• Published 17th Sep 2013
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Celestia Sleeps In with a Vengeance - Admiral Biscuit

Celestia is so tired, she sleeps through her alarm.

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In Which Celestia Continues To Sleep

Celestia Sleeps In with a Vengeance
In Which Celestia Continues To Sleep
Admiral Biscuit

With an audible pop, Her Royal Lunar Highness Princess Luna returned to Ponyville. She arrived just above the very center of the greensward that faced the mayoral tower.

She did not notice the scorched spot in the neatly-mowed grass, nor would she have cared if she had. She was on a mission, and she would not be baulked by the foliage underhoof. Turning her head to orient herself, she stomped to her destination.

Luna had—over the course of months of night court—memorized the maps of every inch of Equestria. It was all well and good to visit ponies in their dreams, but that task was made much easier when she knew where they lived. She was hoping that one day they’d invent a long-distance communications device which linked to every home in Equestria, and she could just monitor it from a secret room in the basement of the castle—while she denied its existence—but so far the earth pony inventors had failed her. Even a few very pointed dreams had borne no fruit; they’d invented record players, but what good did those do?

It was no difficulty for her to navigate the darkened streets of Ponyville; after all, the night was her domain. She paid no heed to the ponies who ran for the safety of the bar as she passed. None of them were her quarry.

Twilight watched as a burst of dragonfire hit the wall beside her. In the moment before another came, she leapt across the alleyway and through the front door of a Rarity’s Crab Shack. She yanked a metal serving tray off the wastebasket and used it to deflect another blast, which exploded over the lobster tank. Dozens of crustaceans scurried to terrible freedom.

She leapt over the serving-counter and into the kitchen, making for the trot-up window. With the front of the store now aflame, there was no other escape. Unconsciously, her ear swiveled, picking up a faint scream off in the distance. She’s still alive. That’s good.

The dragon gave a roar of frustration, and she waited. One more burst of flame came down the narrow alleyway, and she yanked the tail of her cloak into the recess just in time, then she was galloping forwards, faster than the dragon could react. It came down to a mare-on-drake confrontation; it always did. The wide brim of her hat flopped down, briefly cutting off her line of sight, but that really didn’t matter. She knew where the dragon was.

“Help me!” The shrill scream set Twilight’s fur on end in an involuntary piloerection. She would help; all she needed to do was corner the dragon, and then. . . .

Another gout of flame set her hat afire. Nonchalantly, she flung it aside, frisbeeing it towards a lake. Horn now revealed, she channeled all her power towards the dragon, slamming him into the ground.

“Your flames are no match for my magical powers, it would seem,” she gloated as the dragon writhed on the ground below her.

“Perhaps not, Twilight Sparkle,” he hissed, rolling to face her. “Yet I have still won.”

She stood on her hind hooves and crossed her forelegs over her well-muscled barrel. “Explain.”

“I have hidden your true love in a place where you shall not find her.” The drake smirked at her. “If you kill me—and I don’t believe you will—you’ll never know where she is.”

“Oh, but I will. You have already given yourself away.” Twilight looked smugly back. “It was a simple matter of watching your attacks, and using simple logic.” Five minutes later, with the dragon idly tapping a claw on the ground, she finished her monologue. “. . . . therefore it is provable and demonstrable that you have placed her in the cupola of the Ponyville town hall.”

“Perhaps I did,” the dragon stated, snapping his fingers. “Yet, with the anti-magic field I have placed around it, you are powerless to rescue her.”

“Your confidence is misplaced, fool!” Twilight yanked off her mask and tore off her skintight garb, revealing her majestic wings. “I have these now!” She bucked him hard in the muzzle, launching herself up, up, up. Two powerful wingbeats later she was at the locked window. She lasered it open with her horn and stepped across the smouldering windowframe.

“Save me,” cried the mare in the room again.

“I’m here for your, my love!” Twilight lifted the mare in her hooves, leapt out the window and gently soared to the ground, landing in the center of a field of roses which was mysteriously untouched in the rampage.

“You’re my hero, Twilight Sparkle! I’d do anything to thank you. Anything at all.”

A small smile played across the youngest alicorn’s lips. “I cannot deny a lady her wishes.” She tore off her costume again, pulling the pink mare close. She smelled just like bubblegum. “Kiss me. Kiss me so that the gods themselves know of our love.”


“Oh, say my name baby! Say my name!”


Twilight’s head jerked up in surprise, her eyes flying open. There, looming over her bed were two angry blue eyes, and those eyes were attached to an alicorn that looked miffed and vaguely disturbed. It was awkward enough to be awakened by a cock; the wrathful visage of the Princess of the Night was even worse.

“Mmh, sorry Luna. I was having the most wonderful dream . . . I was—”

“Speak not of thy dream. We didst see more than enough; we desirest not to re-live it.” She frowned. “Is this the manner in which you greet ponies who have come to your quarters?”

“Oh, sorry.” Twilight sheepishly reached up and wiped some saliva off her chin. “I, um . . . when I sleep, I kind of . . . drool. A lot.”

“We do not speak of your salivary glands, which seem to be functioning well for a mare of your age. We refer to your wings.”

“Hmm?” Twilight tilted her head back at her stiff wings. “They’re always like that when I get up. It makes going to the bathroom so difficult, I have to kind of twist to get through the door and then—”

“WE COMMAND THAT THOU SPEAKEST NO MORE!” Lowering her voice slightly in deference to everypony else in Ponyville, Luna continued. “Stow thine wings properly before you make more of a mockery of thine position.”

“Um . . . it’s like they’ve got a mind of their own.” Twilight grunted with effort, attempting to coax her recalcitrant wings back into their proper position. “I haven’t really gotten used to them yet.” She managed to get one up against her bedframe and began pushing against it. “It just won’t stay down. You know, usually when I’m in the shower, they kind of tuck themselves in. Well, they go limp a little before that, but . . . Princess?”

Twilight looked around her empty bedroom curiously. The Princess of the Night was nowhere to be found. Now I wonder where she has— Twilight’s thoughts were cruelly interrupted by a blast of icy water. As she scrabbled backwards against the relentless onslaught, she dimly noted that the gleaming brass spout that was the source of the flow appeared to be a Knobs and Nozzles brand Nº 5 fire-hose nozzle, for attachment thereto.

“Tis truly a well-constructed hose thou dost have,” Luna muttered around a mouthful of the same hose. “We hath never seen its equal.”

“It’s the premium version,” Twilight shouted over the deluge. “Guaranteed not to leak unless immersed in magma. It resists cuts from glass, gems, sharp rocks, and most importantly, paper.”

Luna hoofed the valve closed and spit the hose out of her mouth. “Thy wings art stowed properly now. Dry thyself off and meet us in the common room. We art in need of thy magic.”

“There’s a box of Cinnabonbons in the kitchen,” Twilight offered. “Help yourself to a couple.”

Twilight mentally added “Have Spike dry bedroom” to her list of things to do today. She bumped her muzzle on the bathroom door. It was closed.

“Spike? Are you in there?”

“Taking a bath. I’m going to Rarity’s this morning.” She heard splashing and bubbles popping. “I got up early, I think. The sun isn’t up yet, anyway. So I’m taking a bath.”

“Well, hurry up. I’ve got to piss like a racehorse.”

A voice from below shouted up accusingly. “We heard that!”

Twilight shifted around on her hooves in front of the door. She began chewing her lower lip as a thin film of sweat broke out on her forehead. Finally, she could wait no more. “I’ll just pop in for a moment.”

Spike looked up in alarm as she appeared in the bathroom. “Can’t you just . . . oh Celestia, why? I can’t . . . blurb . . . it sounds even louder underwater! How is that possible?”

“Ten cups of tea. Spike, did you know that tea is a diuretic? Well, at least the caffeine in tea is—are you paying attention? I—Spike, why are you rubbing soap in your eyes? Won’t that hurt?

“Oh, be mature about this. You know that everypony pees. Haven’t you ever heard Rarity? She tries to hold it as long as she can, but that’s not healthy. It can cause incontinence. If the . . . Spike? You have to breathe, Spike. Pull your head up out of the water. Don’t make me come over there.”

* * *

Twilight finally stepped into the central room of the treebrary. Luna was intently studying a thin book on topiaries in Las Pegasus. It was a very slender volume, since the intended focal point of the Ponyazzo had promptly fallen through the clouds and smashed to its destruction on the desert floor far below. Nevertheless, the photographer had managed to get a remarkable series of pictures—and the uprushing wind had lent a certain je ne sais quoi to the shrub. A focal point in the stark blue sky, a foliage in flight, a monument to the inevitable deconstruction of the great pony works. One could even wax philosophical about it, if one were so inclined.

“We must hie to Canterlot,” Luna stated bluntly, snapping the book shut.

“Oh!” Twilight’s eyes began darting around the room. “Just let me get my bags. I’ll need my crown and hoofie-boots, too. And that weird necklace yoke thing. It’s up in my room. Is this going to be a formal visit? I—” She stopped short as a telekenetic force grabbed her tail.

“There is no time to waste. Thou needst take nothing. Thou art fine as thou art.”

Twilight looked dubiously at her still-dripping coat. “Are you sure? Because—”


“—and if, oh look, here we are.” Twilight gazed around the castle courtyard. It was quite calm and peaceful. There were a few night sentries patrolling the wall, and over on the east side of the castle she could see some of Luna’s batponies fluttering around a brightly illuminated window. Occasionally one would bump his muzzle into the glass, shake his head, and flit off towards another lighted window.

“Look to the sky, Twilight Sparkle, and tell us what thou seest not.”

The hair on Twilight’s back stood straight up. It’s a test! And I didn’t study my sky charts! Think, think . . . what order does Luna like to have her constellations named? Alphebetical or by position in the sky? She’s staring at me. “Um, I see Marigold the Unicorn over there . . . and Orion’s kind of below the horizon, but it should be right over there. The Horsehead Nebula is—”

“We shall alight upon our sister’s balcony, Twilight Sparkle. Thou must be silent. Follow us.” She took flight with a mighty flap of her wings. With a little trepidation, Twilight followed. She’d been taking flying lessons with Rainbow Dash ever since she’d gotten her new wings, but unfortunately the pegasus had been more interested in stunt flying than takeoffs.

As she closed in on the balcony, Twilight forced herself to remember what Rainbow had said. Grit your teeth. You don’t want to bite your tongue when you land. When the ground’s close, flare your wings. Right before you hit, hold your forehooves out in front of yourself. And make sure to close your eyes, or you’ll get dirt and stuff in them. She landed just like Rainbow had suggested, skidding across the balcony to stop in an undignified heap when the railing caught her. She was going to have to remember to get Rainbow to teach her how to make a non-crash landing one of these days.

Luna had watched her landing with the same open-mouth admiration that fans of the beleaguered Detrot hoofball team favored during the teams 0-16 season. It had been a EHL record which had lead to talks of banishing the entire team to the moon—although it was widely believed that they would somehow screw that up, too, perhaps landing on a different heavenly body entirely.

Wordlessly, Luna held the giant Prench doors open, nodding her head for Twilight to enter.

A few minutes later, Twilight re-emerged. “So.”


“She’s so. . . .”


“She had her hooves wrapped around a pillow like it was a foal.”


“And she was humming in her sleep.

“So now thou dost see our problem.”

Twilight bit her lip. “Does . . . if she . . . wait. So—all this time my clock was right?”

“Yes, we would imagine it was.”

“And my egg timer, too?”

“We suppose that it would also be accurate.”

“And the Ponyville clock?”

“Yes, Twilight Sparkle, we believe that your timepieces would continue to be accurate. Except for sundials, of course.”


Luna looked at her curiously.

“What is time, exactly? My alarm clock says that it’s—well, I don’t know what it says, since it’s not here. But imagine that it says it’s 9 am. And the Ponyville clock says the same thing. The sundial in the market square says nothing, and Big Mac’s cock hasn’t risen yet. Who are we to say what time it is?”

“We are a princess of Equestria. Nopony save Celestia has more power than us. Oh, and we and Cadance also have more power than you.” Luna looked at the dark sky. “Selene is tired, and she must get her rest. Therefore, as difficult as it may be, we must do our princessly duties. The sun must be raised.”

“Oh.” Twilight looked back at the Prench doors. “Surely she deserves a little rest. Equestria won’t fall apart in a day—”

“Neigh, Twilight, we must raise the sun ourselves.” Luna floated a pan-holder over to Twilight. “We found these in the kitchen. We understand that the sun is hot, so we must be cautious to avoid burns. Slide this over your horn.”

Author's Note:

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