine. "It seems that Luna has been raiding my prized collection again," she murmured, mostly just to break the silence. While it was common knowledge that Princess Celestia collected tacky coffee mugs — and just coffee mugs in general — only Luna and a select division of maids had the key to the Hall of Mugs, from where the selection laid out before her had come from.
She calmly busied herself with pouring a cup of hot chocolate before placing two jumbo marshmallows in. Whipped cream and candy canes were Luna's choice in cocoa toppings, but Celestia couldn't ignore the call of two simple mallows. She also didn't think whipped cream was really the best topping. The way it made the cocoa taste? It wasn't for her. She liked simple things, and marshmallows were very, very simple.
Taking a test sip of her drink, she found it satisfying and placed her mug back upon the table with the utmost ease. Her horn was lit again, this time her magic found the phonograph in the room with ease, and she carefully levitated an album out of the bin nearby, only to sigh in disappointment, which is something she would never do if anypony was around — this wasn't her record bin at all, but one of Cadance's — and she wasn't her niece. She disliked alternative rock, and it didn't help that the band name she was currently reading sounded like a cough. She replaced it and returned to her drink, occasionally shaking one of the snow globes sitting upon the mantle boredly before dimming her horn and returning to her waiting.
Occasionally, she would also glance at the cards lining the mantle, pushed in between snow globes. A march of wedding photos and family holiday cards were arranged rather neatly. Shining and Cadance. Twilight and Rarity. Pinkie Pie and Cheese Sandwich. Evidence of births, like those of Somber Skies and Qilin, were also there among the clearer of the pictures. The mares who once bore the Elements of Harmony were now moving on... from something.
From what they had been.
Celestia didn't like the silence pressing down on her ears, and calmly pulled the collar of her sweater straighter. It wasn't a traditional 'ugly sweater' but a designer holiday sweater done in a soft shade of blue and made out of the finest materials. A few elegant snowflakes framed the collar and wound their way on each sleeve. Little pearls were sewn onto the smooth fabric as the center of most of the snowflakes. Her crown still sat on her head, a noble and permanent fixture on her form, and she still wore her gilded shoes, but her collar had been forsaken.
She cleared her throat in the empty room once she had finished her drink and adjusted the jar of roses resting on a small table near a window. There. Perfect. A small, satisfactory smile crept across her muzzle before she poured herself another drink.
If it weren't for spending time with Luna, she would be out in public, attending an event open to her little ponies and encouraging Luna to do the same instead of spending time with him.
In a rare moment, she let her thoughts stray a bit, thinking on the pageant of last year. Each year, a different Equestrian royal — Luna, Twilight, or herself — will preside over the pageant. They are given the opportunity to govern the event: choosing the writers, or working their own version, picking the set designers, and the list goes on. Critics of theater all across Equestria look forward to the event like a wolf looks forward to pouncing upon a lamb. What will each princess bring to the celebration? How will her writing grace Equestria and uphold its long-standing legacy? Will the traditional values of Equestria, known to her ponies as the Celestian Moral Principles be represented in the pageant of that year?
Last year was Luna's turn — her first chance to really experience the pageant as royalty was meant to. She loved theater. The arts were among her passions, that which she spun her soul into, and she would act as a patron to many types of artists, all from then and now. The art of one thousand years ago was... limited, to say the least, and not because of anything Luna had done. Luna had eagerly attended many operas, art shows, and live orchestras since Celestia was able to hold her little sister again and pull her into a hug and tell her that she was so, so sorry for everything that had happened between them.
Luna's play had been the most controversial piece to ever make it into Equestrian holiday theater, and easily among the least-loved pieces of drama ever performed in Equestrian history. Ponies were reeling. They wanted to see the friend-less, silly tribes find Equestria and have their ‘happily ever after!’ as the history classes and bedtime stories had spoonfed them that narrative all their lives. Everypony wanted simple costumes and even simpler archetypes: heroes and monsters, the nobles and the peasants, along with the sociable and the shunned. They demanded gags and smiles! Their subjects wanted morals as easy, sweet, and blatant as a bag of sugar to dissolve on their tongue. They wanted the personalities they were familiar with: shallow Platinum, brash Hurricane, humble Clover — they wanted fun, wholesome, addictively simple things. Celestia's little ponies wanted the most real thing that they knew, and that was fake heroes.
Celestia bit her lip, and the pain pulled her back to the present. Her and Luna had known all of those ponies. They’d known what had really happened. Celestia had warned Luna, gently, constantly, and kindly. Through careful sugarcoating, reassurance, and a thousand and more years of diplomacy, she did everything to get Luna to drop her dream. Celestia had spent so long caring for the young mare who was once a little filly big enough for her to hold like a real daughter that she tried to tell Luna: don't be honest.
But honesty was Luna's nature, and always had been, in some shape or form. Ponies were left with a dramatic, darker tale of a history that they didn't recognize. The draconian and vain Platinum, harsh and cold as the material she was named for shocked viewers. Luna's rendition was benevolent compared to how Platinum really was, but Celestia stayed silent on that. So did a Clover who was in no way a clever hero brimming with the moral values of Equestria. Instead, Luna had captured a fragment of that long-dead mare's reality by showing how Clover's life of servitude bordered on being a slave, something hardly any modern pony was truly aware of...
In her chair, and over her second cup of hot chocolate, Celestia sighed, causing wisps of steam to trail around her muzzle. She hadn't bothered with marshmallows this time.
Luna was so stubborn. She defended her work. She gave nopony what they wanted — nopony but herself, and that... that selfishness made Celestia's insides twist. Just do what everypony else did with the play. She had said that to her dearest little sister in so many iterations and...
Celestia's artificial calm never broke. She sipped her hot chocolate for a long while, letting the smooth, hot liquid pour down her throat—
—and coming down the hall was the richest sound she ever knew, that put all the bell tolls of her lifetime to shame with just a single peal—
—a sound so rare her imagination could never capture it true—
—Luna's laughter, and if Celestia didn't think twice and know better, the faint echo of a male chuckle.
Her throat burned with hot chocolate swallowed the wrong way. She suppressed a hack, gasping, and wheezing instead. Her eyes widened at the thought of the mistletoe pinned above the doorway, about his first Hearth's Warming, about him sitting across from her (and next to Luna), and everything about him.
Zippering a garment was more difficult than Celestia pulling every little emotional shift back to her tranquil norm, hiding all her darker thoughts, and smiling calmly once again. In an instant, her composure was there again, stitching everything up because, always, Celestia has been beauty. Celestia has been grace. Celestia has been haunted too — and guilty — but that's not something anypony needs to know.
Luna does, she reminded herself with a kick at her heart.
Celestia blinked back tears that thankfully weren't there and ignored it. She wondered if Luna would like her present. She wondered if it would mean anything to Luna. She hoped it would. She wanted to hug Luna and talk about their silly sweaters. She wanted to drink hot chocolate with her, play board games, hang up garlands.
She didn't want Luna to give Sombra his Hearth's Warming present ever, or to even know him.
Celestia tried not to close her eyes because then she knew she would see the present that made her stomach drop and churn so clearly. Instead, she waited while looking like the epitome of serenity. Hoofsteps grew closer but hardly louder. Luna's voice, though not loud and devoted to Sombra, had a way of spreading, so all felt encompassed in the peculiar sound of her little sister's voice. Sombra's voice was there too, but Celestia shuddered at the thought of him. He sounded... well, when she pricked her ears to listen in on what he could be saying, she didn't hear much, so he wasn't up to anything. Yet. Her calm facade only solidified with this knowledge, but she still wished the walls weren't muffling so much.
When she stifled a sigh and leaned forward to take another sip of hot chocolate, she found that the thought of Sombra, and what his visit that she so graciously permitted might bring made her once-sweet drink now tasted as bitter as poison.
...
From where she sat, Princess Celestia did not need to turn around to see the newest occupants of the room, who no longer stepped as quietly as before. There was the beautiful sound of Luna's laughter now so close. Celestia would have swiveled her ears toward the rich, dulcet sound if she had not refused to cave into the smallest impulses and behavioral tics long ago. It wasn't even a conscious thought to remain so perfectly undisturbed. She just did.
And she did just that, tuning out their voices for a minute until they were no longer so interested in the 'discovery' of mistletoe that Luna had fixed in the door's frame before her departure and date... and then walking through the city with — she dare not look that way just yet — him to meet her here once more. Celestia refused what would've been an unnatural swallow, trying to think about what the holiday should be about instead of who tainted it. To exchange gifts. To celebrate.
It was a quick kiss, of course. Celestia's throat had a dry, sour taste she'd never admit to all the same.
When she did turn, there was a humble grace to her movements. "Luna!" she greeted the dark goddess that was her little sister with an earnest (if cautious) smile. Thankfully, it drew away from the subtlest — really, the movements were barely detectable — scrutinizing flicks of her rose eyes as they looked over Luna.
No sign of distress... hmm. No cuts. She looked rather jolly, really... but...
No obvious bruises. Celestia kept her eyes from widening and an imperial verdict from leaping from her throat, but her heartbeat quickened.
She looked at Luna's green sweater, thick and woolly, and decorated with a row of ancient Crystalline runes in the center. The color was decidedly less garish. They spelled out something akin to 'Happy Hearth's Warming' or so Celestia was informed by Cadance. The latter had taken to knitting with the arrival of her daughter and was beginning to take interest in ancient Crystalline history: tales of mead halls and the mysterious 'Ouroboros' used to frighten foals. So yes, the piece was tacky, but the gift was thoughtful. There were rare occasions where that mattered more than presentation.
Luna's red scarf, made from the same wool, was red and an alternating pattern of snowflakes on it — a few even had a slight touch of glitter on them and sparkled faintly. The scarf was untied — something the practical Luna would certainly never do — and hung almost loosely around Luna's neck.
Luna's sweater even looked a little rumpled — her new sweater — and had a good deal of snow clinging to it.
Ages of experience kept Celestia's declarations boiling below the surface, hidden and smothered, and her composure intact — for now.
She saw Sombra, whose intense eyes regarded Celestia with something that she could never seem to place, their crimson irises holding an unusual vibrancy. Celestia found his aloofness to be disgusting. He always had a faint scowl when he eyed her with an unusual directness — he'd turn that piercing stare on anypony as wantonly as he wished. Here he was, at a quiet holiday celebration with a mare he claimed to love and he could not even thank her for allowing him here? Or look like he appreciated it?
Celestia always had a hard time looking at him directly — there was a wrongness to Sombra, the way he acted, the way he spoke. It wasn't just his nature as a magic-made monster — a demon, a living taboo, with this part about not known to the public he avoided — that made him seem... 'off', and permanently so. Celestia let her gaze flick over him again, as though he were a page in a magazine she could skim with unshakable calm. Everything about him had a stubborn performance that she had no fondness for. It was as though he thought he could defy change itself, and then somehow manage to appear reserved at the same time.
She saw the crimson traveling cloak he wore, which was plain and almost earthy in the exact shade of crimson it was. Dull, even. It was slightly askew — she had to narrow her eyes slightly to see that — and covered with a dusting of snow. However, she was pleased to see he lacked a weapon at his side. He was covered with little else, having nothing against the cold, and his hood was pulled down, so she could see his face clearly. His disheveled black mane was kept long, but despite the roguishness it gave his appearance, Celestia didn't see any sign of it being poorly kept. There was his faint scowl again, as if he was the one who wanted to be elsewhere.
Of course, he didn't even have the manners to pay attention to her. The furniture in the room's background caught his attention — though 'attention' was putting it very loosely.
"Hello, Luna," Celestia said, looking in the direction of Luna, but never taking her eyes off the snow on her — the same snow Sombra brushed onto the floor without a word. To properly conceal a sharp swallow, Celestia sipped at a cup of hot chocolate, finding the sweet drink to be bitter with the exact nature of her thoughts about what could have caused the strange untidiness of Luna's clothes... and Sombra's as well.
It worked, of course. If she had almost slipped up as she thought she might've, the technique worked just fine.
Luna's face brightened — something Celestia was still getting used to seeing. "Always with the pleasantries, sister! You know that I am glad to see you."
'Sister' was a strange barb coming from Luna, though there was a faint sweetness to it, the title was poisoned too. Celestia simply accepted it. She always did.
Sombra's gaze looked over Celestia briefly, with all the disinterest one would see from somepony peering at a mundane flyer in the streets, yet there was the contempt of looking at trash in his eyes too, glinting behind indifference that Celestia knew must mask the monstrous side of him that he so obviously had.
"One of us is excited to see you," he grumbled with all the rudeness Celestia expected of him and his coarse manner, "the other one wishes he were still asleep."
Could he never speak politely? "It is past noon, Sombra," Celestia said plainly, and obviously, but her tone held faint, frosty politeness all the same. Level, as always, it gave away nothing that she didn't allow it to.
"That's exactly my point," he replied grumpily, lighting his horn to briefly adjust his cloak. The last of the snowflakes that clung to him fell to the floor. The clean floor — and Sombra gave her a look that says he knew that.
Still smiling, but not as broadly, Luna hummed and swatted a snowflake away from Sombra's wither, melting it into his cloak when it came in contact with her feather tips. "Tia, we got in a snowball fight!"
Celestia wasn't sure if a snowball fight between them would consist of anything but Luna having fun. "I'm glad you had fun Luna," Celestia said gently, and genuinely, but making her exclusion of Sombra clear. The tall stallion noticed, but only said so with a faint look in his eyes that the distracted Luna didn't pick up on — otherwise, they both knew that the perceptive mare would see something was up easily.
Even if she just saw Luna hours earlier, Celestia didn't deviate from the pleasantries she found necessary, and Luna often proclaimed 'meaningless' right to Celestia's muzzle. She rose from her chair, and Celestia embraced the mare that was supposed to be her little sister, closing her eyes to enjoy the moment (any moment she could get Luna away from Sombra was a good one, and she was going to be optimistic about this). His presence wasn't going to spoil such a lovely Hearth's Warming!
As she hugged Luna — it was really a quick hug — and pulled her sweater-clad sister close, her horn glowing gold as she set Luna's scarf aside for her. Celestia then busied herself with draping it across her chair — she found time to think.
She never stopped trying to figure out what it was Luna saw in Sombra. He was a disgusting, violent, loveless, and unforgivable stallion at his least, and Luna never talked about him that way.
Luna, her reclusive, aloof, intelligent, brave, and tragically asocial little sister. She was passionate, creative, and the fighter of them both, who never 'wasted kindness' as she proclaimed — it was such a sad viewpoint to Celestia — had grown close to this utter monster and fallen in 'love' with him.
Celestia was glad Sombra wouldn't be able to see the sudden flash of sorrow that worked its way into her expression at that last part.
Being the good sister that she was, Celestia listened to what Luna did mention about him, even if she never believed a word. She took solace in the fact that Sombra was a phase, and would listen calmly as Luna would talk about him, and the things that they had done in the time they spent dating.
She'd tell Celestia about when she took him to plays or ice-skating with him, going hiking, ponywatching in the park with him (Celestia longed for her to talk to any of those ponies!), exploring the city, sparring, reading dates, and even sharing a bit about curios he had in his pocket dimension when she... when Luna stayed over. The knowledge that those two had been sleeping together was one of the most disgusting things Celestia had ever learned... and yet, Luna certainly didn't seem to mind Sombra in the slightest.
Celestia, upon learning that detail, had instantly wondered how poor Luna, no longer the goofy, cheerful ingénue mare Celestia remembered, could have been coerced into doing something with Sombra. And, when she had heard the words 'cared for her', 'trustworthy', and 'agreed to' come out of her sister's mouth that day, in reference to Sombra, Celestia was terrified. This was not because there was something so obviously dark and vile going on surrounding that vile stallion... but because there almost didn't seem to be. It was almost like Luna didn't see what her caring older sister could be implying that he would— could do...
Since forever, Celestia was the experienced one and Luna the innocent one, and it was up to her to protect Luna.
The things she was faced with made it sound like Luna could tell this stallion anything. Luna called him lots of things, and Celestia couldn't believe that the way Luna saw him was true.
Luna said: blunt, antisocial, witty, sarcastic, understanding, charming, moody-but-caring, patient, stubborn, selectively compassionate, and sardonic.
Celestia would've said: rude, disturbingly antisocial, brutish, violent, unable to empathize, domineering, cruel, sadistic, mentally unstable in nearly every way, ungrateful, constantly intolerant, stubborn, callous, and abusive if given the chance.
She just knew he was. What effort had he made to integrate himself into society, as Discord had?
Against her better judgement, Celestia permitted him to stay.
Because she thought if something happened to him — her chest tightened at the thought — a part of her knew that Luna might not ever really smile again. The laughing that shamed the merriest of bells would cease to be... and it would all be because of Sombra. Celestia hated knowing that, and she hated very little — but that evil stallion was one such thing.
When Celestia released Luna from her hug, she was still smiling. Though, her heart ached a little at the thought of an adventurous filly with a cornflower mane and stars in her eyes... that had just vanished.
Or maybe she had grown — and grown into the very mare that was nuzzling Sombra back right now, with a smile that was achingly genuine.
Under her own smile, Celestia's stomach felt sick.
...
Sombra seated himself as far from Celestia as he could be, and made no effort to put on polite airs about it. Celestia found herself unsurprised by this. She didn't purse her lips sourly and call him out. She smiled instead. Next to him was Luna, excitement shining in her eyes and her horn lit as she levitated Celestia's still-wrapped gifts from where they sat. From where he reclined, with his head comfortably against her wither, the still-cloaked Sombra followed the path of the packages with his eyes, even though he didn't appear impressed in the slightest with their appearance.
Must he always be so unbearably cynical? Celestia maintained her smile and refused to give him her slightest attention any longer. Of course he wouldn't appreciate gifts.
Instead, she listened to Luna, who continued to discuss the city sights.
"...and that one book shop — the out-of-the-way one that Sombra and I like — has a magnificent display from the front windows! Colored werelights clinging about the ceiling and shifting in lovely patterns! You would love it, sister."
Celestia nodded politely and smiled, ignoring Sombra sitting up a little from his nonchalant slouch so he could levitate the coffee pitcher and a mug over. Of course he had to choose the plainest.
"I'm sure it was lovely, Luna," Celestia said lightly, watching Luna empty her third mug of hot chocolate with ease. The presents to her side — the one not occupied by Sombra — rustled faintly. Before her magic reached out for more hot chocolate, she planted a gentle kiss on top of Sombra's head. If Celestia didn't know him better, she'd have sworn he almost smiled for a second. It wasn't even a real smile, just a sort of crooked half-smile. Like the mysterious impressions that would occasionally gather in the shadows of his cloak when he wasn't fully relaxed, it was momentary. Luna said he did that, but Celestia couldn't see Sombra ever being relaxed unless everypony was submitting to his every whim.
"The lack of ponies mindlessly flocking everywhere and gawking at everything was an improvement," Sombra mumbled between a sip of black coffee. His words were still clear — just tired.
Just as he said that Celestia swallowed the tea she had conjured a little sharply and opened her mouth to call him out.
Luna chuckled, and it sounded like a treasured song. A select, almost secretive, and largely unheard-of warmth came from the sound. There was something heartfelt about the laughter of every Element of Laughter that made it so precious, and it was no enchantment. Oftentimes, when Celestia heard the rare sound of Luna's laughter, she wished that Luna could laugh as often as Pinkie Pie so that other ponies could hear the sound too. Instead, hearing Luna's laugh was still something that bordered on startling in its rarity.
Sombra sat through it, his horn lit as he sipped coffee and toyed with a strand of Luna's dark mane. Celestia almost felt like she should be aghast at how he sat through this, acting like this was an everyday occurrence. Celestia took a thin sip of her hot chocolate while Luna licked whipped cream from her face.
"It certainly was lovely to have the city so empty!" The sound of a peppermint stick swirling against Luna's mug was heard; the clinking rang around the table area. "There was space to breathe and room for contemplation around every corner without all the ponies smothering the streets. Oh, Tia, all of it was cold, lonesome, and truly lovely. Seeing the rivers frozen over was breathtaking! Were you to go up to the fountains that still have water frozen in them, the light of gold bits gleaming through the ice is such a personal, enchanting sight!" Luna smiled exuberantly and Celestia couldn't remember the last time she had gone on in such excited bursts like this — mostly because Sombra interrupted her thought process.
"Isn't this festival about sucking up to biological relatives, pointless gluttony, and lying through your teeth that the trinkets they've given you are great?"
"Sombra!" Celestia scolded, setting down her mug. "That is a disgusting interpretation of what Hearth's Warming is! They are called 'family' not 'biological relatives' as you so clinically put it." Of course, he wouldn't know that, being a demon.
"That's exactly what family is," Sombra said curtly. "They're ponies with blood relations, so I'll call them what they. I have no idea how that offends you. I also haven't been able to find anything to read that explains any other reason for why this holiday exists."
"Family is not something you can just dismiss like that," Celestia said, frowning just a little bit. "If you were more apt to listen to ponies and accept them, you would understand that which is foreign to you, and tragically so. The family is one of the cornerstones of society, and its value cannot be diminished nor its image compromised because of rebellious and misleading bullies."
Sombra's burning gaze turned to her, black equine pupils that Celestia knew didn't hold the slightest shred of equinity. His tone was dripping with sarcasm while crimson irises and a mean-spirited, bitter smirk flashed with insolence that every part of his movements accented, even in his slouched position, Celestia observed an odd sort of charisma coming from him, and found it disgusting. "Guess what? I did just dismiss it. What are you going to do about that, Miss Morality Play?"
Celestia pursed her lips. She expected him to disregard everything that Equestrian culture had to offer, knowing that something geared towards her good little ponies — the beloved, ever-popular genre of morality plays, like the very Hearth's Warming play occurring today — would be scorned by him, and only give Celestia another reason to believe he was so uncultured.
"Oh?" Luna said, tugging sharply on a strand of Sombra's mane with a flick of magic, and earning a sharp look from him. "I suppose that neither of you want presents then. I shall just have to keep them all for myself," she finished with a knowing look in Sombra's direction. Luna gave another short tug of his mane and a small, playful smirk.
Sombra met her eyes, and something more was exchanged between them besides looks, and then he rolled his eyes. Luna must've found it playful because she smiled where Celestia was not able to.
Celestia relaxed. Knowing that Sombra was being controlled by the greater force of Luna's kindness was a relief. "Yes, if Sombra is done, I would love to exchange gifts." She smiled brightly in their direction, and while Sombra gave her an expected hostile look, Luna pouted.
"Can't you two tolerate one another for a short while?"
Both Sombra and Celestia were quiet. Celestia did it for Luna, but she was sure Sombra — who gave Luna a quiet look Celestia still couldn't read — was doing this only for himself.
Calmly, Celestia took one last sip of her drink — what cup was she on? — and lowered her eyes. She really hadn't meant to upset her. "I'm sorry, Luna," she said, voice gentle.
To her surprise, Luna's frown deepened. "I don't think that I'm the one you should be apologizing to."
And with a flawless look that was a mixture of everything expected and needed: humility wrapped in insincere kindness that only Celestia knew was false — and of course, Sombra, who would accuse her of it anyway — and a tone as warm as the fire even though she addressed a monster, Celestia apologized.
"I'm sorry," she began, specifically avoiding the name that might as well be a curse, "I shouldn't have contributed to an argument that would make a guest feel so unwelcome, and possibly shame the royal household too. Though slight, I shouldn't have said anything that would annoy you. This was incredibly rude of me. Will you forgive me?"
Sombra's fierce stare doesn't waver. "No," he deadpans.
Celestia's eyes widened slightly. Did he really just...? And after she had asked him — Sombra, who never deserved it — so kindly if he would be willing to extend forgiveness, as anypony would.
She looked to Luna for help but kept her emotions in check even if her throat was a little tight with indignation.
Luna didn't seem to mind this at all. She looked between them and twirled a strand of her own mane in turquoise aura thoughtfully. Her expression was reserved, but not distant. Whatever she saw when her eyes darted between them calmly — Celestia saw Luna's gaze linger on Sombra longer — and then Luna refocused her magic on the presents, which glimmered softly in her aura. She didn't call Sombra out for anything. She didn't bring anything up.
She gave a small but honest ghost of a smile and floated a present over to Celestia. It was from her, the label of 'Tia' in Luna's distinct writing made that clear. Celestia's throat felt dry when she realized that Sombra would be getting his gift soon — the one that was kept away from all the others. A special gift.
Celestia's magic embraced the gift and held it delicately. She pushed unwelcome thoughts away, no matter if they were 'true' — Celestia loathed that thorn of a word.
They shouldn't be.
None of that went into her plans. In her plans, there was no Sombra, nor had there ever been one. The Empire wasn't even expected to return!
Luna was different in her plans. She had always been, and Celestia didn't realize how she had neglected her the first time. If — because for the longest time it was a mere fantasy, and one she couldn't indulge in because of how painful it was to even try to hope for anything — Luna was to return, Celestia would have her sister's happily ever after written out for her as best as she could.
Celestia could not control everything — no divine could — but Tartarus knows she would try.
For Luna.
And everything could have gone according to plan. Luna could have read all the friendship reports Twilight wrote when Celestia urged her to, and be loved by the masses of ponies who wanted to know their 'new' princess. She could've made herself known at the Gala, where she could be introduced to Twilight Sparkle properly — she would have to be soon... if things were to go according to plan. Celestia hadn't mailed Twilight Sparkle two Grand Galloping tickets for nothing, after all.
Instead, Luna had met Cadance, and the two spent the Gala away from crowds, and Celestia was left to deal with everything as best as she could. She who sets the chessboard always had to have a backup play, and this was not a game that Celestia was a stranger to.
Luna should've — as Celestia's original plans had dictated — walked among the subjects that she was to rule. This time, she would have gotten to be a real princess, not some titled, powerless spare to the Sovereign Princess of Equestria when it was governed from one lone castle in the Everfree. In her plans, Luna would have to make connections by participating in the talk of the common pony and the modest staff — guards, household servants, and some scribes and such — that lived in the castle, though their number was not as great as the rank of a mortal ruler's servants. Luna's odder habits could dissolve in the sea of modern acceptance until she was just like their little ponies. Her adjustment would have been speedy.
And instead Luna — as unintentionally rebellious as she was intentionally so — planned her own visit to the town of Ponyville. Not only that, but she did so with a little input from her only friend, Cadance, as encouragement, and zero discussion with Celestia beforehoof! Luna had not yet integrated herself and never concealed the extent of her divine powers — herself, a part of Celestia added, and as always it was ignored — as Celestia did. What did go according to plan was Luna meeting Twilight. What continued to go according to plan those few years ago was Twilight became infatuated with Luna. She was the only one of Princess Celestia's hoof-picked Faithful Students to be a young lady besotted by other young ladies in all the time that she had taken on Faithful Students at all.
Celestia, as any good caretaker would have, should have noted Luna's abnormal behavior back at the Tribal Court of the unicorns. How Luna had taken to dressing much more like a stallion as soon as the two had access to any clothing at all. Her lower resistance to going off to war than participating in any of the conventions proper to maidens of courting age. Never eyeing a single noblestallion in the ways that Celestia couldn't resist. When Celestia caught the glimpse of any admirable handsome stallion, she couldn't resist swooning over the tribal heroes... while Luna simply had given the floor more attention every single time. (Why had it taken Celestia until she was banished to notice those things about Luna?) Hating every attempt that a stallion would make to woo her only made Luna stand out more in those times. Never thinking about courting in an age when those who did not fight and toil lived to marry for the sake of pushing coin higher or twisting the roots of a political deal — it was highly abnormal.
And in those times, of course, Luna would have been afraid to say anything! Worse, Luna was afraid of her then.
Celestia had been a fool to not realize what all that meant then, and a fool to still be puzzled by it long afterward. That's why little Twilight was such a blessing — a mare who not only loved mare and one who also loved perfection. Twilight loved every technicality about Luna's light sky — every organized line and angle could be made into a sensible graph in her Faithful Student's mind, which was drastically different than the canvas Celestia had always been foreign to. Twilight had always applied the reason to the stars, never knowing about her innocent hobby's darker meaning...
There was a darker meaning, wasn't there? The stars could aid in Luna's escape...
Twilight would love Luna. To Celestia, it was simply meant to be. How could one not see that in them?
Except...
Luna wouldn't even be Twilight's friend. What had Twilight received shortly after Luna's first Nightmare Night when she asked the goddess out on a date? A rejection. A blunt rejection from Luna. It didn't matter how old Twilight was — filly or grown mare, Celestia could never bear the tears of a Faithful Student.
The present in her hooves was an excellent distraction and the perfect, unspoken excuse not to look at Sombra.
It should be Twilight sitting next to her, Celestia reminded herself with a thin layer of venom that Sombra would never hear.
She pretended it wasn't there and opened her present. Under all that paper and packaged within a little cardboard box was another coffee mug for her collection. It floated in her magic, and Celestia couldn't help but smile at Luna's gift. The pale yellow mug read 'NOT A MORNING PONY' in soft orange letters. Celestia certainly wasn't a morning pony, not with the amount of coffee it took to power her and smiled a little wider. Leave it to Luna to know that a corny coffee mug was better than most things she could be offered by the ponies who would be thinking of sending her Hearth's Warming gifts. This was the most fitting gift that she had been given in the whole season, save for her present from Discord.
"Thank you, Luna," she said, smiling so that the corners of her eyes creased into her soft smile.
Luna gave Celestia a lopsided, true smile and lit her horn to go through the gifts again, her eyes widening in excitement when she found a particular package. Celestia allowed a small smile to settle onto her muzzle so that her expression was as pleasant as possible. Nopony would guess that it was forced.
"Sombra!" Luna cried excitedly, nudging the reclining demon urgently. He raised an eyebrow and looked mildly curious and also slightly disgusted, though the disgust did not appear to be directed at anypony in particular. "Look! This one is for you!"
She let the wrapped box fall into his forehooves. While they did not wait for the gift to be plopped there, he caught it nonchalantly, and his expression shifted. One ear fell to the side, flopping downward and the other swiveled off to the side, highlighting the confusion in his expression. Both eyes were trained on the package, as though it was slightly offensive and also greatly perplexing to him at the same time. As he gripped it, his conflicted state unconcealed, and eyebrows raised.
"You got me this?" Sombra said, the faintest edge to his voice still detectable.
Celestia's smile slipped only a little. "I did," and then with the barest trace of a patronizing quality: "Aren't you going to open it?"
Sombra gave the present a flat stare. "...Perhaps, once I'm certain I'm not intoxicated."
"B-Beg pardon?" Celestia stuttered, eyeing him warily while Luna giggled into her forehoof, which was unable to mask a cheeky grin.
"We both know how surreal this is," he grumbled, giving her a sharp look while Luna's grin widened. "Either what's in here is going to be ironic as Tartarus, offensive, or unworthy of me since you don't know the first damned thing about what I do with my life."
"Always eloquent, Sombra," Luna said with a small smirk and playful wink in his direction, "and as subtle as ever."
Sombra rolled his eyes and nuzzled her. Celestia looked away discreetly and stifled an exhausted sigh perfectly.
The sound of wrapping paper being torn as unceremoniously as possible causes Celestia's ears to turn in Sombra's direction. She silently watches him levitate his gift from the box with a look of annoyed apprehension all while maintaining a flawless air of disgruntledness. And thus his gift sees the light, and his confusion shifts to a sort of existential questioning look.
Meanwhile, Luna tilts her head to the side, mane cascading with the gesture as she blinks in confusion. "Oh," she murmurs, "Well, this is certainly a surprise."
"A useless banana holding abomination...?" Sombra said, holding the small package and looking at it as though it might bite him.
"It's a banana holder," Celestia corrects, no inkling of irritation showing on her face.
Luna examined it, blinking. "Why do bananas even need to be held somewhere special?"
"I don't even eat bananas," Sombra protested, levitating the box off to the side and setting it on the floor.
He gave Celestia the slightest look of disgust. She shifted her gaze away slightly. It really was rude to stare, and of course, Sombra would not respect this.
"Well, Sombra?" Celestia prompted politely. She smiled.
His stare was unwavering, and the mild tension was between them and them alone. Sombra raised an eyebrow with a disgusting nonchalance that was too knowing for Celestia's taste. Too smart.
"What, Celestia?" His expression stayed unamused, and Luna snorted, giving her mane a little toss. There was an almost sardonic glint in her eyes, but it faded quickly. Everything about Sombra was nigh unreadable to Celestia except in gestures of half-intent and shades of almost.
"Didn't you bring any gifts?" Celestia prompted with just enough pleasantness in her tone. It was perfectly measured, as could be expected.
"No."
He didn't miss a beat. The rude, deadpan answer was presented instantly and bluntly, as though he saw nothing wrong with what he did. Typical.
"You didn't bring any gifts?" Celestia repeated.
"I just said that." He still wouldn't look away, even when he sipped his coffee. Something so simple was handled with such clear irritation, like a cat who lashed its tail about.
Luna tapped the edges of her forehooves together and looked to Celestia. "Sister," she began, slowly, her gaze sweeping between the two, "I must go to my chambers to get Sombra's gift. Will you two hold off tearing one another limb from limb for a short while?" She nuzzled Sombra, who met the gesture halfway, a smirk already faintly visible on his muzzle.
Luna pulled away with a smile and didn't notice that Celestia had skillfully averted her eyes from Luna's affection.
"Luna," Sombra said carefully, his attention on her and hers directed toward him. If Celestia didn't know him better, she'd think it was sincere. "You really didn't have to get me anything—"
Luna swallowed quickly, and her eyes widened just a little. She placed a hoof on Sombra's chest to interrupt him before she rose. Both Celestia and Luna knew what Sombra was to receive for Hearth's Warming. "S-Sombra, I promise, you shall love it!" There was a nervous edge to her voice that both Sombra and Celestia noticed.
Sombra looked at her with what would've been love on any other pony, Celestia was certain of it. "Luna, really. Something like a book is fine, but any more than that—"
Luna had gotten him so much more than a book.
"Sombra," Celestia scolded, speaking the name that left a poisonous taste in her mouth, "Hearth's Warming Eve is a time about giving and being generous, which is something that is a core value to ponykind and Equestria. Your attempts at being humble instead of selfish at this time aren't appreciated."
Luna cringed a little and anger crossed Sombra's face. Celestia saw him grit his teeth and hold back whatever poison was welling up in his mouth, waiting to be spoken to her. "Sister, please!" Luna pleaded, wincing. Sombra glared at Celestia.
Seeing Luna react so, Celestia exhaled and her expression and imperial manner softened into her usual humble demeanor. "I'm sorry, Luna," she murmured, bowing her head slightly.
Sinking back into the chair she hadn't realized she had risen from, Celestia watched Luna leave. She watched her sister shoot the now-aloof Sombra a concerned look, but she couldn't imagine why.
...
"Are you really reading a book?" Celestia said levelly. She was rather astonished and offended by the large volume that Sombra conjured in Luna's absence. He now read with as much interest as he seemed to allow himself in her company. She saw how his eyes moved quickly over the words, but could not see what was written on the cover, so the subject remained a mystery to her.
"I am," he said brusquely, and without looking away. He just kept levitating the book and used his magic to turn the pages when needed.
She counted five pages before she spoke again. "Do you want to sample any of the cookies?" Celestia nodded to the sprinkled treats that sat on a small plate in the shadow of the beverage pitchers.
"I don't." His delivery was as blunt as before, and Celestia's smile slipped because she let it, and Sombra went on, still not looking away and making it clear he cared little for this. "I'm a vegan, too. I definitely don't want to eat those when it'd be wasteful of me to try them at all. They're probably too sweet as well. Just give them to somepony without my preferences."
Celestia bit her lip ever so slightly. She really didn't believe that he was a vegan, that was the choice of ponies who were thoughtful and kind, like Fluttershy. What reason would there be to trust him?
"Are you truly so bitter and rude that you won't just have a little bit? Please, as your hostess, I insist. They're really quite nice. I'll send your compliments to the chef if you have one." She smiled politely.
He turned another page, absolutely refusing to pay her any mind.
This time, Celestia blinked in confusion. "Did you hear me?" she inquired calmly.
Sombra flipped another page upon finishing it. "I did."
"And? Would you like one or two? I can get you a plate if you wish."
For somepony who glared at her so much before, he didn't even bother to prick an ear in her direction now. "Remember when I said I didn't want any? That still stands. Drop the act."
Celestia didn't. "And must you always be so impolite?"
"Is that a crime now? You calling me 'impolite' of all things is almost kind, considering everything else you've said about me. I dare say you're being almost honest for once."
"You're more than impolite," Celestia said coolly, one ear involuntarily swiveling toward the closed door, wanting to hear past it. "It is a commonly held belief that you are unbearable."
"Ignorance is also common," he grumbles, "dare I even suggest there might a correlation? I for one think it would work fabulously alongside your knack for twisting everything about any creature who would so much as doubt your opinion about the weather. I fucking wonder what happens when you have that and your affinity for feeding your populace breezie tales as history for over ten centuries."
Celestia's gaze hardened as she surveyed Sombra, who clearly knew that she looked upon him. "The common pony is far better than you could ever be, and were you right in your mind, you would see that my subjects' unified beliefs are a wall to block out the individual stones of ignorance and cynical vulgarity you wish to cast at them. Insulting my subjects will get you nothing, Sombra. No ambition of yours is to ever come true. You blunt, arrogant, downright antisocial—"
Even his smirk managed to be a bit irritated. "You wouldn't do this if Luna were around. We both know it. This has been far from our nastiest clash to date. I'm here for Luna."
She absolutely could not believe that.
"You're here for Luna too. Otherwise, you would have had a pretense thicker than plaster for me to try and chip at."
She really was. She knew he would be here, but Luna mattered more. "I'm here to spend time with my little sister, yes, but do not act like you know what I do. I am not on the same level you are—"
"You're below it," he interjected smoothly, finally looking up from his book. There was satisfaction in his eyes and more she couldn't get a read on; though he was not relaxed, he did not view her warily. Yet, there was no kindness in his gaze, not for her. Never for her.
"How arrogant," she whispered as coldly as she could, a tone that was not fitting for her and few had ever heard. "That is all there is to you, the folly of pride, and any other guest to show half of what you do now would—"
Sombra returned her stare coolly, even after she had to look away from him so nonchalantly locking his eyes with hers. Celestia hid her disgust for the gesture and instead fetched herself a small cookie to nibble on. The flavor was a brief balm for the bitterness every rebuttal he offered her left in her mouth.
"Arrogant and false aren't the same thing, Celestia. We can play this game all day." His horn glowed a vibrant crimson and the book was gone. "Let's try a different subject then, and I have no need to be subtle about it: the Hearth's Warming play. Last year's, to be precise. What were your thoughts on it?"
Celestia's frown softened. What was his game? She knew he had one. "I wasn't there."
What could've been a twinge of genuine confusion showed on Sombra's face. "I'm aware because I was present. Where were you?"
They both knew where she was. "I was presiding over an ice skating competition in Manehattan. They have a lovely ice rink and their competition has grown to be very popular."
Sombra sat up and got himself more coffee, talking to her as he poured another mug. "You were judging, weren't you? Alongside that soul-exhausting smiling and waving; that's what you were doing, weren't you?"
"I was!" Celestia smiled politely and ignoring what she didn't want to hear. "It's one of the few Hearth's Warming events that have a significant gathering but no required royal presence. My attendance was merely ceremonial."
Sombra gave her a bitter look as flat as his tone proved to be. "I'm sure everypony was delighted to see you."
"They were," Celestia replied simply, sitting patiently while minutes ticked away in her mind. Her smile softened to something a bit blander and more relaxed.
"Luna did miss you at her play," Sombra mumbled into his sip of coffee. Celestia heard him anyway.
Celestia's brow furrowed. "Are you... trying to guilt-trip me with something that happened over a year ago?"
"A year isn't a long time, even for us, and no. I just remember how disappointed she was that you didn't show up. When Luna asked me to join her here for Hearth's Warming I wasn't sure if it was related to the reception of her take on the play."
Celestia did not permit herself to frown. When did she ever allow such a gesture to come naturally? She decided to play along and let Sombra think she believed he wasn't guilt-tripping her. "Where could you possibly have learned this, provided it is true?"
"Luna told me then, even though it was obvious how she felt, and she mentioned it on the way here." His reply was far too quick for Celestia's liking. He almost looked bored saying it. "Diplomacy is far from my strong suit, but I would give her the cloak off my withers if it meant mending a rift between you two about her play."
"Why didn't she tell me, if this is true?" She hinged some emphasis on the 'is' to push her uncharacteristic skepticism to the forefront a bit since Sombra probably didn't note it. His empathy needed more work than his diplomatic ability, that was very clear.
His eyes flashed slightly and there was the left side of his mouth dipping into a scowl. Sombra gave her the look of a careful tactician regarding their foe in battle, but that comparison surely was an embellishment on her own part. Celestia expected little from this brute.
Sombra almost looked surprised. "She didn't...?" Celestia's unusual silence was enough confirmation for him, apparently. "You could always ask her later, then, but she probably just didn't want you to worry."
Celestia did worry about Luna. A lot. Equestria wasn't as sisterly with their gossipy concerns about Luna, but their little ponies had their own ways of worrying. Out of the four princesses of Equestria, three were well-known to the public and favorites of the ponies of Equestria. Celestia, Twilight, and Cadance all had their own little fan bases and extra loyal subjects who loved the princesses that were the epitomes of Equestrian values. Luna never fit in. Luna didn't even want to.
So, of course Celestia worried. She worried about her sweet little sister who was in a relationship with Sombra and the least favored princess of the public. Celestia thought that the things ponies said about Luna's unfortunate involvement with Sombra might give her second thoughts before it came to... well, where this was going. She thought Luna might have broken things off with Sombra. She had hoped dearly that she would've.
"You do not need to tell me when I can and cannot talk to my own sister," Celestia said, narrowing her eyes so that his attention could be drawn away from something other than her usually warm voice. "And I hope you realize that you have no authority over Luna."
Sombra emitted a low growl and his crimson irises burned with anger he was holding back. "I would never claim that."
Celestia's calm expression and never-harsh voice worked for her. She looked in his direction, but never directly at him, her regality quite apparent. "Sombra, if I know anything about you, it's that you are reluctant to speak to truth. Instead, you prefer to spew forth nothing but remarks that are rude, uncensored attempts to shock others. Your horrible etiquette aside, I know that you are evil at heart, and petty bullying brings you entertainment. What else would you call my polite attempts to socialize with my guest right now?"
Sombra rolled his eyes and snorted. "I haven't stolen anypony's lunch money yet, so no, none of that has a ring of truth to it. But go on about how I'm the worst entity to ever to breathe on Midgard. I'm bored enough as it is. Your ridiculousness and coloring will have to be a substitute for the jokes of a parrot."
"You think that you are better than anypony."
Sombra shrugged. "I'm above everypony that isn't my peer — that is how the dynamic functions. Luna is my only peer, so yes, I am superior to everypony. I'm absolutely thrilled we could get that out of the way. Do you have anything I can light on fire?"
Celestia looked at him sternly. "I do not, and your arrogance is as appreciated as your dark sarcasm. I certainly do not have anything for you to ruin on Hearth's Warming Day, be it with words of fire. Are you really unable to interact with anypony respectfully?"
Sombra just stared at her. "So that's a 'no' to the 'light things on fire' question."
"Facetious. Domineering. Disgusting. You're an antithesis to everything Equestria stands for and the common good itself as it stands in all nations. My ponies have done nothing but tolerate you, wishing that you'd change your ways, repent, and embrace the harmony that is the opposite to your cruel, false, and arrogant ways."
At 'domineering' Sombra's expression darkened. "It's lovely to see you, too. And don't worry — I know you lie to your subjects with that mouth and have been doing so for centuries."
"You cannot refrain from being rude and flinging accusations even when I am your hostess?" Celestia said, tone scolding.
Sombra rolled his eyes again, the left of his mouth curling into a smirk. He mouthed 'reformed' and made a sound like the start of dry, humorless laughter, but it didn't last. How could Luna, a former Bearer of Laughter herself love somepony that was easily described as 'humorless' or who enjoyed the pain of others?
And he still went on.
"I'm the one flinging accusations?" He snorted and cast his gaze to the ceiling in disdain and sardonic exasperation. "That's always rich from the mare who has taken such pleasure in ruining as much of my life in any way she can. You know I'm not going to quit, don't you? I'm never going to knock upon Tartarus' gate and waltz my way in, claiming I've done so much wrong. I can't even dance!"
There was the smirk she hated again, this time with the crueler edge of somepony who mistakenly had thought that they had won. Against her. His arrogance was without any limit.
"You don't deserve Luna's gift," Celestia said in a low mumble that she hadn't realized was anything she had actually spoken aloud.
Once again, Sombra's glare fell on her. Celestia had to avert her own eyes from the intensity she hated that gaze for — almost as much as she hated Sombra himself, and Celestia wasn't a mare who hated much of anything. She hated Sombra. She hated cruelty. She hated evil. Other than those three things, there was little that could garner such a nasty, extreme emotion from her.
"I don't deserve anything, Celestia." Her name was spoken with a thin impatience. A warning. It had an insult layered in it, but she felt no violation in that particular aspect of how he spoke to her. "I don't deserve kindness, and neither does anypony else."
Celestia's throat tightened with a volley of retaliations she wanted to speak against his falsehoods.
"I don't deserve any cruelty either, and there isn't another pony that does. This isn't something that needs to be repeated, because it's as obvious as you raising your damned sun. You can refuse to believe it because you can refuse to believe anything — like me ever attempting to hold a conversation with you. I really don't deserve whatever little trinket Luna is going to give me, but she's thoughtful and no matter how many times you are going to keep thinking otherwise, I love her. I think that matters more than the gift for a holiday I don't even celebrate."
Celestia opted to contribute to the tense silence that was building on her bend as she carefully folded her sweater's collar back again, maintaining her regality effortlessly, no matter how unneeded the gesture was.
"Is there anything else you feel the need to proclaim?" she asked with a hint of mock cheer wrapped up in the subtly patronizing fake pleasantness that she radiated, never once losing the composure that weighed on her like wet cement.
Nopony ever saw Celestia — whoever that mare was supposed to be, except maybe Luna — but everypony knew the princess.
She feared Sombra caught glimpses of Celestia and maybe somepony more, but she never showed this. She wasn't sure if she could. It wasn't a recurring second thought. However, she hated Sombra for seeing what he never was supposed to. She hated the red of his eyes too, and how they looked like blood.
Celestia hated the sight of blood, too. It was not just because she had seen great wounds made, but because those wars had to be healed too, and she would often be the one to do so. In the start of the war waged on Discord, before their first loss to him and her and Luna's eventual discovery of the Elements, it was Luna who fought every battle. From the Everfree, Celestia was the shining king piece who directed this and that. She ushered forth battles she could never bear to fight in, and it was Celestia who was holed up in the castle crouched over sickbeds that cradled the broken and dying ponies who departed with prayers to her on their lips.
It was long before Luna's recent discovery of her special dreamwalking. In those days, every night Celestia would dream of funeral pyres she read about in the crude reports she was presented with. All of this had gone on until she would wake up screaming in an empty stone keep about ponies burning and twisted chaos, her own white coat wet with sweat until she stitched her composure back up again and smiled for everypony who wasn't there so she could slip back into slumber. Her smiles had never been for herself, not truly.
Most of all, she would scream about the ashes all those years ago.
Celestia exhaled quite normally. Sombra's coat was the color of ashes.
They both heard hoofsteps in the hallway, but Sombra looked alert before the sound could be heard.
Celestia tried to look like she wasn't holding her breath — it really wasn't that hard — and willed herself not to dwell on what Luna would have with her...
...
Whenever Luna was around, Sombra was clearly more attentive. Celestia thought that there was some sort of eerie paranoia about the way that she swore he could almost sense her sister. It puzzled her over what might be the exact cause of such a possessive trait, but she simply watched as Sombra's tufted ears flicked in the direction of the door.
Was he really that impatient? Perhaps. Sombra did have a short temper, and that was a source of worry for Celestia. She discreetly watched as Sombra's eyes turned to the doorway. Celestia simply searched for any signs of discontent. His jaw was relaxed, and she was glad that she was able to glimpse that past the fluff visible on his cheeks. Though the rest of a fluffy winter coat was evident past his antisocial posture and cloak, Celestia noted only vigilance, and as best as she could, but there was no indication of any aggression. Luna had a bizarre knack for reading ponies better than she could.
Celestia simply found the scruffy look his winter coat lent to his general rough appearance to be distasteful. Could he not have cleaned up before visiting? Did he think himself charming? She stifled a tsk as the sound of hoofsteps became louder and the sound of blood in her ears grew with it. Everything external of Celestia — herself and Sombra being the exceptions — felt jubilant and charged with worry all at once. Celestia tried not to think of Sombra's gift. She did not look at his tufted ears, or gaze upon the face of evil.
She remained calm. Luna walked into the room, a burst of dark and an all-too-natural lopsided smile upon her muzzle. Her turquoise eyes were filled something that couldn't be described as anything but happiness and earnest. Luna had never been the one to hide feelings; whatever she showed was earnest.
"What in particular were you two squabbling about while I was gone? Sister, does my dear Sombra want a sweater too?"
Sombra rolled his eyes but didn't appear annoyed.
Celestia gave Luna one of her thin, small smiles. "No, Luna, he simply was being a bit rude, and did not try any cookies. I told him that as our guest he is able to have some."
Luna didn't look the slightest bit surprised, simply standing tall in the doorway with her horn lit. "Tia, Sombra is a vegan, as the diet is called by modern ponies," Luna said casually, as this were a plain fact. Maybe it really was.
Celestia inclined her head politely, smile lessening as needed. She didn't look at Sombra. She couldn't look at Sombra, and it had nothing to do with his alleged dietary habits according to Luna. Over a quarter of the population of Equestria's ponies was vegan, and more than half the food items any one of her subjects could purchase in the average store were as well.
"And is it true that you two were bickering over cookies?" Luna asked, eyes glimmering with traces of mischief, and amusement in her tone. Her horn still glowed, attached to something unseen — even Sombra looked about a little curiously to see what Luna was so playfully concealing. Celestia already knew. Celestia did not want to see. Her heart ached a bit at the thought.
To Celestia, there was uncertainty in the air of the parlor, but nopony who looked upon her would know. No subject. No sister. No draconequus. No monster.
She stood without ceremony, and she stayed calm as she spoke to her sister with the same warm one she used nearly always. She even used it with Sombra many times, but there was always deception in it with him when it was not cold — no monster like him needed even the simplest warmth — even if she wasn't the most intimidating mare when speaking so.
"I will be leaving you two by yourselves then," and before Sombra's piqued curiosity could be vocalized again and she would be subjected to the sound of his baritone voice, she added to Luna: "Have fun."
There was a smile there too. Maybe part of her even meant it. Celestia simply walked out into the hallway as conversation whirled around the room. Her spine prickled lightly with the slightest chill — and all at the knowledge that Luna was with him, and that her gift to him was.
Behind her, and through the door that her heavy-feeling hoofsteps guided her away from, the sound of Luna taking her seat could be heard — likely besides Sombra. Celestia's throat tightened with a sudden queasiness she was careful to suppress.
Luna must be nervous. Celestia wouldn't have heard her otherwise. Luna's array of near-silent motions and unearthly fluidity in said motions caused her to frighten many ponies, no matter how much Celestia told her that if she were to just adjust more she shouldn't have to... and now Luna didn't seem to care about what was commonly thought of her.
Celestia was far enough away from the room. She certainly thought so. The merry halls of the castle seemed to suddenly be quite suffocating the more she thought about the distance that she was putting between herself and Luna.
Yes, she was far enough. If she took a single step forward in the hall — it felt quite chilly to her, she noted absentmindedly, and she disliked this greatly — Celestia thought that her own heart might hammer out of her chest, scraping its way out with all the sharpened feelings wounding her inside. She urged herself not to think about Luna, to make her breathing look more natural, healthy, and restrained even if there was nopony around. Celestia choked the weight of this nervousness down and ignored the pulse of bitterness she felt from it.
Celestia knew full well that she could still hear Sombra and Luna. She wanted to, even if it hurt. In case something went wrong. Her Luna was alone with that monster...
Luna said Sombra could feel magic, and sense the signatures and spells of everypony and everything with some skill — it was because he was a demon, and made from magic himself. That's what Luna said. Celestia didn't doubt it entirely. She was careful with magic around him anyway, she usually had been. He couldn't sense her right here, just whatever bit of her presence was in the room. Her position in the hallway was careful. She was always careful.
And so, two voices drifted from the closed door, and each one was a little pinprick to Celestia's ears...
"A spell-concealing trinket?" began Sombra's voice. Celestia's stomach churned at the sound of it. "You of every creature on this world should know that I can sense something like that."
Celestia's ears couldn't quite believe the small chuckle that followed. Her mind certainly didn't.
"Hiding my gift, are we~?" There was a smirk in his tone of all things, and the melodic sound of a rich, genuine giggle from Luna following.
"Sombra, if this is leading up to you accusing me of getting you nothing more than something so obvious as a spell-concealing object that you'll find as unsubtle upon your sense as I'd find Twilight Sycophant perched on my balcony, black feathers stuck on her plain form and squawking like a crow, then you are sorely mistaken."
Twilight... what?! I know that Luna has paid little mind to Twilight since the Nightmare Night they met, but I thought they were friends! Twilight is a lovely mare, and Luna has instead taken to insulting her behind her back with this beast? I... I'll need to talk with her after all of this is over...
There was that chuckle again, and the sound of movement.
"Luna, just how much does this mean to you? Don't think I can't see it in your eyes; what surprise to have here? Luna, I—"
"Sombra," Luna interrupted, somewhat nervously, but Celestia heard growing confidence in her voice, and Sombra must've too because it seems that he let her speak, "This is important, and I know that you don't need anything showy, but—"
"Luna," Sombra said with a gentle strength that was so unexpected Celestia found it frightening, "You didn't have to get me anything. You aren't trying to hide that you're fidgeting with the edge of the bag — how can I mistake that for anything else? Do you think I'm not going to like it?"
A short, sardonic laugh mixed with a touch of the arrogance Celestia never stopped loathing.
"Som," Luna said quietly, "it isn't that..."
"Even if you got me a radish with a face drawn on it or a single, stale waffle, I wouldn't exactly mind," came that dreaded deadpan. Celestia almost wanted to storm in there herself. He might as well have been insulting Luna's gift — one he hadn't even been presented with and was already rejecting, the ingrate! Was this supposed to reassure Luna? How were her feelings supposed to be preserved against this?
Celestia did want him to say 'no'...
"Oh? I shall certainly keep that in mind for next year! And what if I were to get you a fine crab as a gift?" Luna's voice didn't sound like a mare who had been slighted at all. She sounded like she found a joke — though there hadn't been any — to be quite funny.
"Luna," Sombra said her name with a growl that had Celestia's heartbeat quickening at the cruel, rough, and unequine sound and her legs wanting to run, to dash in there for Luna and—
"What, Som? Don't you just adore crabs, as you adore your Fish?"
Luna's teasing tone stunned Celestia. Just what was...?
She didn't register herself blinking until after it happened. She vaguely recalled something Luna said at least once before, about Sombra having a pet fish as she had her dear Philomena. She didn't recall if Luna mentioned the creature's name, mostly because the tragic realization of Sombra being in charge of any life that wasn't his own would end with abuse or the death of whatever charge Sombra had.
Her legs were rooted to the hallway's floor. Her head felt a tad dizzy. The garlands in the hallway looked out of place. They felt out of place.
"Now I'm starting to wonder who is the worst gift-giver between us on this day. You, who has been threatening to gift me with something I despise—"
"Som, crabs really are not worth such a burning vendetta—"
"Crabs are a mistake," Sombra growls, and even where she stood, Celestia felt herself shudder a bit at the awful sound. Part of her wondered what little trip of Sombra and Luna's caused him to direct such a burning rage against such an innocent creature. She'd try to guess why too if she thought Sombra needed a reason to hate anything or anypony.
"Very well. But between us, you might be the worst giver. On other occasions, you have given me such lovely gifts, and yet on Hearth's Warming, you bring me nothing at all? No surprise from the one who knows me best? Som, my heart is wounded."
Luna's voice dripped with a degree of playfulness that numbed Celestia. 'The one who knows her best'? How was that not... Celestia? She was Luna's...
Celestia's mind went quiet. She simply listed again, standing alone with her knees weak from such words.
"Hearth's Warming was founded by bigoted idiots getting lost in the snow. Should we really be complaining about such a bloody stupid holiday?"
"Oh, but there is eggnog!"
It had to just be Celestia's mind, but she could almost hear Sombra raising an eyebrow. "Yes, because I'm sure that eggnog is the best way to redeem this largely useless occasion."
"Perhaps I won't be gifting you with any cuddles later, dear Sombra."
Celestia was relieved she was unable to imagine those two... cuddling. Up until now, she really hadn't even suspected Sombra of having any knowledge against something so kind.
"And perhaps 'dear Sombra' won't even consider staying around if I'm not vigorously cuddled by the end of this riveting ordeal that consisted of me having to be in the presence of your sister."
"...You know, there might be pizza instead of cookies here the next time you're here."
There was a strange pause, and then Sombra's voice: "You know me far too well, Luna."
"And I could say the same from my perspective." There was such fondness in Luna's voice... Celestia thought as hard as she could to where she could have heard such a loving tone used by her reserved little sister, who never had the kindness to spare for any before... and she found nothing.
Another faint sound emanated from the room: something like distant thunder, or perhaps the purr of a cat, only deeper. It was followed by the sound of movement — just slight shifts — and a loud, fond sigh from Luna.
"I love you too, Som." Luna's voice sounded muffled — by a mane or fur. They were... embracing.
The strange 'purr' seemed to grow a bit louder. Celestia found the sound to be so bizarre that she almost had to remember she needed to be alert, for Luna's sake. Then, she was able to feel all the suspicions she needed to consider once again coming to mind, along with the old question of how Luna decided on a relationship with a stall— well, in Sombra's case, a male — in the first place. She could only believe it when it was right in front of her... but always, she remained suitably skeptical of that... not that Luna knew.
"Sombra?" Luna said after a very short while when the rumbling noise died down. "You still want your gift... don't you...?"
There was such a hesitance in Luna's tone, and an almost tangible silent plead that Celestia was baffled as to why Luna just simply didn't beg outright in this; as ugly and morbid a thought as it was, she simply couldn't see how she could get Sombra to do anything. Just how egotistical was he, and how far would he go to have others humiliate themselves before he would do even the simplest things, and for a mare he was supposed to love? For a mare who always deserved better?
"Yes, Luna, give me a free trinket. I'm extremely curious as to why you needed to hide the enchantment." If Sombra smiled, then perhaps he'd flash an arrogant one to Luna as he spoke this.
"Of course you are!" Luna's laugh was short but surprisingly mirthful.
Sombra's response was a muffled noise that might have been a snort. "Can you blame me?"
"Hardly, but Sombra..." The sudden change in Luna's tone with those two words — 'but Sombra' — left Celestia breathless. Might she reconsider? "...I need to talk to you a-about something."
Luna clearly sounded somewhere between nervous and sure of herself: her voice was strong, yet she faltered slightly.
She really was going to consider, wasn't she?
"Luna...?" If Celestia didn't know the monster better, she would almost think that Sombra sounded concerned. "Was it something I said? About Celestia?"
"Not at all, Sombra. I have nothing bad to say, and you know I don't mind most of what you say about her. Your loathing of her has always been apparent."
...And Luna never even tried to correct it? To spread kindness? To push his arrogance into place? If he really loves her and Luna loves Sombra, she could very obviously change him.
More muffled noise slipped past Celestia's ears, but it sounded like motion again, and maybe some disgruntled noise on Sombra's part? She wasn't certain.
"Well, Luna?" Curiosity and caution were apparent in his level voice. "What's on your mind?"
They really had no idea she could hear them.
"You, Sombra," Luna says so softly that Celestia almost couldn't hear.
"Me?" There was a splash of something grandiose in Sombra's usually arrogant tone. "Well, this is certainly going to be flattering." Celestia heard that laugh that had to be his — somehow — again. However, she knew her ears deceived her when they picked up a warmth in the sound — a warmth that was just her imagination. Poor Luna.
"Yes, I am sure you shall find it flattering, Som." Luna's voice sounded a touch wistful. Loving. Truly, the poor dear thought he loved her, didn't she? Celestia's heart sank a little.
Again, Celestia heard that faint rumbling, bodies shifting, and her sister's haunting, soft laugh.
"I'm delighted to spending this day with you too, especially since I will be getting more cookies if Tia is too busy telling you about such dreaded things as—" Luna gagged quite loudly and made a retching noise for dramatic effect, "—common courtesy!"
Celestia was puzzled — and deep down, a little disgusted — to how two such cynical laughs could be so merry at the same time.
Sombra's laugh ended first, but that didn't surprise Celestia. Luna's words did.
"I don't think there's any I love more than you, Som."
The silence that Celestia felt around her was painful. Did that mean...?
"What of your sister?"
"Sombra, that's a different relationship altogether."
"I'm aware, Luna."
"When her and I were younger and we traveled together, I thought we were going to be eternal companions... or at least, as eternal as sisters could be. She was always going to find love. I knew it. No matter how many centuries I live, even if my first were spent with the heart, body, and mind of a filly, there's always some things that are known, and my sister finding love and a kingdom were those things."
If Sombra said anything in reply, Celestia didn't hear it. She didn't think she wanted to anyway and instead tried to keep the flurry of advancing memories at bay, even if their pace was painfully glacial.
Luna continued with a voice that spun the soul of a story, making almost anything she said to sound as though some epic wisdom could be buried in it... at least most of the time.
"Never in my life did I ever think of 'the prince' my sister did. There was no 'princess' either."
What?! No, that couldn't be — Luna doesn't have to lie to herself any longer! She knows that I'll love her either way, won't she? Whether she wants a prince or a princess, I'd never cast her out, never forsake her, not again...
"I had a world, and that was wonderful. I had myself, and that only sealed a love of solitude I already had an inclination towards."
"The best of us do," Sombra commented wryly, earning a short laugh from Luna.
"Indeed! You know what it was like when Celestia and I found the Tribes, and how awful that was for everypony." Luna trailed off into a sigh, and Sombra must've hugged her because she heard Luna thank him for one, voice a little more somber than before.
Celestia wanted to fling that door right open when she heard it. She wanted to get Luna outside, let her talk to ponies to take her mind off this sorrow that would dissolve best in good company. She wanted the contents of that bag to be forgotten. If anything deserved to be banished, it was the gift and the monster who was its intended recipient.
"Celestia loved some of the stallions in the Unicorn Court. I don't know how she did. It really couldn't be love — just blind attraction, maybe? Pity? She was young and thought them handsome beyond the true romantic aspect of such a trait, I know, and I know that around ponies who looked at others with such lust from the corners of their eyes. The very feeling that has never once infected me as wantonly as it does others. I was made even more of a monster for the absence of this and whatever feelings my sister ran wild with, at least in comparison — oh, Sombra stop looking at me like that, you know that Tia is not and has never been any kind of strumpet. But for me, to be shamed and held with such distaste... For not wanting... ugh... to just be invited into the chambers of a stallion that's never treated me like you have, and would think of me just as some kind of temporary pet. And when I was truly not much more than a child! Yet, to them, I should have already had three or so foals and... It was a disgusting era."
Celestia was glad that there was nopony around to see the embarrassed flush of her face. She tried not to concentrate on her thoughts, and all the things she'd need to bring up with her little sister later, and attempted to force them into some kind of static in the back of her mind.
"Ponies are only slightly less disgusting," Sombra said, as though it were plain fact.
"Your contribution is much appreciated," said Luna, exasperated, "And how true that can often be. I'd drink to every instance, but then I'd have nothing left of a liver by the year's end."
"Or the month's."
"A month!" Luna's astonished voice rang out. "Sombra, what faith you have in ponies! I see my dislike of them is rubbing off on you and replacing your wild contempt. Huzzah!"
"Hardly. Can we go back to building up something meant to inflate the ego of yours truly?"
"Of course." Luna's voice held a smile just for him and Celestia hated it. "We met as foes, me attempting to end your life, despite you being not much more than a mystery to me, and you fighting admirably to save your own life."
"So, I'm not the only one nostalgic about that?"
The sound of Luna blowing a raspberry echoed through the hall just enough to be audible to Celestia. "You sap! Between us, it is always you who will be the romantic!"
"Oh, be quiet!" His tone was slightly testy, causing Celestia's ears to perk forward and her great tail to swish with worry. "Somepony might hear! And I'm not that big of a sap—"
"You're a hopeless romantic."
"I am absolutely not," Sombra huffed, and for once Celestia almost probably maybe agreed with him. Somewhat. Partially. There wasn't a romantic bone in Sombra's magic-made-body-from-nothing.
"...And what I meant to say is that here we are now, Sombra. We love one another terribly, and though it has been a rough, long road, I would have it no other way — and never would I travel it with anypony but you. Sombra, for the past two years, you have gone beyond the world's end with me, kept me laughing like no other, listened to and understood everything about me—"
"—everything except your dislike of pizza," Sombra interjected, causing Celestia to allow a small snort to slip — and thankfully go unnoticed.
Rude.
"Yes, yes — but aside from that, Sombra, I have gotten along better with you than anypony else. I've told you things that I've never told Celestia, and that I don't want to. You're the one pony I truly look forward to being around, which is something I can't say for anypony else, your company is always wonderful." She pauses. Perhaps to look at him? "Sombra, you're often on my thoughts at the most mundane of times. I actively want to talk to you. I like to hear your voice and your thoughts. That is something I cannot say for any other. You help me, and I help you. We can do the silliest things together and the most serious. Braving things on my own has always been necessary, but with you, it is something I want whenever I feel lost."
"Luna," Sombra said, sounding... touched by Luna's words. "I—"
She laughed. Gently. "Sombra, you should see the look on your face!" Luna's voice caught a little — she was clearly tearing up, and little sobs mixed with her laughs.
From behind the door, there was a faint noise of confusion that Celestia can't say she had ever heard before. Something like... well, if she were to describe it, Celestia would call it a 'murp'.
"Oh, Sombra!" Luna never sounded this... joyous... in her day-to-day routine, not usually. "I apologize, but you really should have seen the look on your face..." Celestia listened curiously now, as Luna trailed off into laughter again. "...I truly did not mean to poke your muzzle like that — I swear, Sombra I really was just waving my hoof about for emphasis!"
Sombra's response was clear enough: grumbles and inequine growls.
Luna's reply was only to laugh at sounds that stirred a primal part of Celestia — the slightest bit of fear at the noises of a predator.
Celestia was a mare who fancied the God of Chaos and there was something she absolutely never understood about these two.
"Sombra," Luna's voice was so obviously trying to hide a giggle or two, "Would you please listen? There is still a little more I wanted you to know before I present you with your gift."
A short pause, and then: "Very well."
Of course, Sombra had to sound so... grouchy. He really never deserved Luna.
"Oh, no need to look that deadpan, Sombra! I know that you love any praise from me~!"
"That's because you have the nerve to be both honest and flattering towards my egotistical self," Sombra replied, an arrogant slyness in his tone — which had grown more relaxed the longer he spent talking with Luna.
"Then, shall I continue?"
Sombra's response was likely nonverbal — Celestia couldn't hear even the slightest muffled sound — or a whisper.
"All my life, I have known that I have never really needed ponies as I grew older."
Celestia bit back a gasp. That wasn't true! Luna... her time back in Canterlot, her cleansing, her exposure to modern ponies, and more should have taught her just how much she needs ponies — their words, their opinions, their company, and their friendship. Twilight Sparkle had learned, but why had Luna retreated? Why did she seem so happy about it? It couldn't be true happiness — how many times had she said to her, that ponies needed only to understand her. How many times had she repeated what was one an old saying of her own to Luna, now a mantra of her subjects? 'Happiness is in other ponies.'
Celestia's gaze fell down to the floor somberly. If only Luna could have learned that lesson...
"Sombra, your company and the comfort has never been something I've needed, and you know this just as well as I do."
A hoof flew to prevent a gasp from escaping Celestia as her eyes widened. No, Luna, don't say that! I know you love him where I loathe Sombra, but if you really are going to go through with this, you cannot tell him that. You must tell him that it is him you need, and how he occupies your every thought — something, anything but this!
Sombra must've been silently furious at Luna's words, or biding his time and waiting for... Celestia wasn't entirely sure. Her's wasn't Sombra's foul mind.
Though every second of this ordeal was its own eternity, Celestia kept listening. Just in case.
"But unlike any other, I want your company. I want to stand at your side and want you at mine. I want us, Sombra... and that means..."
At the sound of paper rustling, Celestia knew exactly what was being levitated from that glittery paper gift bag with its festive holly patterns. She'd seen that bag far too many times — enough for ten eternities.
"...I want to choose you..."
"Luna," Sombra's confused tone cut in, a sharp contrast to Luna's passionate, loving words, "why are you levitating a damn box that small? What exactly did you get that needed a box with a spell like that one on it?"
He was really that callous, that clueless... In Celestia's mind, Luna was swallowing. Maybe even shaking?
"S-Sombra—"
"Luna," Sombra managed to sound so concerned when he said her name, and Celestia wasn't sure how. "This box, right here, in my magic—"
He took it from her?! He ruined Luna's perfect moment?
"—there's no lock on it, or anything of the sort," he observed carefully. "What could be in here...?"
One of the most painful silence's of Celestia's life followed.
"Luna," Sombra said urgently, finally, voice worried of all things. He'd seen the contents alright.
"S-Sombra—"
"Luna," he cut her off with a repetition somewhere between brusque and clumsy. "Luna, this is a ring. You got me a—"
"...Sombra," Luna said, voice hopeful, concerned, and pleading.
"T-This... I-I can't believe it..." Never would Celestia have thought that Sombra's confident voice could be in emotional tatters of sound. "C-Can I even legally, well... do this? As a demo— when I'm viewed as less than property?"
"Y-You can," Luna said quickly, "If I propose, you most certainly can. That loophole will be more than enough until I can strike such a thing from the laws of this land."
"Why did you do this? Luna, isn't this too much?"
"No, Som. Nothing is too much when what I do is for you... but it is because I knew you would not. We spoke of starting a family eventually — you said you wanted to try a-and..."
They talked about... Celestia's blood felt like ice.
"Luna, I... you had it engraved... 'My Eternity'... That's what I am to you?" Sombra, the greatest monster that Celestia had known, sounded completely and utterly starstruck. Loved, even.
Oh, her stomach felt sick at the sound. A demon should never be lov—
"Yes, Sombra. You've been all that and more to me. I want to be your wife. I'd love it if you were my prince, my Sombra. That would be enough."
"...And the magic on this... Luna, the damage that this ring could withstand is amazing. Your spellwork on this is absolutely fantastic! The ring is even drawn to my presence — how interesting. I won't lose it and it won't be damaged... these enchantments are even easy enough for me to work with if I ever wanted to alter anything..." He trailed off, excited or perhaps lost in thought. "Thank you..."
That absolutely baffling couldn't-be-true phrase coming from Sombra — it simply couldn't mean anything coming from his mouth — pulled Celestia from the chilly feelings and worries that had been roiling in her as she listened, until her heartbeat in her ears was roaring once again. The very sound was like a clock ticking away something precious with that sound.
"Sombra?" Luna's cautious tone cut down the silence Celestia dreaded as much as their words.
As though to spite her unknowingly, Sombra didn't speak, instead, Celestia heard startled 'murps' sound clearly. Had he been that lost in thought? Or...? She let those thoughts fade; Celestia hadn't been too sure to how he'd react to this, but this certainly wasn't how she envisioned Sombra's reaction.
"I chose you, but... Sombra, won't you choose me too?"
Were Celestia not her sewn-up-tight-constant-composure-responsible-careful-you-made-a-promise-you-make-her-happy self she might've burst at the intensity on the silence, the moment. She wanted an answer, and it rang in her head on repeat, no matter how fiercely the quiet drowned it out.
No. No. No. No No.
"Yes."
Blunt as ever, that word was like a needle of ice to her chest. Celestia squeezed her eyes shut, as though that might block out the sounds of Sombra coughing from Luna tackle-hugging her fiancé and attempting to break all his ribs with a crushing hug.
Celestia knew; she'd gotten her fair share of those hugs.
But for composure’s — Luna's — sake she held everything all sewed up tight.
Except for — sinking to her knees.
Except for — the silent tears that coursed down her cheeks no matter how hard she tried to blink them back.
She thought about other things. She tried to distance her mind from all that was unfolding around her. Celestia thought of the distant Crystal Empire, where snow fell plentifully. She tried to imagine Qilin batting at snowflakes with her mismatched limbs, gleefully cooing in her father's arms.
But, she did not see Qilin, nor did she see a green-eyed infant filly with a splash of silver freckles across her little white muzzle, and a mane of soft pink. A face that nopony ever knew she mothered and was born in the court of the unicorns, given to her lover of the time — Sigurd Goldenrod took Freyja Blueblood away from the life she could never have: the life with a mother who was never, ever ready, who loved politics more, it seemed. She couldn't have ever kept that filly — not when she was Starswirl's charge. So, she gave her away. It had felt simple then, it felt simple now. Every doctor who knew or suspected anything was sworn to secrecy, the house Blueblood never even knew their true heritage, and Discord was told the same thing that Luna was, upon her return, when Celestia peeled a few painful layers away from a secret she didn't want to pull from the ugly past: Celestia simply said that she had miscarried a mortal's foal once when she was a young, young mare.
She closed her eyes and tried to imagine her daughter.
As always, she saw Luna's face instead.