Chapter 13: Sweetums
Seeing the library had Celestia gaping in surprise.
“Is this all?”
Around her, where she expected the shelves to be laden with untold volumes of all different scripts, origins and form, were empty shelves and few books. A young mare with a tousled mane wearing glasses and a beanie scampered from her post at a forlorn desk and skittered to a stop before them.
“Princess!” she greeted with a low bow.
Celestia was almost beyond hearing her, she couldn’t stop staring. “Where… are all the books?”
The mare peeked up from her bow and stared at the Princess in confusion. “The books, Your Highness?”
Celestia gestured around them. “The books, you know, paper bound between covers for reading? They’re often found in libraries.”
“They’re all here.”
Luna stepped forward. “Sister, do you not recall that you had most of the books donated away to the public libraries?”
“What?!”
Twilight nodded. “All the books apart from the restricted ones were given to public facilities.”
“Who would—” right, it was her “—I guess most of what I would need would be in the restricted sections of the library, but what about the ponies in my School?”
“School?” Luna asked.
Celestia frowned. “Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns?”
“Since when did such a conception come to pass?” Luna shot Twilight a glance as if she could resolve the dilemma. Luna glanced back at Celestia, saw her look, and immediately added, “I-I mean we have not heard such a thing, sister.”
Celestia made an effort to smooth her features, given how touchy they were with the other Celestia’s reactions, she could afford to be a little more patient. But how would she research a way to get back, or even prove that she was in an alternate reality?
Twilight didn’t seem to notice the exchange and was smiling somewhat dreamily. “Sounds like a school I would apply for.” Then she snapped out of it as she realised Celestia was staring at her. Shaking her head, Twilight added quickly, “But of course I wouldn’t give up the opportunity to assist you as I have now!”
Twilight always seemed eager to prove her loyalty. She wondered if that was her quirk being brought up differently, or if the other Celestia had fostered that feature. Her gut-feeling told her that the other Celestia would, but she would reserve judgement until she found out the truth. Every second that passed, she was beginning the like the other alicorn less and less.
“Never mind, I think I will explore the library at a later date.” She remembered the mare still lying prone on the floor, and suppressed a little flare of guilt for leaving her there. “What is your name, dear?”
The mare quivered as she straightened from her bow. “Pounce Pot, Princess.”
“Thank you, Pounce Pot. I would like you to gather some references for me.”
“Yes, Princess, anything!”
Slightly taken aback by the heart-gripping enthusiasm of the librarian, Celestia hesitated briefly before responding. “In that case… could you please fetch me Raugher’s Renditions, Starswirl’s Spellighraphys, Mellow’s Matrices and Helical Hyperdimensions, to start off with. Actually, on second thought, have them sent to my room, I will review them later.”
“As you wish, Your Royal Highness.” Nodding and bowing several times, Pounce scurried away to do her bidding, looking uncharacteristically overjoyed to be given something to do. Celestia watched with some bemusement as she disappeared around a corner.
“Excitable librarian isn’t she?”
“Was that entirely necessary?” Luna commented wryly.
Celestia blinked at Luna’s tone. “What was?”
“Assigning her a task,” Luna replied with a tone that indicated she thought it was obvious, “Twilight can adequately handle any matter you give her, you trust her so.”
Twilight nodded avidly. “You can trust me to get it done, Princess. There’s no need to order somepony like that to do it.”
“Like that?” Celestia repeated, dumbfounded.
Luna shook her head and glanced meaningfully in the direction Pounce had disappeared to. “Ponies like that are often relegated to tasks like these because they haven’t done so well in Central recruitment.”
Celestia blinked again, feeling like a broken record. “Central recruitment?”
Luna eyed her for a long moment, as if she was unsure if the inquiry was a test or a genuine question. “Central recruitment was something you’ve instated, sister. All ponies receive a centralised education system that ranks all participants based on a variety of aptitudes. Especially favoured are those that can be assigned to Military Academy, where those are hoof-picked to be a part of the guard and get a chance to earn glory in defending our Empire.” Luna cocked her head as if a thought had suddenly occurred to her. “Though some can directly challenge in Court, as before.”
“That sounds horrible,” Celestia spluttered, her face a mask of disgust. “How can anypony justify something like that?” Their silence being the only response, Celestia resolved to keep such thoughts to herself from now on. They obviously thought it was her doing, though they were not at fault for doing so. She was about to turn to another subject, but then it hit her. “Wait, Empire?”
Luna nodded warily, watching her sister more like a mouse does a cat, rather than one sibling does to another. Celestia made the effort to smooth her expression. Even though she had impressed upon them that she had come from a different Equestria, Luna seemed to firmly believe otherwise. She had to gently guide her back, but now was not the time.
“The Empire, sister,” Luna continued with something between a falsely jovial and a meekly cajoling tone. “You know, the Empire you helped build that encompasses most of the land?”
Celestia tried to grapple with the idea. “I didn’t have to… fight anypony to make it happen, did I?”
Luna laughed. “Goodness, no.”
Celestia heaved an inward sigh of relief.
“Not any pony,” she continued with a chuckle, “and it wasn’t much of a fight! But I believe you have fought griffons, dragons, minotaurs…”
As Celestia listened to the litany of creatures the other Celestia had fought to maintain ‘the Empire’, she was acutely aware of that fact that she should be surprised, but could not work up the feelings to be so.
To think, she thought darkly, this started off as a vacation.
—————————
It had been strangely gratifying to see Luna and Twilight sit there with their mouth agape, though only between the rushing to and fro of their quest to lessen the administrative load of their suddenly engaged Princess. After being disappointed with the library, Celestia decided that she would catch up on a few week’s worth of paperwork, so she attacked it with a newfound alacrity. She thought the action surprised them, what with her being so suddenly capable. Well, capable without resorting to the destruction of nearby furnishings and pony hair, as she heard told. Twilight had been ablaze with her ardent interest in what Celestia was doing, often stopping to ask her questions and marvelling at her apparent restraint in dealing with some of the more testing of bureaucratic forms.
“What about this, Princess?” Twilight held out a scroll and beamed.
“Hmm, a strange way of dealing with the problem, but the budget is balanced and sound—no wait, perhaps it would be better to move the assets here, and shift the load of work to this district.”
Twilight glanced at the calculation and nodded. “Thank you, Princess.”
Luna crept over and checked the figures. “As competent as ever, sister.” She seemed uneasy, despite the fact that nothing had gone wrong throughout the last half of the day.
“I don’t mean to sound like a broken record,” Celestia told her sister impatiently, “but I am different from the Celestia you knew.”
“That we are beginning to see,” Luna admitted, with a gaze sweeping across the discarded parchment and administrative refuse. “I cannot fathom why.”
“It’s simple—”
“—in a way does not concern interdimensional travel,” Luna added.
“Technically it’s not—” Twilight choked off her explanation and shrunk under a quelling look from Luna. “Never mind.”
“Sister, you have faith in yourself, but I am not so strong. I would like it if you would see the doctor.”
Celestia placed the scroll back down with the others as the trio were stifled by an ominous silence.
“A doctor?” Celestia posed mildly.
Luna nodded, her stance firming. “It is quite obvious something has happened in your absence. We have performed a medical investigation, but it was far from thorough.”
Celestia sighed. “You won’t find anything.”
Luna raised an eyebrow and strode forward so that she was less than a foot from the other side of the desk. She leaned forward slightly, her expression imploring. “Perhaps, sister, but what have you got to lose?”
Celestia considered it. It wouldn’t hurt to have a medical examination. She smiled. “If it will set you at ease, Luna.”
Luna looked both happy and disturbed that she would acquiesce so easily. In fact, her willingness to set her at ease seemed to only further her clear conviction that something was wrong. Luna, hesitated for a few seconds more, then came to grips with the internal conflict reflected in her eyes and tilted her head.
“I will arrange for the doctor,” she said, before turning around and leaving.
“Wait,” Celestia called out. “I have a question.”
Luna froze, then turned around. “Yes?”
“You’ve lost your ancient Equestrian dialect, why is that?”
Her sister looked uncomfortable being the one under scrutiny.
“Luna?” Celestia pressed.
Luna heaved a sigh, and answered reluctantly. “A courtier once made a jest at my expense. He is of no consequence, but I will give no other opportunities to those who seek them.”
“Ah, I see, I was just wondering.”
Luna tilted her head as if considering something, then added, “Also, I would like to blend in with my subjects. In your… extended absence I’ve had to make changes. The… physicians advised me that reminding you of old speech might trigger some memories. I have abandoned the effort, and speaking in a more modern tone is more befitting for a ruler closer to her subjects. We are for want of a more united Empire, after all.”
At the mention of the Empire, Celestia inwardly winced, but gave an approving nod. The physicians? She didn’t have to be a genius to figure out that Luna was lying to her, she had chosen to do so for another reason, but she couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason. Seeing Luna staring apprehensively at her, Celestia decided to let it go.
“Thank you, Luna.” She watched as her sister returned the nod and shut the door behind her. Celestia turned to Twilight, raising an eyebrow. “She still doesn’t believe me.”
Twilight looked torn. “I know she doesn’t, and honestly, I still have my doubts. Not a day ago, I probably would have agreed with Princess Luna, but now… I’m not so sure.”
Celestia blinked in surprise. “What changed your mind?”
“You, Princess,” she admitted, levitating a scroll. “You might have been competent in paperwork, but there’s no way you could be this intimately knowledgeable about some of things you’ve done unless you’ve been living and breathing this work like I have. Also, the way you’ve handled the policy just seems so…”
“Not myself?”
Twilight could only nod.
Celestia smiled. “So you believe me?”
“No,” Twilight said finally, looking pained just saying it. “I guess, I don’t want to admit it.”
“Why?”
Twilight bit her lip and looked away. “Because if it’s true that you’re from another Universe and you have to head back, there’s no guarantee that we’d get our Celestia in that bargain.” Tears welled in her eyes. “I don’t want to lose you again. The first time was painful enough.”
Celestia felt that there was something more that Twilight wanted to say, but she was holding back. Seeing the unicorn gaze at the ground for a while, Celestia decided she needed a little prompting.
“That’s not the only reason, is it?”
Twilight glanced up and made eye-contact, shivering as she did so. She looked so much like a frail quail chick that had fallen from her nest. Without a word, Celestia swept from her desk and wrapped herself around her vulnerable student.
“I’m ashamed to admit it, but I like the way you are right now. You are kind, patient and gentle, but also somehow strong despite all that. I almost want you to stay as you are, and I’m thinking…”
Celestia waited in silence as Twilight collected herself.
“I’m thinking that Luna might feel the same way too.” Twilight stared at the floor intently, as if she were trying to bore through it with just her mind. “I would have never said that before.”
She couldn’t think of a suitable response to that. Even considering that they were different, that they weren’t the same ponies she knew, it was getting increasingly difficult to distinguish them both. The same faces, the same expressions, the same emotions. Celestia couldn’t help but feel a measure of pain for their untenable plight. They so desperately wanted their sister, their mentor, their leader back, and now that they’ve gotten a better trade-in, they wanted to keep it. If it weren’t so tragic, she might have laughed, instead she stifled a pang of loneliness.
“Okay,” she spoke softly in soothing comfort. “I will stay for a while. In any case, I will need to be around to research a way to get back. In the meantime, I will try and find out where your Celestia has gotten to and I will make every effort to bring her back. Does that sound agreeable?”
Twilight looked back at Celestia with wide eyes. “You won’t leave?”
Celestia shook her head. “Well, not for now.”
Twilight sagged with relief. “Thank you, Princess.”
——————
It was late when Celestia finally finished up the last of the paperwork. Though she normally thought the work was onerous on any given week on her world, here it felt like the only bastion of normalcy in this twisted version of Equestria. With a sigh, she placed down the quill and neatly arranged the paperwork she had completed in one pile. Then she arranged it in a couple of ways, alphabetically, chronologically, then alphabetically and then by chronology. Realising she was delaying, Celestia reluctantly left her desk and exited the room.
Earlier, she had dismissed a reluctant Twilight, who looked ready to work until she dropped. With a smile, she realised that this would probably be a common trait between the two Twilights of the different worlds. Some things never changed.
Winding her way through the corridors, the layout being intimate, though the furnishings unfamiliar, Celestia pleasantly greeted the two guards standing outside the antechamber of her personal room. They didn’t move a muscle, but their eyes spoke for them, widening in predictable response to a princess that she guessed didn’t usually exchange such pleasantries. Closing the door to her antechamber, she stripped off her regalia and set them gently on the small table in the room, though keeping her crown. More often than not, she wore it to sleep, sometimes forgetting she had it on. Right now, it was one of the only things left from her world.
Celestia opened ‘her’ bedroom door, registered the insides, then slowly closed it.
“I must be seeing things,” she mumbled.
The doors swung open again.
Inside, the décor was outlandish, to say the least. One of the walls was covered in artefacts of various descriptions that looked like they had been stolen from ancient temples or lost cities. Various weapons adorned the surface of the other wall, ranging from the ceremonial, to the impractical, to the deadly proficient. Some of the weapons turned her stomach just looking at them. The walls were painted red, orange and yellow, with black as a background, with swirling designs that looked more like she had stepped inside a volcano, rather than a room.
“What is this, Sombra’s basement?” Celestia muttered to herself, staggering out of the room into the antechamber. She drew herself up short when she realised there was another pony there with her.
“Twilight?”
Twilight was standing outside the door, wide-eyes and all.
“Settling in?” Twilight asked in what Celestia supposed was a helpful tone.
“I-It’s…” Celestia straightened. “Don’t you have a home to get to? I thought I dismissed you hours ago.”
Twilight blinked. “I live in the castle, Princess. You have me on-hoof in case you need me as your attendant.”
“A-Attendant?” she spluttered.
The unicorn nodded emphatically, giving her a wobbly grin that looked more like a grimace. “Yes, when other duties have been taken care of. It’s usually the paperwork, but, well, you finished it all.” She cringed as if expected a rebuke. Finding none, Twilight opened an eye, but found Celestia just standing there befuddled.
Celestia smiled weakly. “There’s no need to accompany me for now, I just need to find… alternative accomodations.”
Twilight glanced around her to take a peek into the room.
“Is something wrong? Oh no, was there something missing, something that needed dusting or pressed? I tried to get everything together the best I could!”
Celestia quickly waved her hooves in an effort to calm Twilight down. “It’s not that, it’s very clean as far as I could tell… it’s the decor.”
“Oh no, I forgot to hang up one of your trophies, didn’t I? You had a different one every night, but I couldn’t decide which one—” She choked off the last part of her sentence when Celestia laid a gentle hoof on her shoulder.
“It’s fine, Twilight,” Celestia reassured, deciding that it was best, at least for the moment, to bear with the ridiculous colour scheme. Besides, what kind of a colour scheme was black and red? She glanced at herself. It wasn’t as if she were black and red. Even Chrysalis was black and green and Nightmare Moon had been black and blue. Black and red? She might as well declare herself Queen of Tartarus.
“Princess?” Twilight was staring at her with apprehensive eyes.
Celestia snapped back into focus. “Oh, sorry Twilight, what were you saying?”
“I was, uhm, asking if you would like to put your hoof down.”
Celestia’s eyes twitched. Her hoof was still on Twilight’s shoulder. Belatedly, she took it off.
“Ah, sorry.”
“No need to apologise, Princess,” Twilight said with a blush. “Do you need anything else?”
“I’m just not used to that room, maybe I’ll go for a short walk around the Gardens? Late evening tea sounds nice.”
Twilight perked up. “I can help with that, Princess!”
Before she could dash off, Celestia called back the excited unicorn. “There’s really no need for you to help me with that.” Celestia trotted forward with a smile. “Somepony else can handle it. I’m sure you’d like to head back to your home and spend the night with your parents.”
Twilight’s smile wobbled a bit. “M-My parents?”
“Yes,” Celestia replied, “is something wrong?”
“Nothing! Absolutely nothing. Nothing could be wrong. Nothing wrong could be now. Now there is nothing wrong!” Twilight shut her mouth as she realised she was babbling. Celestia stared at her as she added, somewhat lamely, “Princess.”
“Is there something wrong?” Celestia asked.
Twilight winced. “They’re with the Resistance.”
Celestia blinked.
The what-now?
—————————
“And the lands around here are at peace?”
“Yes.” Twilight glanced at the table, wondering if the alicorn would send yet another table to the graveyard. Off to the side lay a pile of broken furnishings. Celestia would destroy a few of them, then resurrect a couple just to destroy them once again. Twilight didn’t say anything, but she couldn’t help but wince with every splintering crack as hoof met wood.
Celestia said nothing, but her countenance darkened like the ominous looming head of a savage thunderstorm.
“Perhaps it’s best if I handled it,” Twilight mumbled, gently easing the documents on the table away from the alicorn. The forms moved a few inches, then met resistive force as Celestia gave her a look and shook them free of her telekinetic grip.
“Despite my temper, I am considerably competent with paperwork, Twilight.” Celestia wrestled the papers back and read them in stoic silence.
In the quiet that followed, something occurred to Twilight, and she cleared her throat. When no response was forthcoming, Twilight tapped her hoof on the desk, trying to get the other alicorn’s attention. “Princess, I was hoping you’d answer one of my questions.”
Celestia glanced up from the documents, then slowly put them aside.
“Speak.”
Twilight bobbed her head slightly, hoping Celestia wouldn’t be prone to breaking another desk. “Why are you doing the paperwork?”
Celestia cocked her head. “Yes, I suppose you would find it strange that I would interpose myself in another world’s work, would it not?”
Twilight merely nodded.
Celestia cleared her throat, looking for once a little unsure of herself. “I suppose you are owed an explanation, this is your kingdom after all.” Celestia ran a hoof along the desk as she rose from it, coming around the table to confront Twilight.
“Do you ever feel fear, Twilight?”
Twilight frowned, not knowing where the conversation was going.
“…of course, Princess.”
Celestia raised an eyebrow. “Not many in my kingdom would dare express that sentiment. To show fear is to show weakness, and there are none in my presence that are weak.”
Twilight shifted her hooves uneasily.
Celestia’s mouth twitched. “You have an objection to this?”
“Fear doesn’t always make you weak.” Twilight levelled a look. “Sometimes it makes you stronger.”
Celestia cocked her head. “Perhaps… but fear is what drives most of us.”
“That can’t be right.”
“No?” Celestia pointed to herself. “Do you feel fear that Celestia will disappear and that I will be the only alternative left?”
“W-What?” Twilight struggled with the question, feeling that the answer was loaded either way.
Celestia stalked towards Twilight, all the time holding her gaze. “Are you afraid of me, Twilight?”
The air crackled with tension as Celestia bore down the weight of a thousand years of ruling, channeling all the severity, the intimidating critical stare that Twilight had only seen once in her life… and it was never directed at her. Gritting her teeth, Twilight held her ground, staring Celestia back despite the fact that she wanted nothing more than to bolt from the room.
“No,” she said finally.
“No?” Celestia smiled wickedly. The foreign expression on such a familiar face was so disconcerting, Twilight was unable to find the words to reply for a few strangled moments.
“No,” she replied more steadily after gathering her reserves. “You want to get back. You need me.”
Reaching out, Celestia ran a hoof down Twilight’s neck, whispering into her ear, “Well in that case…”
Twilight swallowed thickly, wondering if she had made a mistake.
“You have me.”
Blinking rapidly as Celestia parted from her, Twilight let a cathartic shudder course through her frame. What was that all about?
“You have no need to fear my displeasure as long as you are competent, Twilight.” Celestia snorted. “I have made that clear several times in the past—” Celestia blinked and fell silent.
Twilight realised that this was the first time this Celestia had slipped. So far, in her mind, she had always imagined that this Celestia had firmly partitioned the two worlds, confidently keeping them both separate. Now it seemed that she was making an effort to do so.
“You asked me why I would do paperwork, despite, as I guess you would think, that it is not my duty here to do so?”
Twilight nodded, feeling like this was the pivotal point of the whole exchange.
“A Princess doesn’t show she is afraid, or her subjects will become afraid. A Princess feels no fear, is not afraid of anything, has no outward emotion but calm acceptance or, as circumstances dictate, bitter defiance. A Princess must be the bastion of strength her ponies would look up to when all has failed.” Celestia eyed Twilight from the side. “And what of a Princess without her subjects? What becomes of her reason to project strength, to project character, to be stalwart in the face of uncertainty, fear or danger?”
Celestia grew pensive. “A Princess is nothing without her subjects.”
Twilight stared at Celestia as she slowly sunk back down into the chair and stared at the documents. The fire, so boldly blazing moments before, was flickering in the dark uncertainty of her precious perception of reality. She didn’t belong here, and she knew it.
“How do you know a pony if you’ve never met them?” Celestia suddenly asked her.
Disoriented with the whiplash in the conversation’s subject, Twilight said the first thing that popped into her mind. “I-I suppose you’d ask other ponies that know them?”
“And suppose they would lie to you to protect that pony’s character?”
“I-I don’t think they would.”
“Oh? And ponies here never embellish the truth? Perhaps a friend or family member adding fanciful extras to a tale, to make it worth telling?”
Twilight shrugged, thinking of Rainbow Dash. “Not maliciously, though.”
“I would wager to say that ponies hide less in their writing than their speech.”
Twilight sighed. “Why are you telling me all this?”
Celestia smiled, but ignored her question. “Do you know, Twilight, that I despise paperwork?”
Twilight bit back the sarcastic remark that seemed to spring to her lips instantly.
“No, Princess,” she replied instead.
“Paperwork makes the greatest rulers a prisoner of their own ponies. I would never wrap myself in this sordid cocoon of bureaucracy, save that it is the mark of governance, of prosperity, and the secret lies in the parchment cogs of the contemptuous Courts. I may hate paperwork, but paperwork is something I’m proficient at, because it is necessary and my ponies would suffer should I neglect it entirely.”
Celestia rolled up a parchment and placed it on the desk. With lightning speed, her hoof came crashing down, severing the parchment in two and continuing past it to cleave the table in two. Twilight took a couple of surprised steps back, staring at the alicorn warily.
“Paperwork,” Celestia remarked mildly as she magically welded the pieces back together, “also keeps me angry enough to forget that every moment here I’m neglecting my duty over there.”