Chapter 14: Five!? Well Now That’s Just Royalty
Sweetie Belle was on the edge of her seat. Quite literally, she was dangling off the edge, her tiny hooves kicking aimlessly through the air whilst she stared up into her reflection. An even tinier hoof mirror floated in her green aura, reflecting the dazzling sparkles of her freshly acquired golden tiara, and her brand spanking new, not at all cardboard in any way, princess wings™.
The royal wing bearer had assured her she would grow into them eventually. However, until then, they remained firmly tucked at her sides where they wouldn’t cause any untold damage. The image of the royal wing bearer’s face—stricken with terror—flashed through her mind, and Sweetie quickly shivered, further tucking the wings at her sides. Never before had she caused such pain, and the sounds of the whining ‘hnnnnng’ as all those guards and several passers-by doubled over in rainbows and dumb expressions etched on their faces.
“What in Equestria is taking them so long!?” Princess Celestia exclaimed. Sweetie snapped out of her stupor, ears prickling forward as she watched Celestia pacing through the tiny bedroom.
Princess Luna lay splayed across her own bed, hoof over fetlock. She watched with contempt, eyeing her sister’s pacing, all the while subtly bobbing her head to the sound of music in her ears. She raised her voice slightly, pulling the headphones from her ears with her magic. “Sister, please, you have to be patient. Perfection cannot come easily. It takes time to prepare—”
“We’ve been waiting here for over an hour,” Celestia hissed. She ground her teeth as she ground to a halt, whipping back to face the doorway with a scowl. The doorway which, unremarkably, remained unremarkably closed. “This is completely ridiculous,” she continued, “If I were an ambassador, I wouldn’t take this from myself. Leaving anypony of high stature to wait long than—“
Luna snickered. She rolled her eyes as she stowed her headphones back in her lobe. “Peleeeese,” she rolled out the last word, watching intently as her sister’s ears twitched in annoyance. “As I have said, perfection takes time. You can’t expect yourself to be ready for anything. After all, the spell to hide that ass—
“Are you implying I am a diva!?” Celestia practically screamed, spraying spittle as she spun around on her sister. Sweetie Belle was bowled back from the bottom of the futon by the force of The Canterlot Voice. “I WILL HAVE YOU—” she coughed. With a glance to Sweetie Belle—concern flashed across her face when she spotted the filly sprawled upside-down against the far wall—Celestia barked out a quick apology. She then turned her attention fully to her sister, her voice lowered as she slowly approached. “I will have you know,” she whispered. An added wave of her hoof added to scolding tone as she leaned into her words. “I have not carried more than twelve satchels with me in several millennia.”
Sweetie Belle squeaked up from behind, her voice cracking as she rolled face-up. “Millennia?” her head tilted, Sweetie scratched behind her ears, muzzle scrunched up adorably. “How old are you, anyway?” she asked.
Celestia’s eye twitched. She swallowed then pushed Regal Smile #45—scolding but friendly to foals otherwise the parents would sue her for the damages to their linen—across her face. “That is,” she spat, “Beside the point.” She puffed her chest, and pushed back her forehead. “I am not a diva. I am a kind, intelligen—”
“Old beyond belief.”
Steam huffed from Celestia’s nostrils. She pointedly ignored Luna’s remark, continuing. “—sensible, and dignified ruler of this country.”
“That sounds like a diva to me.”
“Yeah.” Luna nodded. She glanced to Sweetie Belle, who had very much taken on a certain wry smirk. They both inched closer on their beds. “Diva does mean ‘the sun,’ in Ye Óldé Equish, after all.”
Celestia facehoofed, grumbling unheard—unknowable—profanities beneath her breath as she cursed every higher power—which, as of tonight, was limited to herself, Princess Luna, Princess Luna, Herself, and somehow Sweetie Belle. “I hate you both.”
It was at that moment that the door became no longer unremarkable. There was a soft tap.
TAP, TAP
Almost like a golden-clad hoof has slammed across its outer surface. Celestia, Luna, and Sweetie Belle, naturally, jumped at the sudden jolt, their attention suddenly glued to the remarkable slab of granite. “Yes?” Celestia asked. All but all of her previous anger vanished. “Come in.”
Another gentle tap.
SLAM, SLAM
Celestia and Luna shared a glance. Sweetie belle looked between them. The sense of Déjà vu hung heavy in the air. Princess Celestia decided to take the initiative, and hid behind Sweetie’s bed. “Come in, the door is open!” she screamed.
Another slam, and a crack, and the sounds of voices bubbled from the far side. Then the door burst open, stone shattering and magically enforced—alicornite locks—breaking in its wake.
Princess Celestia strode through crumbling remains of the castle’s strongest entrance-way. In retrospect, nopony should have allowed the guards to reinforce the castle’s security without supervision, Diacuticus be damned. “Finally!” she screamed, exasperated. “I have been knocking on that thing for over an hour! You do realise we have to be ready before midnight; am I correct?”
As she trotted through the door, Celestia was followed by an entourage of no more than twelve eight-ton trunks, an additional carry on, and an apparently extremely sleep-deprived Princess Luna.
Princess Celestia took one look at her trunks, and then glared herself in the eyes as if to say ‘Are you serious right now?’. She could feel Luna—her Luna—drinking this in from behind her back. “You do realise we’re not packing for an expedition to an alternate dimension here?”
“Oh no.” Celestia shook her head. She tapped the nearest trunk, which responded with a happy ‘woof!’ and began waggling its tassels. “This is just the amenities.”
The soft k-tack, k-tack, k-tack of the train’s wheels formed a soft monotonous din in the background, lulling the listener to sleep with their soothing tone. The sun hang low on the horizon, leaving long trails of orange hues sprawled across the wood-lined cabin.
Somewhere ahead the whistles of the Ponyville Express echoed overhead, and the lights dimmed as trees waved passed the unopened window, obscuring the dim landscape with their nettled brows and waving branches.
“Excuse me, sir, but would you like a saucer of milk?”
A low, drawn out and agitated growl sounded in response, barely noticeable under the constant rumble of the Ponyville Express. Anypony would not have noticed the warning, and neither, seemingly, did the train instructor as he stood his ground, leaning eagerly through the open cabin door to gaze at his passenger.
The papers of the Daily Corral fluttered in the breeze before the newspaper crumpled, then lowered gradually to reveal the contorted, gravelly gaze of none other than— “O- Opal?” – Opal the cat.
Her fur was fluffed to almost ridiculous proportions as they pricked with agitation. Every white hair on his head had turned into a veritable fluff of puff just by the pure static in the air—or perhaps some latent effect of a disastrous bathing session. The conductor couldn’t tell, because he was too busy staring at the immaculate pink bow, donned just right between the ears, the perfect complement to the odd clump of dying blood.
“Mmmmmyyyeesss...” Opal purred. He flashed a devilish grin, eyes flashing as a tree passed the window outside. With practiced ease, he set aside the newspaper then stretched out across the bench, kneading into the soft—veritably ruined—tattered upholstery—cracking several vertebrae in the process. “A drink would sounds lovely,” he purred, “Please, bring it with a scone and some crumbled rats. I’m feeling rather peckish this loop, you do understand?”
“Yes, of course!” The conductor shouted. He ducked back out of the car and was just about to start trotting down towards the dining car—with a quick stop at the kitchen from some rats—when he was caused pause by a cough and a raised claw.
Turning back, he was Opal leaning back in his seat, haunches pressed into the soft cushion. “And” Opal added, pausing whilst the stallion squeezed himself back through the tight entrance. The carriage shook a moment, filling the silence, and Opal took the time to size the stallion up and down.
His eyes narrowed, brow furrowing. In a most spectacular feat, Opal took his free claw and ran the the ends of his fingers through the tiny tuft under his chin. “Are you not curious,” he said, cocking his head slightly, “About why you have a talking feline, riding alone, on the most expensive cart you offer on this train to Canterlot in the middle of the night?”
The conductor’s brow furrowed to match Opals. He glanced at his hooves in deep thought. Then, looking back up, he finally admitted. “To be honest, yes, I have been a little curious. We don’t normally get passengers at this time.”
Silence.
“...”
More silence.
“Are you serious?”
“Serious about what, sir?” the conductor responded.
“Are you not shocked, at least?”
“Why would I be?”
“I am a talking cat, you know.”
“Sir, with all due respect”— He tipped his hat politely, retreating from the car backwards one hoof at a time, smiling—“We get talking magical unicorns on daily basis here, sir. This is hardly to be unexpected.”
Celestia was laying out her many trunks beside the bed, a frown on her face as she grappled with fitting the veritable mountain of accessories into the cramped space. Beside her, still sprawled out across her bed, princess Luna was doing whatever was in her power not to care about anything whilst the rest went about organising the rest of the room.
“Clock?”
“Check!” Sweetie Belle chirped. The quill and checklist fluttered in her green aura, bobbing along as she trotted, eyes glued to the page, stumbling along to keep up behind Celestia’s towering flanks. She managed to mark the list before scanning further down and shouting out the next item. “Cupcakes?”
“Check.” Celestia nodded her agreement. Flashing a mile, she lit her horn and cast her mind towards the dresser, pulling the bottom drawer open and retrieving the first of many delicious treats. “This is going to be great for a midnight snack,” she said, and then chomped down on a chocolate-chip-chocolate cupcake with diet chocolate icing. “Mfmfmfmf—“ she swallowed, and left the cupcake to float in her aura as she turned to address Sweetie. “Anything else?” She glanced to the filly, then hazarded a guess, “Magic bags? Magic books? Optional Phoenix?”
Philomena squawked and rattled her cage from the far corner of the room. “No, I don’t think so,” said Sweetie. She glanced to the oversized black book dangling under her shoulder. It was throbbing and whispering sweet nothings in her ear. It was also scratching the floor.
She shifted her stance, pulling her back straight to hold the monster of a tome higher than her ankles. “I have the book, and my bags are under the bed, so....” she trailed off, nose scrunching for but a second as she scanned over the rest of the list. “All that’s left is to get you and Luna into—”
“Oh my Celestia, like, when are we going?” Princess Luna—one of them at least, because at this point who could possibly tell?—strode between them whining like and angst-ridden teen. She had her mane done up into a cute bow. Extra thick, extra black mascara joined her usual entourage of makeup, and she was donned from heat to hoof in moony-moos moon-shoes-patterned pyjamas, chosen to perfectly match her actual moon shoes as a replacement for her usual royal attire. “I’m tired”—she clasped a hoof to her forehead, and flopped backwards onto Sweetie Belle’s bed. “And I’m hungry, and—”
“Luna,” Celestia snapped. She clasped a hoof to her forehead and dragged to slowly down her face as she groused. “... What. Are you. Doing.”
Princess Luna rolled back over. She glanced to her sister, then around the room, then returned to ignoring everything as her music player switched to blasting The Lunar Pirate into her ears and the surrounding neighbourhood.
“Oh, well...” Luna leaned back, glancing to Sweetie Belle and her sister. She frowned. “Aren’t we having a slumber party? I just wanted to get into character.”
“Well...” Celestia crossed her hooves. “One, your acting is terrible—“
“Hey!”
Celestia continued regardless, ignoring the protests from both of her sister. “And Two, only I get to swear by my name.”
It was at this point, that every other Princess in the room pricked their ears. Celestia especially, as she caught a particularly sharp glare from herself, stroking the back of her last trunk like a menacing cat. A square cat, yeah, but a cat nonetheless. “Excuse me?” she said.
Princess Luna—the other Luna—finally glanced up from her music player to join herself and her sister in glaring at her sister.
Celestia glanced to each of them, deflating slightly. “What?” She looked to Sweetie Belle, who had her ears splayed back, and was also giving her a particularly smelly eye. “What did I say?”
“Only you can swear by your name?”
“Well, yeah, uh—” she bit her lip. “It’s... funnierthatway—hey look!” Her hoof shot out to the side, calling her sister’s attention away from herself as she grasped for anything to change the subject. Luckily, she had just the thing: she drew her hoof over to the far corner, where she spotted Princess Luna’s bowling ball bag, dark blue and crafted of leather. There was nothing special about it, other than being crafted from leather, and the fact it was lying there, in this room, slumped besides Sweetie’s own bursting bags. “What’s that?”
Sweetie Belle frowned. “Uh...?”
Both Luna’s shared a glance, and then shrugged as they repeated in unison. “It’s just old clipper.”
“What’s old clipper?”
“We and our old bowling buddies used to go out to the lanes on every fortnight—“ Luna said. The second Luna then picked up where she left off—“It’s a special bag we take everywhere with us because it’s enchanted to hold a near infinite amount of balls.”
“Oh!” Sweetie chirped. Dropping the clipboard, she trotted over to Princess Luna’s side, looking up to her excitedly with stars in her eyes. “Is that where you got the spell we used on my bag!?”
“Mhm.” Luna nodded. “It is. But alas, ours is an older variant that can only take balls. Bowling balls.”
“Oh.”
“Yes, well...” Celestia breathed a sigh of relief. With the situation successfully de-escalated, she returned to checking the list, casually flipping through it and ticking off items with her magic. Every so often, she’d look to another part of them room and tick off every confectionary she sampled, mumbling out loud as she worked. “Anyway, I’m more curious why it’s here,” she said. She tapped her chin with the quill, leaving a clear black streak across her chin. “I mean, it’s not like we’re going onto another pony planet or something.”
“No, but we still wanted to bring it.” Luna insisted. She shifted her position to lean on her fetlocks whilst Sweetie Belle curled up at her side, cuddling under Luna’s wing like a pet cat. She proceeded to pet Sweetie’s mane as she pointed with her other hoof. “Remember what happened last time with the cupcakes?”
Both Celestia and Princess Luna grimaced.“I’d rather forget.”
“No, me neither,” said her sister.
Luna nodded. “Well, I figured if we brought a bunch of things with us we can duplicate them. And with two infinite bowling ball bags I can carry twice as many bowling balls.”
This garnered several confused looks across the room, including Sweetie Belle who coughed up first. “Uh, Princess Luna, are you?”
“Cabbage,” said Princess Luna. She slumped slightly, and her smile went a little off kilter.
“I think she’s allergic to cats,” said Celestia. She glanced up from her pile of trunks for just a moment, then turned back to getting the last one to ‘sit’. There was a single bark, and the sound of thumping below the bed. Celestia frowned as she whispered. “Shh-shh, sit, fido, sit.”
Another bark and Celestia was at this point contemplating teaching her bags to play dead; in a very literal sense.
“Well...” Celestia turned away from the strange scene, clasping ehr hooves together as she exclaimed. “Okay, then.” She tossed the checklist and quill aside then spun back to face her fellow sisters. “I guess we’re ready?” She scanned the room, gauging her sister’s responses before continuing. “Four Princesses—”
“Five,” Sweetie corrected, extending her wings and pointing to her crown for emphasis.
Celestia sighed. “Five Princesses; two beds. How are we going to proceed?”
“Well, let’s see...” Sweetie belle frowned. She squirmed to get free from Luna’s hold, pushing the princess’ hooves off her back as she pulled herself into a ‘thinking’ position—hoof planted firmly under her chin—and frowned—and frowned.
She stuck out her tongue and her eyes began to cross just as one of the Royal Guards stepped through the broken door to deliver his report. He quickly nodded to the princesses, not looking as he stepped into the proper. “Princesses-sess,” he said, “I have a damage report on the—“ He opened his eyes and froze on the spot, emitting a high-pitched “hnnnnnng,” as he clutched at his heart. The stallion slumped then crumbled to the floor, a blissful sigh and a happy smile his last message to the world.
Sweetie Belle looked up from her thoughts. The scrunch on her nose unfolded and her eyes fluttered as she glanced around at the various princesses—each standing with their eyes covered for some reason. “I think I have an idea.”
Stats
Page generated in 0.015 seconds
Total duration
691 users online
860,565 hits today, 2,167,270 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
Did you forget to click save by chance? Just wondering. It happens quite a few times to people.
In even tinier hoof mirror floated in her green aura
Never before had she cause such pain
Are you implying I am a diva !?
“ I have not carried more than twelve satchels with me in over millennia.”
nopony should have allowed the guards to re=enforce the
did the train instructor as her stood his ground
Are you not socked, at least
stroking the back of her last trunk like menacing cat
she draw her hoof over to the far corner
1. An.
2. Caused.
3. Extra spacing at the start.
4. Reinforce.
5. He.
6. Shocked.
7. Like a menacing cat.
8. Drew.
What's better than infinity? Infinity plus 1.
I know its right, but it sounds wrong. "...to take them along (for the ride)" or so might be less repetitiv... but given its about a loop... eh
Oddly no. I don't think so, at least.
Whilst looking through I found a few mistakes none of us seemed to have caught. Something may have gone a bit funky whilst copying to/back from Google Docs. :/
Thanks for the corrections!
9154577
It's a very old description. Like, years old. The starting chapters of this story are probably some of the first attempts I actually made in writing, so they are a little frayed at the edges.
Youknow it's not as odd to be able to carry twice the bowling balls as one might suspect. Since a bag takes up a finite amount of space with effectively unlimited storage, one can summarize the actual capability would be more along the lines of a natural fractal -- a figure without edges but an infinite length. Fractals actually have a finite space inside of them, but an infinite perimeter. So technically while the limit is infinite, because the storage is determined by perimeter rather than area, Luna is correct in her assumption.
While the growth rate would be the same, one would reach infinity faster than the other, so two bags have a greater infinity than only one bag. You can actually get 2 back out the limits depending on your regions.
9158880
Well that's something. I didn't expect for Luna's reasoning to... have any reason.
9158922
I give it an 80% chance to be reasonable depending on the unit being measured
..Always a bit of errata with taking written word into maths
9160622
Of course. If you're counting in celestiatonnes it might be a little hard to make it reasonable.
9160704
cdn-img.fimfiction.net/story/d39r-1524924276-407868-medium