“Honey, it's your turn to do the dishes,” Princess Cadence called from the passage between the dining hall and the kitchen. Her voice echoed off the high vaulted crystal walls. The place was far too big for meals that weren't elaborate productions put on for the benefit of foreign emissaries, but she and Shining Armor had, through the clever use of tapestries and curtains, walled off the nearest corner of the hall into a more cozy, comfortable space for eating regular meals.

“No,” replied Shining Armor. He reclined in his chair, the empty remains of a crystal corn casserole on the table before him. “My turn for the dishes was last night.”

Cadence stepped forward and swatted his rear hooves off the table. “Last night we went out for pizza. There were no dishes.”

Shining grinned. “Exactly.”

Cadence scowled. “Honey, do the dishes.”

“Aw, but I was gonna be polishing my helmet!”

She rolled her eyes. “Stars, I wish that were a euphemism.”

Shining Armor, not appearing to hear her, dug a stained old brass helmet – his old cadet helm – out of a bag under the table. He hummed absently as he levitated out an oilcloth as well.

“Shining,” Cadence said, “don't make me make a decree.”

The oilcloth paused in midair. “You wouldn't,” Shining said.

“Scrivener,” Cadence called. “Take a note.”

Thus far unnoticed, a short, portly old pony stepped forward, quill and parchment at the ready. “Yes, your highness?”

Cadence cleared her throat. “On this, the eighth day of the first month of the Fifth year of the Diarchy Renewed,” she intoned formally, “let it pass into law: That each Thursday night, after evening meal, it shall be the duty of the Prince Consort to clean the dishes thereof. May it be enacted by the will and decree of Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, Lady of Canterlot and Empress of the Crystal Empire.”

The scrivener mouthed the words as he wrote them. Finishing with a flourish, he bowed his head. “I will take it to the House of Law at once, your highness.” He waddled off.

Shining Armor pouted, put his helmet away, and stood up. “It's no fair you can actually do that.”

Cadence blew him a kiss. “Love you too, dear."

The prompt: It's good to be the Princess.

This is a thirty minute writing prompt, meaning you have thirty minutes to finish your story from the time you start writing. You may take as much time as you wish to think, plan, or outline before you begin, but once the first word is on the page, the timer begins. When you are finished, post your story to this thread, and, in the tradition of the TMP mods of yore, I will read and give it a comment when I can.

Traditionally, TMP prompts would have a six to eight-hour window in which to submit, but for these legacy prompts, there will be no limit after the prompt is up. Go ahead and post something a year from now, if you like. Just bear in mind that I'm less likely to respond with feedback to anything submitted more than a week or so after the prompt. Good luck!

3953711 Here's Mine:

Legacy Prompt #17: A Kick In The Flank

Celestia smiled at a passing pony, and got a casual smile in return as she walked down Mane Street in Ponyville. It was nice, sometimes, for her to get out and among her dear little ponies. She knew that she couldn’t help everypony individually, but this was a nice way to get to know some of the ponies in Equestria. And she had to confess a particular fondness for Ponyville as a whole. It was really a wholly pleasant town when it wasn’t being ransacked and devoured by parasprites.

Her usual disguise of a pegasus was holding up well, save for a few exceptions. Twilight had almost instantly recognised her, but then, Celestia recalled that Twilight had been brushing up on her illusions recently. And all of Twilight’s Counsel, the rest of the Elements of Harmony, had also recognised Celestia, but had kept the secret, though Rarity had asked Celestia to drop by later, to help her with something. She probably wanted to make Celestia a dress, and Celestia was perfectly happy to oblige her for a while.

The bell above the door tinkled as Celestia pushed it open and entered into Carousel Boutique proper.

“Rarity?” called out Celestia, “I’m here.”

“Oh, Cloudy!” called Rarity, sticking her head out of a nearby door and using the name that Celestia had given for the disguise she was using, “I’ll be with you in just a minute. Do make yourself comfortable.”

“What are you doing here?” grumbled another pony, and Celestia turned to find a young pink filly, sitting on a stool.

“I’m here because Rarity asked me to be here. I’m Cloudy Skies.”

“Well, maybe you can convince her to let me out. I’m sick of it here!”

“And you are?” asked Celestia.

“I’m Diamond Tiara,” said the filly, turning her nose up. Celestia fought to keep her eye from twitching. The filly reminded her entirely too much of Blueblood. “She’s keeping me here and making me do all these stupid, silly things. I should be out, playing with my friends, right?”

“And what are these silly things that she’s making you do?” asked Celestia, certain that this was what Rarity had asked her here for. As Diamond listed several etiquette exercises, memories of letters from Twilight and Rarity both floated to the forefront of Celestia’s mind, each mentioning that they were attempting to rehabilitate a bully at the local school. Obviously, they weren’t having too much success. Celestia also realised that Diamond Tiara was still talking, ranting out her feelings.

“...it’s all because of these three stupid blank flanks at school. So I made one of them cry, big deal. They just went crying to their sisters and got them to intervene. And she took my tiara!” cried Diamond, pointing a hoof to the top of a cupboard, where Celestia could see a slightly dusty jewelled tiara sitting there, out of reach.

Out of the corner of her eye, Celestia could see Rarity poking her head around the doorway, pretending not to be looking. Celestia wasn’t stupid, she could see what Rarity wanted to do. But Celestia just needed a few more peices of information first.

“And what, exactly, did you say to the other filly?” said Celestia, hoping that the filly would be worked up enough that she would simply blurt it out.

****Time****

“It wasn’t even that bad!” said Diamond, “Everypony in town knows she can’t fly, that she’s never going to fly, even she knows it. I don’t get why she got so upset! It’s not like she hasn’t heard it before.”

Three strikes. Celestia preferred to not intervene in ponies’ personal lives, believing that most ponies were good at heart and could work through any problem by themselves. But sometimes, some ponies needed a kick to the metaphorical rear to get going. And there was no better kick than knowing that Princess Celestia was disappointed, Celestia had found.

And though she knew it was slightly wrong, Celestia did occasionally enjoy the look on a pony’s face when they discovered that the pony they’d been talking to was, in fact, the Princess.

Celestia dropped her illusion, and through a strange coincidence, noticed that every blind in the room was also drawn.

“Hello, Diamond Tiara. I’m Princess Celestia.”

‘Yes,’ Celestia thought, as Diamond went from almost smug to what looked like pure terror, ‘that’s the expression.’ It was times like this that made all the meetings, all the budget books and court intrigue absolutely worth being a Princess. Knowing that she had helped set a pony on the path to becoming better never got old, no matter how many times she did it.

The expression that crossed their faces never really got old, either.

3953711

(This one is shorter than I'd like but what the heck. Also I suppose it hints towards some possibly unpleasant subject matter at the end.)

Princess Cadance walked slowly into her bedroom and slumped down onto the expertly woven sheets that covered her griffon-down bed. The unbridled luxury of it quickly sapped away the fatigue from her recent meeting with Celestia. As much as she couldn't let herself stop smiling during the exchange, Princess Celestia had a certain... way about her. Something in her eyes made Cadance feel as though she could see right through any sort of facade or misdirection without any effort. Though it plainly wasn't true, it was still exhausting.

She glanced over to the bedside table, her eyes met only by an empty platter and pitcher of lukewarm water.

"Another plate of these... chocolates, and a bottle of the Canterlot Vineyard."

The hoofmaiden, whose name Princess Cadance had already forgotten, nodded quickly and galloped off with the empty plate held in her mouth. Princess Cadance smiled as she looked around her bedroom. It looked much as she supposed it always did: various souvenirs and memorabilia from her life in Canterlot, interspersed with beauty products and very expensive-looking silks and tapestries. Fitting for a pony of her station, she thought.

She looked to the doorway, noticing one of the EUP guards there. For a moment she wondered how they all managed to have the same color scheme, and just how they all seemed so perfectly toned and trained. "You! Guardspony. Find a masseuse. A stallion; the one that Celestia prefers."

A moment of hesitation, and the guard saluted sharply. "Your highness!"

As he galloped off, Princess Cadance let a smile spread across her lips. There it was. That hesitation. That doubt in their eyes. The half-second glance to make sure the source of that commanding tone was really Princess Cadance of Canterlot. She couldn't deny that it pleased her that they felt used, or disrespected. It was to be expected, really. Though she supposed that, as fun as it was to tease and toe at the line, she should be a bit more careful. These weren't exactly her usual servants, and she couldn't treat them the same way.

A few minutes later, Princess Cadance found herself in absolute heaven. The silken sheets against her coat, the softness of the griffon down and the expertly firm pressure of the royal masseuse's hooves on her back, the lingering taste of the fine chocolates mixed with the absolutely sublime dessert wine, it all combined to give nothing short of perfect relaxation.

Princess Cadance, Mi Amore Cadenza, was finding that she understood precisely why Celestia preferred this masseuse. He seemed to know without prompting exactly where each press of his hooves should be, how to work the tension out of each and every muscle, and just the perfect way to touch her body to elicit the best of responses. It would probably be seen as somewhat improper, to be such putty in this stallion's hooves, but Cadance found that she didn't particularly care about that just at the moment.

Interestingly, that thought was not immediately followed by the wrong pony walking in. No, that only happened several long, blissful minutes later. Shining Armor's hooves gave a distinctive heavy, clopping report on the stone tile of the castle hallway as he walked toward the room. Cadance would know that sound anywhere, even after so short a time living in the same castle. Still, she only allowed her smile to change from blissful to a bit smug, and allowed the masseuse to continue his work.

The pointed clearing of a stallion's throat broke the stillness of the royal bedroom, and the royal masseuse jumped back from the princess as though the touch burned him. Princess Cadance turned her head toward the door, finding Shining Armor there in his EUP Captain's uniform, with a slight furrow in his brow that apparently had enough of an effect on her servants to send them quickly stammering and scattering away from her. She raised a hoof and spoke. "You're all dismissed. Come in, my dear."

The hoofmaidens trotted out of the room quickly, throwing nervous glances at Shining Armor, and the masseuse followed as well, mumbling an apology and something about following orders. Shining Armor's expression softened a bit as Cadance smiled at him, but he still didn't move further into the room than just the doorway. "Cadance, we're not really supposed to be seeing each other much before the wedding. I'm supposed to be greeting my sister and her friends tomorrow, and there are a lot of security measures I still need to-"

Princess Cadance's horn glowed a bright green as she pulled the door closed behind her fiance, and the telekinetic magic disguised a small spark of a spell that quickly worked to allay Shining's reservations and make up his mind to stay. Cadance rolled a bit to the side on the bed, smiling over at Shining with a strange light in her eyes. Her voice dropped the commanding tone from before, becoming syrupy smooth and inviting. "Shining Armor, surely you wouldn't deny your fiance? Don't worry about that stallion, you know that we share a love too powerful to be stopped."

Shining Armor's brows furrowed, and a slight buzzing headache suddenly made itself known, but he could... he could hardly say no to her when she asked like that.

As the soon-to-be prince walked across her bedroom floor toward her bed, Princess Cadance's smug smile returned. As a general rule, she didn't like to play with her food. But this particular morsel was just too sweet to resist, and she was finding that, as much as she knew herself to be a Queen...

It was good to be this Princess as well.

3953711

Legacy Prompt 17: To be called

“Thank you, but I’m afraid I really must refuse.”

The baker finally relented, putting his tray of delicacies aside with a smile. “Ah, you say that now, your highness, but I’m sure you’ll be back soon enough.”

The dark blue mare facing him returned that gentle smile, brushing her star-gemmed mane from her eyes. “Perhaps,” she said, “or perhaps not, though I thank you for the offer. Still, the day is getting on, and I need to return to the palace.”

“Ah,” and the sound came not only from the baker, but from the other ponies who had gathered around as well. As one, they backed away, allowing the dark mare the chance to step outside. She, for her part, accepted the offer, gracing the crowd with her smile, and with such small kindnesses as she could on her way past them, then unfurled her wings and took to the air, filled by their joy as she headed for the palace.

As she entered the palace airspace, the star-haired mare veered slightly, aiming for the wide balcony to her suite. She landed expertly, stepping lightly on the mosaic tiles depicting the night sky, then stepped through the doorway into the bedroom.

She’d only gotten three steps inside when the door slammed shut behind her, not of her own will, and a deep, familiar voice filled her with dread. “Tell me something. Does it please you to violate your parole like this?”

The dark mare spun. The result was, for her, a bit like looking into a mirror, albeit one with a scowling expression, and her legs gave way beneath her as Princess Luna, the real one, stepped forward. “Well, Chrysalis? I’m waiting for an answer.”

Chrysalis sagged to the ground, a wave of fire splaying out around her as she set aside her disguise for her own hole-scarred form. Hesitantly, she held up a hoof, displaying the silver band fastened to it. “I did have the tracker bracelet on me,” she said, without much hope.

“That,” said Luna, sharply, “was not what I meant, as you well know. Nor was the fact that you went out without your duty guard. Nor was the fact that you told no one what you were doing - and no, leaving a note scrawled on a napkin and stuck to the icebox does not qualify. We are trying to rehabilitate you, Chrysalis. I had thought you were willing to work with us in that. So what could possibly have possessed you to steal my form and go wandering through town?”

“I,” Chrysalis began, then stopped. “This is going to sound really stupid,” she said, hanging her head, “but I was hungry.”

Luna drew back, confusion written on her face. “We feed you the same food as Celestia and myself eat. How could you-”

“Not like that,” Chrysalis said, interrupting. “You’re forgetting what I am. We need to feed on love to survive, your highness, and because every guard assigned to me knows what, and who, I am, I’ve been starving up here.” She held up her forehooves in a gesture of surrender. “I’m not saying I don’t deserve it. Tried to invade by brainwashing the guard captain, barely survived getting blasted away, then was stupid enough to try again and ended up… what’s the phrase they’re using? ‘Tasting the rainbow,’ wasn’t it?” She shrugged. “I was wrong. I understand that. And I admit I was wrong with what I did today, but I couldn’t help myself. I was just so hungry, and they all love you.” Chrysalis lowered herself to the ground, tears beginning to pool at the edges of her eyes. “I get it. I’ve ruined your plans for me with my little stunt. You might as well tell your sister to ready her sword. I won’t resist.”

Carefully, Luna laid a hoof on Chrysalis’s withers. “Why resort to these measures? Why did you not tell us what you needed?”

“After what I did?” Chrysalis asked, laughing hollowly, “you’d ask me that? The three of you have to hate me more than anypony else does. I know Princess Cadence does.”

“No, Chrysalis. I cannot speak for Cadenza, nor truly for Celestia, but in myself, I do not hate you.” Gently, the hoof caressed Chrysalis’s shoulder. “Your kind feed on love, you say. Then look at me, and see what my love is like.”

Confused, Chrysalis did so - and was almost struck blind. To her empathic sight, the Night Princess was surrounded by a ball of vivid silver, light-of-love, burning more brightly than the sun. The image was marred, though, a single dark slash striking across it, almost a scar of shame and sorrow. She looked up in shock as her vision returned to the normal world, and Princess Luna nodded. “I, too, have ‘tasted the rainbow,’” she said, “that, after all, is why you were placed in my charge. I probably know more than any other where you are right now. My love is yours, dear heart, whenever you need it.”

Luna then shook her head. “Despite my chastisement, I had another reason for coming here,” she said. “Celestia and I have finally hashed out the final details of your new identity.” Dark blue magic pulled a scroll from off of the bed, over to the changeling queen. “Please read over it.”

Chrysalis did so, in detail. “New name, Sheltering Heart… unicorn mare, cutie mark is… ado-” She paused, stunned, then raised her eyes up again. “‘Princess Cadet and adopted daughter of HRH the Princess Luna?’”

Luna nodded. “Celestia agreed for political reasons, but I proposed it. You need a family in this time of turmoil, dear heart, and as your own is…” She paused, looking for the word she wanted.

Chrysalis blanched. “Unavailable,” she said, “let’s just go with ‘unavailable’.”

Slowly, Luna nodded. “That will do,” she said. “Anyway, because of their… unavailability... I had thought to offer you a new family. And as I said, I do know what you are going through.” She shrugged. “The rank itself carries no privilege nor responsibility; it merely notes you as a member of the royal house. It is, to my best understanding, the equivalent to whatever Blueblood’s however-many-greats grandfather somehow obtained.” Luna shrugged again. “Celestia hopes you will take responsibilities with it as a representative in Court of the free changelings. For myself, it’s merely the price of what I wished to offer you.”

Time Limit

Chrysalis shook her head. “I… I can’t accept this. With all I’ve done, I don’t deserve-”

Luna cut her off. “Deserved or not is no longer the issue. And need I remind you of the last condition of your parole? That once your new identity was delivered to you, you would accept it fully for your own?”

“I-” Chrysalis paused, then bowed her head. “As you wish, your highness,” she said, then transformed into the mare whose image was depicted on the scroll.

The newly-minted Sheltering Heart stepped forward, hesitantly. “May… may I… ?”

Luna nodded. “Of course, my dear.” The Night Princess settled to the ground, and as Sheltering Heart collapsed against her side, wrapped a wing around her new daughter. “As I said, dear heart, my love is yours. Take all you need.”

Sheltering Heart did so. Disguised as Princess Luna, she’d enjoyed royal privilege, feeding her heart and mind and thinking it good, even as she knew it wasn’t really hers to take. Now, rescued, forgiven, and elevated in a way she’d never dreamed possible, she fed her soul, knowing it to be both good, and truly hers, and as she did a deep wound to her spirit finally began to heal.

3953711
Legacy Prompt No.17, A Visit From Death, by KwirkyJ

One of the things about Death is that he often arrived at terribly inopportune moments. Perhaps in the middle of court, in the dead of night, or when in the water closet (though he would politely wait outside). His coming would always be abrupt, but unmistakable. It was of a small relief to Celestia that he came at a time where she need not make any excuses. The sharpness in the air, the hint of coldness with a suggestion at a scent of nutmeg, told her of his presence before he spoke.

I trust that now is not a bad time?

Celestia folded her wings, set her lifted limbs upon the floor, and returned her consciousness to her body.

"You've done far worse. I was simply meditating."

A curious pose.

"It is one I have taken a liking to of late. I find it surprisingly relaxing."

I must take you at your word.

Celestia finally looked at him. Hooded, black, with features obscured and more imagined than visible. The cloak that surrounded him draped over curious shapes, never the same twice. She wondered at the magic that must surround him, sometimes.

"Tea?" she offered, already moving towards the fireplace.

She filled the kettle and set it over the flames in silence, listening to Death settle near the table.

"Who is it, this time," she asked, taking a cushion across him.

Skeleton Key. Time for him to open his final doorway. Unlocking the final truth.

"Practicing?" She lifted an eyebrow.

There are many idioms. I try to keep them fresh. You don't mind.

"No, I don't at that. I will miss him. He has been a good guardspony."

I will pass along your praise.

"I... Thank you. Even after all these times, the nature of your work unsettles me."

Try not to think on it too much, then.

They lapsed into silence, simply basking in each others' company. The fire crackled in the background, the water churning ever more agitatedly.

"How is War?"

As bigoted as ever, keeping himself far away from you, said Death. You might have at least apologized when you sent him away.

"Family though he may be, you know I will never do any such thing."

Death made a gesture that suggested a shrug.

"Besides, this too shall pass."

An excuse?

"An inevitability. I have created a paradise here. I know it won't last forever, and when it crumbles, he will assuredly lead the charge, rubbing it in my face for all it is worth."

I recall a filly telling me of the forever she would bring into being.

"That filly was... Idealistic," she finished. "Forgive me."

Nothing to forgive.

The teapot began whistling. Celestia rose, and Death mirrored her.

"You aren't staying for tea, are you?"

No time. Sorry.

"I understand."

Celestia lifted the kettle away from the fire. She felt him leaving, but not yet gone.

"Death?" she called, not turning to find him.

Yes?

"...Nothing."

Until again, Princess.

"Until again."

This one got away from me, in part because I had more of a circumstance more than any story to tell. *sigh* In case it isn't obvious, my take on the prompt, here, is that the Princess has a more -- ah -- friendly and persistent relationship with {d|D}eath than most all other ponies.

3955589 Celestia would take great pride in setting one of her little ponies on the right path, wouldn't she? And seeing Diamond Tiara's eyes bug out of her head, well, that's just an added bonus!

One bit of mechanical advice; take a look at that second paragraph and see if it's at all possible to get rid of some of those commas. There's one long sentence with like six of them and it reads very, very choppy.

Otherwise, good job.

3956594 I understand the impulse to apologize when you feel like you could have done a little better at this one thing or that, but let me assure you that there has been no apologies necessary for this story or indeed any of the stories you have submitted.

In this, I like how the clues slowly add up throughout the story that this is not actually Cadence. Little things like her treatment of the staff and her unseemly indulgence in the luxuries offered her all paint a picture that is less of the Cadence we've come to know in the show and more of the one that made Twilight so suspicious of her. The reveal at the end is not so much a twist as a confirmation of where we are and what story we're telling.

3958851 ...And then we get a very different picture of Chrysalis. Defeated, repentant... 'woobified,' I believe is the trope.

So she's been adopted by the Sisters. A princess in the same sense that Blueblood is a prince. Fair enough.

3958858 I see that somebody reads Terry Pratchett. Death's lines of dialogue are spot-on.

I wonder, though. The story seems to imply that Celestia is related to Death and War. I can't really picture her as either Famine or Pestilence, though. Or am I overthinking it?

3959965
You are both over-thinking it and not.

At the time of writing, I decided to lump all the immortals into one big family (there's a joke in there, I just know it), explained with a mechanic that I didn't get to incorporate where 'The first rule of immortality is that you will die.' However, upon a quick look at wikipedia for the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, a few fun options are also available to explain. In place of Pestilence, I propose Conquest -- given how Equestria seems to be more or less a superpower (hegemony?), it makes a degree of sense that Celestia embodies that horseman; and, given how an eternal night would impact the ecosystem, three guesses who's (unsuspectingly) Famine. There are other ways of shuffling them around, but I'll stick to either of those.

I'm glad you approve of my execution of Death -- it has been some time.

Quite unrelated, I'm having a think on something else, focusing on either Luna or Twilight. Because Luna. ...And that other one who gets both too much and not enough attention.
We'll see if I can't get another story out of this prompt.