The Wanderer of the North

by Alaxsxaq

4. The Twin Goddesses: Part 20. Celestia and Luna

4. The Twin Goddesses: Part 20. Celestia and Luna

Was this merely a dream? A pristinely-groomed white face stared back at her, but the Wintermail almost didn’t recognize it as her own. Even her mane—her once short pink mane, lightly dusted with soot, was changed. Now it was long and striped with green, cerulean, and blue. And it seemed to flutter by its own, perhaps charged with the immense well of magic always stored within her.

Patiently she stood on the terrace while hoofmaidens adjusted her dress. That same elegant white dress she’d worn for her knighting was now repurposed for a Coronation. With pale golden trims and sparse adornments of jewels sewn into strategic locations, the garment flowed with her natural curves and shapes. Wintermail appeared a cloud or a wave cresting and coming to life like something from an old sculpture or painting. The mares dressing her were truly masters of an art.

Nikóleva had trod a long journey. At first an awkward giant wandering from place to place, to a grimy smith crafting swords, to a member of the illustrious Canterlot Guard in service to the White City’s court. From there she became a knight and went on to play a critical part in uniting the lords of a broken realm against an otherworldly threat.

The War for Harmony had first sparked with the Fall of Mareposa, and moved eastwards. But by courage, daring, and a little luck Wintermail and her sister the Lady Stellara had earned the right to wield the Elements. With them they struck against Discord, the Hellfiend that had led the Horde on a path of destruction across the land. The Horde was then broken in battle, their mustangs and thestrals enticed into the Equestrian fold.

But battles continued. Those Princes and Kings who yet lived took what they still had and hunted down the remnants of the enemy. Coltorado held fast in its mountains and valleys, their King Cobalt Stone eventually triumphing against the dragons and thestrals still clinging to the spoils of conquest. Warchief Jasicus of the Mustangs was true to his word, his nation clearing out many pockets of minotaurs and zebras. And the allied bat-ponies fought alongside their pegasi brethren, earning a great long-lasting mutual respect from even those ponies of Cloudsdale.

And the Free Cities, great repositories of wealth, combined their fleets and launched expeditions to the South, striking the homelands of the minotaurs and zebras. When word reached of such attacks, most in the Horde preferred racing to defend their homes and families over some vacuous and vain hope of plunder in a country that had been roused to terrible wrath.

Wintermail and her sister had participated in many of these battles, though none were so great, so large, or so decisive as that fought in summer. A harsh chilling winter had set in, but still the fighting carried on. Then when spring came and the frost melted away and the flowers bloomed, the last of the foes ran or surrendered. Some of the Lords, Brynhilda chief among them, rallied to continue the attack and invade Minotaurica in vengeance.

But so far from home many others refused, and ultimately it was decided that the minotaurs posed no more threat. Their greatest warriors were dead or dishonored, their King killed, and their tribes leaderless. Soon the many clans would return to their quarrelsome ways.

Thus little was left but to pick up the pieces and rebuild. Spring turned to summer, and the Congress met one final time to simply reaffirm what was already known on the victory at that Battle for Equestria: to name a new Queen for a reborn Kingdom.

It was not to be an elaborate ceremony; coronations in the deep past could have thousands of entertainers, minstrels and jugglers. Exotic and mystical beasts would have been paraded and made to perform tricks while a banquet was prepared that could feed a city several times over. Some coronations had lasted days, even weeks. Some had commanded budgets in excess of an entire year’s revenue.

Not a prudent policy for a realm recovering from a war.

Wintermail’s was to be conservative, but still some items of ceremony were demanded. A new crown and scepter, crafted only by the finest jewelers in all of Equestria, were absolutely necessary. The renovations to Canterlot Castle were nearly complete by the war’s end; good thing as it would serve as the venue for the reception afterwards. But besides these few luxuries, there would be relatively few extravagances. A fine compliment to a humble and at times austere mare who soon would be Queen, and hopefully would set a responsible tone for the reign to come.

The mare in question looked to her left, seeing her younger sister standing by. Lady Stellara was gowned in deep cool colors: blue, purple and black. Woven to look like the night sky, small gems were sewn into the fabric to glisten like stars. A silver pendant made to resemble her crescent moon hung around the midnight mare’s neck, while her hooves were covered by complimentary slippers.

Stellara’s mane too had changed, grown from that soft periwinkle to a darker and oddly translucent blue, sparkling like stars the same as her dress. And it too waved on its own, awash with a special magic. It was most curious, but the sisters had grown very used to it by now.

“How are you feeling?” Stellara asked.

“A strange mixture of many things,” Wintermail quipped, allowing her maidens to affix the earrings. “Happy, proud, anxious…nervous too. More than a little nauseous.”

Stellara giggled, “Take some gingerroot; it’d be a shame to ruin such a nice dress.”

The white alicorn groaned in reply, slinking back into her thoughts. Very shortly she would be presented before an immense crowd of nobles, commoners, and even foreign observers. A thousand years had passed since such an occasion had happened last, and everything would be portentous to what would occur from hereon. Perhaps it’d be best not to think about it.

A distraction, then, was welcome. “I ain’t bothering you, am I?” came that gruff voice. Henarion stepped through along with Primrose and his son Eldowas. They all looked very nice, well-kept and groomed. Henarion himself almost seemed unrecognizable, what with him dressed in a silken vest and his normally messy mane combed. Wintermail too noticed his new eyepatch, now made of velvet.

“Of course you’re bothering them! Look, they need time to prepare; off we go!” said Primrose, smacking her husband’s foreleg. He took it in good stride.

Wintermail fought the urge to laugh while her attendants finished touching up the alicorn’s appearance. She tried turning to her Uncle only to have one of the hoofmaidens gently direct her back, “Eyes forwards, your Highness.”

“Nonsense!” Stellara beamed, “You are always welcome! Have you come to wish her luck?”

Henarion nodded weakly, then trained his good eye on Wintermail. He watched her, slowly stepping forwards. The gown, the jewels, the ceremony to take place…the old alicorn felt a deep mixture of pride and apprehension. “When I was…ten, my father told me about my ancestors, and how we’d protected the royal heirs for generations.”

“Yes, Uncle,” the white mare replied, “You’ve done a fine job.”

“Ay!” he chuckled then returned to a stern demeanor, “He said: ‘the Exilarch one of these days will have a foal, and when I’m gone you’ll have to take my place.’ Your father was born, my father died, and the cycle started again.”

A trembled, troubled breath left his snout, “I let Maiëlindir die, but I managed to keep you two alive. But when you left, Nikól, I was so scared. I never wanted to stop believing, but I knew enough to know you probably didn’t survive in the wild alone.”

Wintermail kept strong, locking her shame and regret inside with her great will, but even so a shallow breath escaped, “Henarion, I am—“

“But you did, and you made something of your little self. Both you girls; now you’re heroes! I ain’t got nothing to say but what my family’s been after all this time has come true. You’ll be Queen, Nikól, and I’m happy to see it myself.” And then the stallion retreated back beside his wife, she nuzzling her neck in his long stature.

“We would never have gotten out of our cradles without you,” Stellara confessed.

“Only to be of service,” Henarion replied with a bow, “I suppose soon I’ll have to call you ‘Your Majesty’, Nikól.”

“Papa!” chirped little Eldowas, jumping upwards to try and reach his father’s height, “Now that Auntie Nikól is gonna be Queen, what does that make me? Can I be a knight?” The blue colt pattered on his short legs towards the white alicorn, “Auntie Nikól, would you knight me? I want to slay dragons and rescue towns like Father!”

As the boy was running to the Wintermail, Stellara seized him in pale blue magic, levitating him upwards and placing him on her back. “They’ve been telling you too many stories. I’ve told you: it’s a long and difficult journey to become a knight. You have to train and study, and you can’t even fly yet!” Stellara trotted back to the door carrying her “nephew.”

“When I become big, Aunt Taby, then?”

The midnight mare giggled, “We’ll see what your mother has to say. It’s frightful and dangerous business, you know.”

“Ha! I am not scared!” Eldowas proclaimed, puffing up his tiny chest. Stellara shook her head and smiled. “Uncle, we ought to go find our places before things begin.”

“Yes, right. Come, dear,” Henarion said to his pegasus wife.

“Good luck, Nikóleva,” Primrose said.

“We’ll see you soon, Sister,” Stellara warmly spoke before leading her family back out. Along the way they passed another alicorn, the ancient beige bearded stallion. “Good morning, Delbedasir,” Stellara greeted on her way out.

“Lady Stellara,” he nodded, voice unusually light, “Lord Stronghoof; Lady Primrose.” The others responded in kind before they too disappeared.

Eldowas could he heard asking if he could grow beard, and then demanding to hear the story of the slaying of the great Telnarakh, followed by Henarion’s agitation at having told the tale a dozen times before; Eldowas didn’t care.

The Librarian chuckled, “Charming fellows, indeed.” The hoofmaidens were just about finished adorning their to-be sovereign, and soon released her from the pedestal. Wintermail took a moment to inspect herself in the mirror. “Your Highness, we’re almost ready to begin. I trust you’ve memorized your vows.”

“Perfectly,” she said, ensuring her mane was largely covering her right eye as she liked it. Pleased, the mare allowed herself to frown, “Though, perhaps you could give me some advice.”

“Certainly; I intend to remain in your counsel for a long time yet.”

She met his red eyes, swallowing a lump in her throat, “This is all very much—too much almost. Protocol and ceremony are nice, but…a thousand years is an awful long time. There will be much that needs to be rebuilt from scratch, won’t there?”

“I won’t lie: it will be a difficult road. Prince Peter left you a strong foundation to build a kingdom upon, but we’ve a long ways to go before the ancient glory of Equestria is restored—if it even can be.”

“Am I the mare for it?” Wintermail more thought aloud than asked.

“Bit late for doubts I think.”

“And…what does it mean to wear this crown? The Lords named me their Queen, but…surely they didn’t simply give up their own reigns for mine. Will I truly rule or simply be a figurehead?”

Delbedasir stroked his grey beard with a hoof and groaned, “Now that is the question. Will you be a force of nature, a Queen of indelible will? Or will you simply yield to the stronger, fiercer lords who took the reins of your realm and drove off? Every king, be they from Alícor, Equestria, or any other minor nation in history, has had to answer this question. And it has always been theirs and theirs alone to answer. I cannot give you anything more than advice.

“But advice I shall always give. You, Nikóleva, will have to test and study the limits of your power, the extent of your prerogatives. The vows you will make soon will provide you a useful frame, but what law and custom does not tell you will be your own creation. And there will be struggles. You will fight and argue and disagree. There will be disputes and riots, rebellions and even wars.

“It is a shame Peter was not able to teach you all the tactics of statecraft, but you will learn them in time yourself. You must, for though the Kingdom was won by heroic deeds and good virtue, it must be kept with guile, shrewdness, cunning, and good manners.”

“I’d have done better to stay a knight,” Wintermail sighed.

“’Dame Wintermail’ had a nice ring, didn’t it? What will the Queen be known as?” he asked. He’d given her the assignment to decide a regnal name, something that spoke of what she wanted to be as ruler, what she wished to say of her reign. Some Kings took names for their achievements in battle. Some wanted to recall earlier kings, conjuring memories of those perceive golden years; often they fell short of their inspirations. And still others were quite content with the name their parents had given them.

But Wintermail didn’t want to keep her name. Nikóleva was a nice name, and described her well. When King Hillwick’s father had translated it all those years ago into ‘Wintermail’, it suited her very nicely. But Wintermail was a certain pony of a certain time: a smith, a knight, a warrior, a wanderer. Wintermail, or Nikóleva, had been many things, but a Queen was not one of them.

Wintermail was hot-tempered, brash, self-doubting, and troubled. The Queen her realm deserved would be sober, stoic, gentle, and above all reliable. The white alicorn must be the rock upon which all other ponies depended on staying firm.

She’d given thought to it before, and had a few good ideas. But upon a little further reflection, Wintermail at last found the perfect name; one that evoked what she wanted her reign to be about. The Librarian patiently waited until she raised her head and smiled, speaking her new regnal name to him.

He nodded and grinned, “It suits you.”

Immediately he called her towards him and began to lead her out; time was up and the coronation was to begin. The two left the dressing chamber, the hoofmaidens following behind. They emerged into one of the numerous hallways of Canterlot Castle, a pair of guards flanking the doorway detaching as entourage to the Queen-to-be. Few words were spoken, Wintermail’s thoughts afire with those same mixed emotions that were knocking her mind since she had woken up. But her will, her determination were both far stronger than any anxiety, and she would stay the course—it was too late to turn back and the white alicorn would never truly have done so.

The hall was eerily quiet, most ponies in the throne room awaiting their sovereign. The marble floors were polished and the sun peeked through the glass, the illustrations of the windows shining in the light. Wintermail recalled when she had first stepped through this room, admiring the ancient work of those images. Back then she hadn’t known their meaning, and indeed thought she was just delivering a simple sword for the Prince’s son.

Now these would be her halls, and her guards and her ponies to command. A very harrowing thought, one Wintermail knew she would not become used to for a long while.

Veroche her squire, dressed and groomed as well as he’d ever been, stood beside the heavy oaken doors before the throne room. Against him rested the giant black sword that had served her so well over this grand adventure. Ten feet away, Veroche bowed and presented Eónadin to his Queen. The alicorn retrieved her blade, fastening the decorated scabbard around her waist, the golden sun on its guard facing outwards. Her maidens ensured her gown was not wrinkled or otherwise cinched undesirably.

The girting of the Sword of Kings was essential—how could a Queen defend her realm and people if she couldn’t even defend herself?

Two more guards astride the doors opened their great iron fastenings, revealing the massive throng that had gathered for this momentous occasion. The sound of the doors closing boomed, and Wintermail surveyed the room. Ponies from across Equestria, of all stations and backgrounds, stood on either side of that long red carpet that stretched to the golden throne. She remembered vividly when she had first entered, seeing the great Prince in his gravitas and splendor commanding his court from that throne; her chair now.

The banners hanging from the columns remained: Canterlot’s argent field and violet star. But paramount to them, lording over the old banners as a parent does their child, hung the colors of Equestria itself. A field of azure, speckled with white stars, fittingly centered by a white alicorn wings spread. Over its chest was the silver moon superimposed over the golden sun.

A thousand eyes settled on Wintermail, but she stayed her nerves like death was the penalty. She advanced at a brisk but graceful pace. Her small entourage followed a respectable distance behind. Along her path familiar faces smiled and nodded, memories they’d shared and battles they’d fought brought to mind. Bretteur who had taught her the proper way to fight with a sword, Lieutenant—now Commander, Stormvane who’d served her well when Wintermail fought in the Guard. Captain Gendarmette and Commander Stonehewn, loyal officers of the realm, gave their silent regards.

Chancellor Logostus, always agitated but always on task. She even spotted that pegasus who had first visited her shop and made that fateful order that started all this. Greymane, so friendly and helpful, grinned as if to let Wintermail he’d tell his friends “I knew the Queen when she was my tenant!”

Veroche disappeared into this Canterlot crowd while Wintermail continued. Towards the front of the chamber stood the great lords and their vassals. The Princes and Princesses, first so hostile and suspicious, were now united in one room to witness something downright magical. The Little Kings dressed well and wore their regalia, but had resolved to yield to a larger Queen. The masters of those Free Cities looked at Wintermail while in their jewels and fine vestments, gaudiest of all the Dogaressa Marina of Manehattan.

And among them was Jasicus and even the Thestral Chieftess. A couple seasons of battle had won their approval with the rest of the lords, the fell deeds before redeemed with a victory won for all ponies and their kin.

A simple trek from one end of a room to another dragged on: so many familiar faces with memories attached. To her right Cardúnón, Rhílë and many of the alicorns stood. From when she’d first been shown the Downfallen to their fateful charge in battle, they’d all given her a place to belong. Long the object of her wonder, Wintermail had finally found her race and together they’d done beautiful things; perhaps in the future they’d do even more.

The green stallion smiled—Wintermail still had a problem with him, but she was grateful for all his help and companionship.

But whom she saw next stalled her heart for a moment. An idle comment she’d made during the preparations reached the ears of a messenger who informed the young minor son of Hillwick, settling as the new King of Poneva. He offered an invitation to the certain family of a pony who had passed nearly three years before. His surviving sister Wintergreen and her children and grandchildren had opted to make that difficult journey to Canterlot to witness this coronation.

Thirty-seven years ago a kind young earth pony named Evergreen had let a tall stranger into his home out of the cold. That clumsy mare worked and lived there for a time before departing for adventure in the wide world, and now she was going to be Queen. Wintergreen could scarcely believe it herself, but when she saw the alicorn’s face, she nearly broke into tears.

Wintermail for her part bit her tongue to maintain composure; breaking down in front of thousands of subjects would not be becoming for a ruler. She was thrilled though, and held no doubt that the spirit of her late friend Evergreen was right beside them.

The carpet picked upwards at the platform, potted flowers beside it. On the first terrace of the golden throne stood Henarion, Primrose and Eldowas. All that need be said had already been, so only glances remained. The orange alicorn received a special place beside the throne, truly the least Wintermail could do for her Uncle.

Little blue Eldowas wanted to jump up and give his giant aunt a big hug, but Primrose’s strong forehoof held him place; there’d be a time for that.

And on the second platform where the throne itself was mounted was a gilded and intricately carved table. Placed atop was a crown—no tiara or diadem that would be worn in a casual manner, but a full ornamental crown for the strictest of ceremony.

It was truly a work of art: a circlet of gilded steel set with precious stones all around. Its circumference was strung with two chains of pearls, one each on the top and bottom rims. Dressing its top were broad spires, inset with rubies and artistic embossing recalling the ancient alicorn artwork of old books. On its front and center was a medallion with the Kingdom’s symbol, decorated with white enamel and of course the respective precious metals for the sun and moon. Above the medallion was the effigy of the alicorn open sun-cross; the same symbol she wore around her neck since the day her father gave it to her.

Against the table was a scepter made of a good hardwood. Carved with abstract patterns along its length, the top was a knob of electrum. More precious stones surrounded the widest part, while the very top was decorated with golden alicorn wings, the very feathers sculpted from the metal!

Prince Petrafyrm made it clear that it is who wears a crown and scepter that is important, their qualities and virtues. All the same, with such regalia the Queen certainly would strike a majestic image.

Side opposite of the table stood Lady Stellara. Hers was the greatest honor; to stand beside her sister and usher in a new era of history. They had done so much together, as a team, as family, as sisters. Without Stellara, little Taby that Wintermail used to rock to sleep in her cradle, there would have been neither defeat of Discord nor victory at the Battle for Equestria. The realm could have but one Queen; Stellara still deserved to share in her sister’s glory.

Standing before her throne, Wintermail turned around. Now facing the crowd and all those who’d helped her along the great journey, the white mare felt the immense gravity of the event. Delbedasir on the platform below awaited the prompt. His liege mouthed the word “begin”; the Librarian cleared his throat and summoned a vocal spell.

“We have gathered here for the coronation of a new Queen, the first such in over nine centuries. In accordance with the ancient custom of Equestria, I present Nikóleva Maiëlindirnasí Solárindilbainuir, named Wintermail in the Equestrian tongue. She is of royal blood and the Lords of the Realm have given their assent. Do they still?” he asked to the ponies near the front.

“We do,” all the Princes and Princesses and Kings and City-Lords said in unison, exuding their imperious dignity.

“People of the Realm, whom your Sovereign is to lead and protect, do you assent to the crowning of this mare?”

“We do,” came the vociferous cascade of a thousand ponies. Tales traveled quickly, and Wintermail was now a hero of theirs, one of the Twin Goddesses that might someday live on in myth.

Delbedasir then turned to his kin the alicorns, “Paina nor-Alícor Osademë, lís wasdárocilíma céba dhiëna roniltinodë Ferenimu?(Children of Fallen Alícor, do you assent to this mare becoming Queen?)”

“Wasdárociléda,(We do,)” the Triple-Kin replied, Cardúnón’s voice loudest of all.

“Then,” the Librarian said, taking a small goblet from a nearby retainer, “Does Nikóleva accept this responsibility?”

Nikóleva, after so long wandering and wondering, stood as tall her massive height would let her. Wings splayed and eyes filled with resolved, she replied proudly, “She does.”

“May she recite her vows.”

They’d been rehearsed many times, deeply ingrained in her memory. Nikóleva had even caught herself dreaming about saying them. Her heart beat quickly but she would not stutter or stammer. “I, Nikóleva, shall wear this crown and wield this scepter not for my own glory but that of the Realm and its People. I shall maintain the Law, dispense justice according to the traditions of our kind, and defend our frontiers from those who threaten our peace. I shall recognize and protect the ancient rights of ponies. I shall punish those who break the law in accordance with their crimes.

“I shall wear the sword and smite our foes, and I shall carry the cup and treat our friends. I shall honor and reward those who are loyal and faithful to me and the realm, as I ask to be honored and rewarded by those who serve me.

“I swear to this all in view of Ponies and God.” The sacred vow was made, and woe betide the one who broke such a hallowed oath.

Delbedasir dipped his hoof in the goblet, coating it in a small measure of blessed water. He then gently dabbed some on each of Nikóleva’s cheeks, and again on her forehead. “With the assent of the people and the providence above, you are hereby renewed and reborn as Queen. Please kneel that you may be crowned.” She obliged, resting on her knees and craning her neck. Delbedasir sparked his red magic and took the crown from the table.

Her heart kept pounding, her breaths shallow and quick; this was it. Delbedasir spoke once more, “By the Grace of the People of the Realm and Almighty God,” he placed the great ornament on her head and let her rise full and high, “You are crowned Celestia, of the House of Sun Flare, Queen of Equestria and the Alicorns, Wardeness of the Sun, Princess of Day, Defendress of All Ponykind.”

The Queen took her scepter and finally sat down on the throne. Delbedasir stepped down to the floor, “Long may you reign!” And the rest of the room repeated the benediction. And then it erupted into cheers and stamps, of a kind she’d never heard before. Emotion welled up, and she could only slightly tilt her head towards Stellara. Her blue sister smiled and stamped with the rest, tears streaming down her face. She was so proud of her older sister, of all they had done and was so touched that she meant enough to the new Queen to be allowed a spot beside her.

Trumpets blared and the cheers intensified. Henarion wiped tears from his good eye and cradled his family close. Cardúnón and his sister nodded in approval, their hard work having paid off. The Lords grinned wide, Brynhilda of Horsava even bellowing like she was in battle! The energy in that one… Even the Librarian couldn’t help but give in to the mirth.

Perhaps even the ghost of that great Prince Petrafyrm wept tears of joy from the back, his spirit finally able to rest.

Soon the crowd would be dismissed and the festivities outside could begin. They’d go long into the night, and certainly the Queen would have to receive hundreds of ponies during. But she’d take it all in stride, like she’d her new reign: one day at a time.

Tomorrow would be the start of something glorious, and she was excited. The new Queen didn’t quite know where to start, but she was surrounded by many smart ponies would could give her some nice ideas and advice.

At that moment she was the Sovereign of a vast realm, subject to none but God and justice. This was a new era, not simply for Equestria and its ponies, but for herself too. Nikóleva and later Wintermail had done great things, but their purpose was fulfilled; their time over. Now Queen Celestia ruled.

The many trial and tribulations, hardships and difficult decisions of being Queen were yet to pass; right now today was a good day. Indeed it was for one pony in the crowd. Standing at the back near the corner of the room stood a pale blue alicorn with a green mane. It smiled and nodded, watching the new Queen. When the doors were finally opened, it quietly slipped out. The alicorn mused on what good a simple suggestion could do. It’s mission was complete and a good rest at home was in order.

*――――――――――S――――――――――*

No time to lose, then. While the Lords remained in the city, excited and enthused, Queen Celestia needed to strike while the iron was hot. Goodwill was a resource just the same as gold and land, and the white mare knew better than to let it slip away. A good splash, a strong first impression would do wonders. So the peers of the realm were called to her throne room.

Thus the Kingdom of Equestria was to be ordered, but in a slight and inoffensive manner—Celestia’s power was new and fragile; it needed to be cultivated and nurtured carefully. Six Princes, three Kings, and Four City-Lords stood around in a broad crescent, wondering what sort of schemes their new Queen had; she knew their suspicions, however small, were still real concerns to be maneuvered about.

Atop her golden throne, Celestia wore a more practical tiara, a gilded band with a center crest, decorated by an amethyst cut in into the six-pointed star. Gaze heavy and imperious, she found three young ponies and softened her countenance to a warm smile. “Cinnabar of Poneva, Caerulea of Fillydelphia, and White Bough of Detrot; come forward.”

Three unicorns answered. One was a small colt, cinnamon coat and cherry mane—very similar to his father. This was the young Cinnabar, now King of Poneva. Second a filly came, who unlike her father Prince Rufus’ hot colors wore a cool medium blue coat and purple mane. She was this Caerulea of the westernmost Princedom Fillydelphia. And finally White Bough, Wealthford’s younger brother who was just like him in every way except being clean-shaven and not so round.

Celestia waited a time before speaking, “My deepest condolences; your fathers and brother were some of the most noble and bravest ponies I’ve met. Eternal glory is theirs.” Cinnabar, the youngest, was visibly upset and wiping his eyes. Celestia’ heart felt pierce by a dagger, but she continued, “As Queen, it is my duty to appoint officers to govern the lands of the realm. But I’ve no intention of depriving grieving ponies of their birthrights.”

She motioned to Chancellor Logostus, now turned from managing a single Princedom to a whole kingdom. He levitated up three scrolls, which Celestia overtook. One was given to each of the three, “These are Royal Writs formally recognizing your rights to your respective thrones. As Queen I grant my blessing for all of your rules, and I pledge myself as your liege to aid should any claimants seek to overthrow you. A stern hope that such circumstances do not arise.”

The young new rulers bowed and returned to the line of Lords. Celestia cocked a very slight grin; she was proud of herself, for she had encouraged the loyalty of three small and easily-impressed ponies. Strategically important, too: one ruled a northern bulwark, the very boundary of Equestria proper, another a western outpost and a wide reach of fertile farmland, and the third a wealthy and important center for manufacture and transport. Well then.

Next Celestia found little Lord Vale standing precociously in a silk vest, small diadem, and red cloak. His mother Coruscina stood behind him. The Queen gently summoned the colt forward. “Your Majesty,” he said with his high-pitched voice and bowed in the most adorable fashion.

Celestia giggled, but then restored her regality, “Lord Vale, Princess-Mother Coruscina, the Royal Prerogative has assumed direct rulership of Canterlot and its attached lands; the Crown thanks you graciously for this. But as with our friends beyond, I’ve no desire to take your dignity or rights. I cannot return Canterlot, yet I offer the princedom of Trottingham to Lord Vale. And of course his mother has my blessing as Regent until he should come of age.

“Out of respect for your heritage and love for your father, I allow you, Lord Vale, to retain the title of Prince of Canterlot in addition to that of Trottingham.” The colt seemed stunned, but soon he grew a smile as wide as his entire head. He then stood tall and proud, trying to mimic the poses numerous statues around the castle made.

Both the new Prince and his mother bowed. Celestia then narrowed her eyes, “Although no sign of Noblesse Oblige has been found since he fled the battle last year, it can be assured that his former realm is still full with loyalist elements. You may settle into the city of Trottingham, but many further boroughs and counties will certainly give trouble. I myself will lead forces to help you pacify the region should you request my aid.”

“Peter would have been most pleased,” Coruscina said, causing the Queen to feel a twinge of bittersweetness. “And we may visit anytime?”

Celestia couldn’t hold back a light chuckle, “Of course, my Friend. Everypony in my realm is welcome to my court.”

After a final bow Prince Vale and Coruscina received a formal diploma and withdrew to their space with the others. And just like that, what had historically been the second-most powerful state in Equestria was conferred to a righteous and loyal party.

The Queen then stood, scepter beside her. She knocked it once, “I’ve no more honors or titles to grant to any existing vassal of the Crown, but I do wish to announce my new Law of Guarantee.” A few hushed whispers and groans came from the lords. Princesses Brynhilda and Nephele were the most suspicious. “Each of your estates has their own histories, traditions, customs, and laws. I will not, nor do I desire to, undo centuries of these cultures with the stroke of a pen. Indeed, I shall have my officers draft and copy a formal proclamation that your historic rights to judgement and lawmaking in your own lands be respected and upheld by my authority.”

Many of the Lords began to nod in approval, but Celestia reaffirmed herself, “However, as one realm we must all have our common ends. The pursuit of justice and prosperity are my main concerns, and I will create a forum for the establishment of common law. I ask all my vassals that they might attend a deliberative assembly, that our grievances and disputes can be resolved without the bloody business of war.”

Princess Nephele of Cloudsdale seemed to appreciate this idea very much, as did the City-Lords, always wary of their hungry neighbors. “The matters of taxes and tariffs are daunting and frankly fire up passions.” Celestia allowed the room the chance to softly laugh. “I hope our first such session can resolve some of these. I intend to hold these deliberations yearly or thereabouts. I do not wish to usurp your rights or offend your honor, and I hope very much this counsel can keep us civilized and productive, for the realm and its people.”

“Hear!” cried some of the Lords.

“Then you are all dismissed. Return to your homes as you like; may we enjoy this new peace and may it be long-lasting and bountiful!” And she knocked her scepter again. As the many Lords began to shuffle out, Celestia glanced at Lady Stellara, standing just beside the throne. The elder sister made a coy grin while the younger just rolled her eyes and smirked.

Several ponies remained in the throne room, and Celestia called two of them forward. Jasicus of the Mustangs and Shosanna of the Thestrals were ready. Now was the moment their efforts in helping the Equestrians would at last pay off, and all the hardships their kinds had faced would amount to something.

“Lord Chesikkeshi and Lady Xshutsanenah,” Celestia spoke. The two grew looks of mild shock; their names were often too strange and difficult for Easterners to pronounce correctly, and they were touched that the Queen had made the effort to do so. “Our bargain was struck when you turned from the Horde. The War is finished; your end was given, and now I give mine. There are lands between the states of Mareposa and Fillydelphia that are sparsely inhabited. They are filled with marshes and forests, and were ravaged during the War. If they cultivate the land and raise warriors for the crown, it shall be granted to the Prairiefolk. To their chieftain I then grant the title ‘Prince of the Mustangs’.”

After so long, after the stories his father told him and the vile deal struck with that lying serpent Discord, this beautiful white Queen at last gave him the one thing he always wanted. The mustangs now had a new home, a new place to belong. “A thousand blessings to you, my Liege,” he bowed, half-tempted to run and kiss her hooves. “I shall remove my people there at first light!”

The Queen smiled warmly back. “And to the Mountainfolk,” she began, causing the Thestral Chieftess to excitedly hover up into the air, “There is a broad mountainous plateau in the northern space of Canterlot’s lands. It is filled with caves and valleys, clear streams and good timber. And few ponies live in it. There I decree shall be where the bat-ponies settle, and you shall be ‘Princess of the Thestrals.”

Princess Shosanna grinned wide, her fangs bared for the world the see. She fled closer and performed a supreme gesture of thestral trust and friendship: she presented her head before the Queen. It was an odd custom, but thestrals held their persons as sacred and permitted only a select few to touch them. Celestia gently placed her forehoof on the mare’s dark mane, withdrawing once she made a short stroke. She wanted to giggle but maintained composure.

These two enemies-turned-friends received their diplomas and were escorted out, both eager to relocate to their new homes. And a reputation for sparing and rewarding enemies who surrendered and helped would carry Celestia far.

There was still a bit more to do, but Celestia was enjoying it so far. It was actually a little fun! “Cardúnón,” she announced. The green stallion perked up and left the company of his sister to answer his Queen’s call. “Despite our disagreements, your efforts in uniting our scattered people have been most appreciated. Some contend that the alicorn charge won that battle,” Celestia then glanced at Stellara, who had an eyebrow raised, “The historians will be debating it for centuries I’m sure, but nonetheless you command respect amongst our kin, and you have mine.”

Logostus was gestured to deliver another diploma. “Your dream was to see the alicorns grow and prosper once again. Very well; go north.” Cardúnón seemed puzzled; he opened the scroll. It was written in alicorn, gracefully and beautifully in the Queen’s own. He then looked back at her in astonishment. “You are now the Marquis of the North, my sworn defender of that frontier. Garrison it; let none pass our borders. Who better to protect us than the Triple-Kin of old?” The stallion smiled and craned his neck. Celestia resumed her regal gaze, “What’s more, since I am compelled to remain here in the Southlands for much of my time, I cannot often be present to rule our people. I am their Queen, but it would do to have a royal representative. Therefore you are also created my Viceroy of the Alicorns. And as a show of thanks for all you’ve done for myself and my sister, you and Rhílë are allowed to wear the Title of Prince and Princess of Equestria.”

The lavender mare trotted beside her brother and joined him in his bow. “We are very gracious, Your Majesty,” she confessed through a wavering voice. The siblings shared a proud and joyful look.

Cardúnón felt a deep sense of mirth, for at last what he longed for over the past decades came to pass. “I will rebuild the cities and the roads, restore the farms and pastures, and not let a single foe set foot upon your March!”

The Queen enjoyed the enthusiasm and gave with a wide smile. She nodded, “I cannot wait to see it!”

As the two siblings started discussing all their plans to beautify the edge of the Kingdom, Celestia faced her own sister. “Taberanyn, if you would please come before the throne,” she motioned forward with a hoof. Lady Stellara had no prior knowledge of this—would she be getting an honor? Should she be excited, or nervous? She settled on both.

Stellara stepped down the throne platforms and stood before the Queen, sword and axe girt at her waist. She already knew she’d inevitably serve as her sister’s Marshal, so what else did Celestia want? Standing all this time in the back, tall but very quiet, was Henarion. While Primrose and his son enjoyed their time in the city, the old alicorn thought he’d watch his niece’s first true day of court. Now it had become very interesting.

Small beads of sweat began to drip down Stellara’s temple; it had suddenly become very hot. “Taberanyn, my Sister, I could fill a book with all your qualities, all your deeds. Your patience, your love, your loyalty, your kindness…you were the other half in this grand adventure.” Celestia, for the first time, had to pause while speaking to maintain herself, “You are the other half of our triumph. You deserve this every bit as I do.”

Stellara wiped a tear, silently cursing at herself for such a breach of protocol. The Chancellor levitated up another one of those scrolls. “You, Taberanyn, shall therefore be assigned your proper titles: Wardeness of the Moon and Princess of Night. Will you also accept my offering to you of Marshal of Equestria? I want you to command my forces—you’d be much better at it than me.”

The blue mare trembled, and wanted to weep in joy. Taking in a deep breath, she finally answered “I do, Your Majesty.” Those dark feelings she had while lying awake in bed, that the older, prettier, stronger sister would overshadow her, vanished—of course Nikóleva would never forget!

“I want you to be my closest confidant, my most trusted friend, my most honest adviser, and my fiercest warrior.” Celestia leaned back and let Stellara speak her peace.

The younger alicorn thought, and then grew coy again, “Will I get my own castle?”

Celestia’s eyes were heavy, and for moment Stellara was afraid that she’d offended. But then the white mare’s face softened and she chuckled. Then she burst into a fit of laughter. It was contagious, and soon Stellara joined. Celestia curled her forehoof towards her, and Stellara stepped up the terraces. Older embraced younger, and the Queen kissed Stellara on the cheek. “Every princess gets a castle! We’ll have to meet with the architects to choose a suitable location.”

Stellara wondered where that would be. She was fond of that dark wood, the...Everfree! Would it allow her to build a castle there? She wondered. When the blue alicorn broke away, she got another idea. “Am I allowed my own regnal name, too? Like you, I want to evoke something different now.”

“Did you have any candidates?”

Stellara thought about herself, and the powers she had, her role and position in this new realm. She wanted something short, yet beautiful, easy to remember but still said a good bit. She then glanced at a nearby banner of the Kingdom and studied its symbolism. “Yes…yes! Luna! Call me Luna!”

And so Stellara Nightwrath stepped up that throne, and Princess Luna stepped down. She immediately found Cardúnón. She beamed towards him, and maybe later when she could have some leisure they’d go out into the garden and enjoy some time together. Then she realized with them both being the rank of Prince, a prospective marriage between them would be acceptable. Oh Luna figured she'd endure no shortage of torment from her sister for that! Foal steps, now.

Chancellor Logostus held one final scroll. Celestia called Henarion, her final recipient of honors for today. The stallion was smart enough to discern this. He answered with his same grim expression. “Uncle, you deserve much more that what I can give you. I could grant you land, money, warriors—but I know you better. You’re a simple stallion who grew up with little and wants for little. In fact I’m sure you have everything you do want.” Celestia paused, studying his face; it didn’t change much.

“But allow me at least to recognize you. None of this would have happened without you.” He moved to interrupt but the Queen did not stop, “I’ve said it before; it’s true. You raised us, you protected us, you taught us. You put up with our bad days and helped us through our worst. Even…when I left you still kept my sister safe. And even when you were long released from this duty, when you had your own family to care for, you still braved the treacherous journey west. You fought against Discord, you fought against dragons and the like, and you rose us up when we doubted ourselves.

“You never faltered nor reneged on your vows. You are as unshaking as a rock, and the world owes you a debt.” Celestia rose from her throne and stepped down to the floor. She met her uncle face to face, “I want to make you a Prince of Equestria.”

Henarion chuckled, “I ain’t gotta wear a crown, do I?”

Celestia brought him close, “Maybe for ceremonies.” She released him and regained her majestas, “Also, as you are a descendant of its last incarnation, I think it only proper that you be given a place on my new Royal Guard.”

But Henarion’s face fell and he stirred, “I’m a bit old for that, ain’t I? I’d actually just like to go back to my farm—haven’t had a chance for a while.”

Celestia was disappointed, but smiled in understanding, “Certainly. Even a ceremonial position? You’d only have to come see me every so often.”

“Well…I was planning on doing that anyway so, why not?” He then gently bowed, “Thank you, Nikól. But now I’m going to have to explain why I am a Prince but Eldowas can’t be a knight!”

“Tell him when he can fly I’ll see what I can do.” The two hugged a second time, and then Henarion returned to the middle of the chamber.

So that was finished. Celestia now had to meet with her ministers about whatever else needed sorting out. But she saw the longing face on “Princess Luna”; she seemed agitated, and the white alicorn couldn’t suppress a giggle. “Lovely day, isn’t it? Think I did all right with the Sun, hm?”

“A good breeze, one perfect for a nice flight.” Luna answered.

Celestia made the connection pretty easily, “Go. You’re dismissed for the rest of the day. Have fun with…him.”

Luna’s face lit up, “We might go for a nice meal; would the Queen like to join?”

“The Queen is busy. It’s fine; go.”

That was all the permission she needed. Luna practically leapt from her spot and glided over to Cardúnón. The pair were soon joined by Rhílë and Henarion, all walking out to spend some time in a pretty summer day. Maybe they’d get one of those icy confections made from snow, or enjoy a nice dip in the cool river in the valley below. It all seemed so inviting.

Celestia grinned until the oak doors slammed shut. Then she returned to her throne, somewhat disappointed she couldn’t join. But, there was work to be done, over nine centuries’ worth. Before some of her ministers entered with papers and summons and other matters of state, she spared a final look out the window. The clear blue sky and warm sunshine filled her with hope and determination.

The future was bright and full of promise. The reign of Celestia would by her will be remembered for peace, justice, and plenty. High hopes indeed, but her fire burned strong and she was ready. Time to get to work.

*――――――――――S――――――――――*

“And that, my dear Twilight, is how Equestria was truly made. Honestly, the nonsense some ponies spout…” Celestia groaned, stirring in some sugar into her teacup before removing the spoon.

Twilight giggled as she wrote out the final bits in her book. The inked pages had grown very thick by now; nearly half the tome. But Twilight was nothing if not thorough, and Princess Celestia certainly enjoyed painting a vivid picture of her life. But as she let the ink dry, Twilight Sparkle had a puzzling thought: Princess Celestia, right? That’s how she’d been referred to for the violet mare’s entire life, and surely before.

“’Queen’, correct?” Twilight asked. Celestia raised an eyebrow and sipped her tea. “You were crowned Queen of Equestria. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you called that. Care to explain?” Twilight had crossed her forelegs for effect.

“Oh yes, that!” Celestia brought a hoof to her chin, “Let me see…if I remember, a famous Equestrian jurist by the name of Habeas Corpus summed it up rather nicely. ‘The Monarchy of Equestria is ruled by Celestia, who is Queen by title, Princess by habit, and Empress by dignity.’”

“And what motivated that choice?” Twilight narrowed her eyes at her mentor, “Were you trying to seem younger?”

The two then shared laugh. “No, not at all!” confessed Celestia, whose face then darkened just the slightest bit, “It was…a courtesy.”

“What do you mean? Is there a story attached!?” the purple alicorn blurted out, practically bounding up and down like a filly.

“There is…but haven’t you had enough stories? We’ve reached the end, Twilight.” Celestia frowned.

“’End’? No! There is still so much unresolved! Such as what became of all your old friends, and how did you centralize your kingdom? And what happened to Sombra after he escaped!” Twilight’s enthusiasm calmed down, “And how…Nightmare Moon came to be.”

A dull ache snared Celestia’s heart, but she held herself steady and stoic, “How far do you want me to go? I could tell you my life up until yesterday morning.”

“Not that far, Princess. But I know the history after Nightmare Moon was banished; if you want…I’d like to hear it up until that point.”

Celestia’s face then grew very dark, but with no hint of anger or malice. She turned to the fire and brought her drink forward with magic. The crackling, rising orange flames gave her comfort, a small warmth against an encroaching chill. “Very well.” Before Twilight could grin and become excited for more stories, Celestia’s aura stilled her student, “But I should like you to heed this warning; what you wish to hear is not nearly so long or complex as what I told you earlier." Twilight seemed almost disappointed. "It is, however, more difficult for me to recount. Do not shy from knowledge because it may frighten you, but also be aware of the dark truths in our world.”

Celestia turned back to Twilight, who seemed mildly perturbed. “Yes, Princess. But I endeavored to record your life, and that will not be complete until you finish your story.”

The white alicorn was proud of her Most Faithful Student’s mettle and determination. “All right. But there are things I wish to show you, so you can understand. So therefore I think we’ll be taking a…what do they call them—yes, a field trip.”

Twilight yawned and closed her book and gathered her things, “I cannot wait, Princess. That best-seller is closer and closer each day!”

Celestia let out a playful groan and rolled her eyes. “Eat a good breakfast; I want to leave no later than eight o’clock.”

Twilight, all packed up, approached her mentor and gently nuzzled into her, to which Celestia reciprocated. Then the violet alicorn left the “Queen’s” chamber and navigated by the dimly-lit corridors back to her guest room.

She was a sweet and gentle mare, with all her flaws and quirks yes, but good all the same. Twilight was also thirsty for learning, and no matter what would have agreed to hear a good story, regardless of what dark and difficult things it told. Celestia’s stiffened her lip; it was important that both share in the tale—Celestia had borne it alone for too long now.

The alicorn shook her head; Twilight was a strong pony, she’d do fine.

A nagging presence beat at Celestia. It had been for a while, and she finally decided to do something about it. “You can come out now,” she called.

A flash of blue magic appeared beside Celestia in her room, and soon a shorter, much bluer mare stood. The elder sister smirked, “You know you can’t hide from me. Your aura is as bright as your Moon.”

But Princess Luna wasn’t here for banter, “Are you certain you wish to go through with this? I know Twilight is relentless when she has her interest piqued, but…doubtlessly you would only darken her world…”

Celestia watched her sister’s face, her own twisted in a bittersweet grin. “Do you remember what Uncle once said? ‘I ain’t never heard a truth that was kind’,” the elder said, trying her best to imitate the rough northern accent of the long-deceased Henarion.

Luna giggled before returning to her brood, “Most days I do. How will you paint your retelling? Will I be the villain?” Luna then thought more and frowned, “Don’t make yourself the villain.”

The Queen sighed heavy, “I shall tell the truth, and posterity will decide.” Celestia brought a hoof under her sister’s chin, “But why worry about that now? Perhaps a snack is in order?”

The two began channeling magic into their horns, readying for a teleport. “I have been feeling a bit famished. A break from court might serve me well,” confessed Luna.

“Do you have a preference?”

“Hmm…you know, I have been interested in trying what they call a ‘cheesecake’.”

Princess Celestia immediately liked the suggestion, “I know just the place!” And in a flash of blue and yellow the Royal Sisters vanished to some poor shop that would have to satisfy the hunger of two very large fully-grown alicorns.

But it’d be a nice comfort before the morning came. Then, Celestia would once again be brought to terms with her long life. Winning and building a kingdom had proven to be a task she enjoyed and became rather adept at. It was the little things, as Discord once cruelly said, that had been Celestia’s bane.

The little ways a pony can hurt another.

But that was for tomorrow to worry about. Celestia sighed and decided to lay back and enjoy the night with her dearest sister. Yes…it would do her some good to not stress the future for a moment; and perhaps a second helping would so as well.

End of "The Twin Goddesses"

Comments

[JMP]

“’End’? No! There is still so much unresolved! Such as what became of all your old friends, and how did you centralize your kingdom? And what happened to Sombra after he escaped!” Twilight’s enthusiasm calmed down, “And how…Nightmare Moon came to be.”

Twilight sums it up nicely; this is not an end, only a new beginning. Dame Wintermail has been crowned Queen Celestia, and her sister Lady Stellara given the title of Princess Luna. One chapter ends, and a new one begins. Celestia has preserved all the Princes, Kings, and Lords' right to rule their territories and their titles, but it doesn't stay like that forever. Her reign may begin in Canterlot, but the castle in the Everfree is one of Two Sisters.

“Very well.” Before Twilight could grin and become excited for more stories, Celestia’s aura stilled her student, “But I should like you to heed this warning; what you wish to hear is not nearly so long or complex as what I told you earlier."

I feel like this is also the author's way of setting our own expectations for what's to come.

[Q07]

My heart was beating hard during that coronation. That was some A+ stuff right there! I'm very proud of the way Celestia handled her first royal actions. It's like she was born to do this or something. I wonder if Twilight will be able to handle all the unpleasant things she's about to learn? I can't wait to find out everything else!

Oh, and this right here...

Call me Luna

I see you, and I approve.

[Alaxsxaq]

9494787
Just in time for Passover!

[Alaxsxaq]

9495605
I guess it's my little way of saying "I know it's long don't worry there is an end in sight."

[Alaxsxaq]

9495790
Twilight'll be fiiiiiine.
Probably.

[JMP]

9495815
I'm not too worried. The journey so far has been absolutely amazing

[gakposter]

I was just rereading when this updated!

[Alaxsxaq]

9496794
I've been a little quicker on the draw lately.

[gakposter]

9498153
I’ve noticed woot

[Alondro]

“I swear to this all in view of Ponies and God.”

And Alondro, from his heavenly Troll Throne, hears this vow!

[Alondro]

9495817 And so it's revealed that Luna murdered all the alicorns! Even the younglings!

"You called them... younglings..."

Celestia ermed, "Well it's a lot better than saying 'killed children' in a show for children, isn't it?"

Twilight flatly replied, "It's totally lame."

Celestia bowed her head, "It totally is."

Twilight hmms, "So, we now forgive Luna for all the murders?"

Celestia nods, "Who hasn't committed a little genocide now and then? I slaughtered all those annoying Flutterponies, ya know?"

Queen Chrysalis cackles in the darkness, "Not all, not all. Some of us.. changed!"

DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU-*deep breath*-UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNN!!

[Alaxsxaq]

9500027
My God, it all makes sense now!

[Alondro]

9502713
I have all the cents... (hoards zillions of pennies)

[FiredragonX]

Oh boy I can’t wait for the next story!

[Alaxsxaq]

9503698
I guess I got work to do, huh?

[FiredragonX]

9504448
Is this going to be last act of the story?

[Alaxsxaq]

9504774
Not quite but they are going to be much shorter than the previous one.

[FiredragonX]

9505419
Cool! Can’t wait to see where you go from here.

[Mime Slayer]

Hey Bossman, you still here?

[Alaxsxaq]

10210800
Hm? Oh yeah, I should probably get to work, huh?

[gakposter]

Oof. Come back for a reread only to find a cancellation.

[Protopony350]

Even though it'll never be finished, this was still one of the best pieces of fiction I've ever read.