For the Good of Equestria

by brokenimage321

Chapter 17: Escape

Celestia was pacing in her darkened room when the rising moon peeked above her windowsill. She stopped walking and stared at it for a long moment, then nodded decisively. She moved to the door and tried the handle. She was barely surprised to find it locked.

So, she knocked.

After a moment, the knob turned, and the door opened just a crack. Through the sliver of light, she saw a soldier in crystal armor, his coat a flat orange, rather than the shimmering pastels of the others. When he saw her, his eyes went wide. “Princess,” he blurted out, astonishment in his drawl. “You look like you been run hard and put away wet!”

Celestia’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?” she asked, startled, whatever plan she had forgotten.

He winced, then cleared his throat nervously. “I mean, uh…” he swallowed. “Y-you don’t look so good, Your Highness.”

Celestia sighed. “It’s been a… trying afternoon,” she said, carefully.

He bowed his head. “For what it’s worth,” he murmured. “I’m sorry how they’re treatin’ ya. It ain’t right.”

Celestia felt a little twitch of a smile at the edge of her mouth. He was a little rough around the edges, this guard, but he wore his heart on his sleeve—there was nothing in his soul that you couldn’t read on his face.

And suddenly, she made a decision.

“Please,” she said, “Call me Celestia.”

“Highness?” he said, looking up

She nodded. “I mean it,” she said.

He nodded carefully. “If you please... t-then I will, Highness.” He froze, then shook his head a little. “Ma’am,” he corrected himself. “But, uh, I gotta ask—why?”

“Because I trust you,” she said simply.

The guard stood up a little straighter and puffed out his chest the slightest bit. “D’ya mean it?” he asked eagerly.

She nodded. “I do.”

He fluffed his wings a little, and tried to hide his smile.

“What’s your name?” Celestia asked him.

“Flash Sentry, Ma’am,” he said smartly.

Celestia nodded slightly. “That’s right—you met us at the river…”

“Yes’m,” he said. “I remember.”

Celestia glanced again at his flat orange coat. “You’re not from around here, are you, Flash?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I was born here, if that’s what you’re askin’,” he said. “Born and Crystalled. But my folks weren’t. They were skiing in the mountains one day, and His Brilliance hired ‘em to see if they could help control the blizzards.” He smiled. “They couldn’t—but then they had me, so I guess we came out even.”

Celestia smiled a little. “More than even,” she said. Flash smiled a little wider.

“Were they from Cloudsdale?” she asked.

“No’m,” he said. “Roan Oak.”

“Roak Oak,” she repeated with a nod. “Good ponies there.”

“Never been, Ma’am,” he said.

Celestia sighed. “That’s right,” she said. “I apologize.”

“No apology needed, Ma’am.”

She gave a little smile, which he returned.

Celestia hesitated, then took a deep breath.

“Flash,” she said, “You’ve been very good to my sister and I—on both of our visits.” She smiled, then glanced around her room. “As much as can be expected, at least.”

He nodded, blushing a little. “Thank ya kindly, Ma’am,” he muttered. “My Mama did her best to raise me right.”

“And she did well,” Celestia responded. Flash nodded again, then pulled his helmet a little lower, trying to hide his reddening cheeks.

Celestia watched him for a moment, then took a deep breath. “Flash,” she said slowly, “I think it would be best if you took a break now.”

He looked up at her from under his helmet, worry in his eyes. “Ma’am?”

“I’m in earnest,” she said. “It would work out better—for you and me both—if you found reason to be elsewhere tonight.”

He opened his mouth to object—but, before he could speak, he seemed to catch something in her expression. He closed his mouth and swallowed, then straightened up. “Now, you know I could never leave my post,” he said, “but I do think I might could make a visit to the john—’specially if it’s on Royal orders.”

“Of course,” she nodded in agreement. “I don’t think anyone could object.” Celestia made a little bow. “My thanks,” she said.

“Just doin’ my duty, Ma’am,” he said, with a sad little smile.

“Still,” she replied, pulling her door shut.

Celestia leaned against the door and counted to fifty before turning. She walked to the bed, picked up her saddlebags and put them on, then walked to the window. She’d inspected it earlier—a big picture window, made of a single, hard slab of clear crystal, a different hue and cut than the rest of the place. She began to prod at it with her magic, testing whatever seal held it in place, and was surprised to find no obvious weakness. She sighed, braced herself, and concentrated. Slowly, her horn grew brighter.

The window trembled, and, after a moment’s struggle, the entire pane came free with a sudden crack. Celestia yelped but caught it with her magic; after taking a moment to steady her breathing, she spread her wings and fluttered outside, then gently placed the crystal where it had rested before.

It took her almost a half-hour to find Luna’s room. The Spire was larger than it seemed from the inside, with easily hundreds of rooms—and just as many windows to check. She tried to be subtle—as subtle as a giant flying pony can be—but, whatever she did, it apparently worked; by the time she found Luna, it seemed no one had noticed her.

Celestia peered through the window at her sister. Luna appeared to be asleep, lying in an enormous, plush bed, with thick curtains drawn partway closed. The expression on her face was unreadable from this distance, but her posture was uneasy. The room was very much Crystal, but just as much Luna—little touches like white lilies in a vase and a tapestry of lunar phases showed she’d been here long enough to get comfortable.

Mercifully, this window opened with a latch—but Celestia had already crossed enough lines for one day.

So, once again, she knocked.

Instantly, Luna’s eyes flew open, red and puffy from weeping. She raised her head and stared at Celestia for several seconds, then stood and walked over. She opened the window, but did not step back to admit her. “What do you want?” she demanded.

“Can I come in?” Celestia asked quietly. After a moment, Luna sighed, then took a step backwards. Celestia nodded her thanks, glided in, and settled down on the floor. Luna closed the window behind her, then turned to stare at Celestia. Celestia herself said nothing, but simply stepped forward and took her in a silent embrace.

“Celestia,” Luna snapped, pulling away. “What do you want? Didn’t you already make enough of a spectacle this morning?”

Celestia clenched her jaw. “Lu,” she said, gently, “we need to talk.”

“Do we?” Luna demanded.

Celestia only nodded. Luna sighed heavily, but sat down on the floor. “Fine,” she said. “Talk.”

Celestia sat down in front of her. “Listen,” she said, “I don’t know what Sombra’s told you—”

“He told me enough.”

Celestia swallowed, trying to keep the tears from coming. “I mean—” She fell silent and grimaced. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go…

Celestia remained silent, head bowed, for a long moment. Finally, she slowly raised her head and smiled. “Lu,” she said quietly. “How long have we known each other now?”

Luna opened her mouth to respond—but, before she could, she seemed to deflate a little. She sighed, then responded, just as quietly, “Two hundred years and counting.”

Celestia nodded. “And, in all that time, have I ever done you wrong?”

Luna looked down, then shook her head.

“Luna,” Celestia said, putting a hoof under Luna’s chin and raising her gaze, “Do you trust me?”

A pause—but Luna nodded.

“Then I need you to trust me, one more time.”

Slowly, Luna nodded again. Celestia closed her eyes in relief.

“What should we do?” Luna asked, in a tiny voice.

“We need to go,” Celestia responded. “Something’s going on here, and—”

Luna shook her head sharply. “No,” she said. “I’m not going.”

“Lu—”

“No. Sombra, he—” she swallowed. “...He loves me, Cece, and I love him…” She looked up at her sister, eyes shining. “He needs me. I can’t leave. Not—not without him.”

Celestia froze. Harmony’s bones...

The wheels in her head spun frantically, trying to engineer a response, but nothing was coming. What do you say to that?

Luna studied her face, then shot her a look of scorn and began to turn away. Suddenly, Celestia heard herself speak. “If that’s true,” she said, “then you have nothing to worry about.”

Luna turned back to her, the surprise on her face matching Celestia’s own.

Celestia swallowed, then spoke again. “If he loves you, really loves you,” she said, “Then he’ll understand. He won’t be mad that I’ll need a little more time to think this through.” She smiled a little. “He might even think more of you for being willing to leave his side to make sure your big sister gets taken care of.”

Luna rolled her eyes. “How would you know?” she spat. “You don’t know him.”

“I don’t,” Celestia heard herself say, gently. “But… I knew someone, once.”

Luna looked up again, and, for the first time, looked into Celestia’s eyes. She stared for a long moment—and what she saw made her shiver. “Alright,” she said quietly. “I’ll go with you. But—” she glanced out the window, at the dome, and, beyond it, barely visible, at the howling storm. “—where will we go?”

Celestia swallowed, her mind’s eye filled with Sombra’s maniacal grin. “We go out. Into the storm,” she said hollowly.

Luna whipped her head around .”Are you serious?” she asked. “Into that?”

Celestia let out a long breath. “Like you said,” she said with a little grin. “We’re big girls.” She turned to look at the dome in silence for a moment. “How does Sombra do it?” she asked. “Get through the storm, I mean? Surely, he had plans to get me here, otherwise he wouldn’t have let you invite me.”

Slowly, Luna shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said. “He said once that he could part the storm…”

Celestia’s eyes widened. “Part the storm,” she repeated. “...I don’t think there’s a unicorn alive who could do that…”

Luna nodded. “I know. But that’s what he said.”

“...and I don’t think he’ll want to give us a demonstration of how it works,” Celestia replied. She sighed. “Well, there’s only one thing to do—head out into it ourselves.”

Luna looked up at her sharply. “Head out—” she swallowed. “Are you crazy?”

She shook her head. “I made it once before. We can do it again.”

Luna shook her head. “No, we can’t. Not without the proper supplies, and clothes and—” She looked into Celestia’s eyes, then sighed. “But you won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”

Celestia shook her head. “No, I won’t. For this to all settle out, we have to get away from him. And there’s nowhere we can really do that here in the city. You know that.”

Luna nodded slowly. “You’re asking an awful lot of my trust,” she said.

“I know.” Celestia took her by the hoof. “But I wouldn’t ask if I knew we couldn’t do it.”

Luna stayed silent for a moment, then nodded. “Well,” she said, “Let’s get this over with.”

A few minutes later, the window opened again. Celestia, wearing her forest-green cloak and goggles, put her hooves up on the windowsill, then spread her wings, took a deep breath, and flew out. She was followed close behind by Luna, wearing a similar cloak in midnight blue, still creased from where it had lain in Celestia’s bags. She flew up towards Celestia, who was hovering high above, glancing around urgently.

“There,” Celestia said, gesturing at a point on the horizon, then took off. Luna sighed, exasperated, and followed.

Celestia halted just before the dome. She could see, dimly, through its barrier, the snow lashing at the shield. She reached out and brushed the shield, gently, with one of her hooves, feeling it give slightly with an odd, electrical tingle before bouncing back into shape. She swallowed, then turned to glance at Luna, hovering just over her shoulder. “You ready?” she asked, pulling up her muffler again.

Luna glanced over Celestia’s shoulder at the snow beyond, and, after a moment, set her jaw, looked back at and nodded.

Celestia smiled, and took her one more time by the hoof. “Then, let’s go.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned, and, with a mighty sweep of her wings, shot through the dome.

The icy wind slammed into Celestia, tearing through her cloak. The shock wrenched a gasp from her throat. She pumped her wings, trying to pull ahead of the wind but she could barely see anything in the cold, solid whiteness. She felt Luna’s hoof tremble, but she held tight.

She flew for—she didn’t know for how long, fighting the sky and the snow, eyes straining to see through the blizzard, Luna’s hoof tight in hers. Where is it? she thought. They should have—

Suddenly, Luna’s grip began to slip. Celestia barely heard her scream over the roar of the wind that grabbed her and flung her aside. She whipped her head about and saw a dark shape tumbling head over heels into the wind. She gritted her teeth, pinned her wings back, and shot forward into a steep dive. She crashed into Luna and wrapped her arms around her as the two of them began to tumble.

Celestia gripped Luna tight as they fell. She knew she couldn’t stop their spin—but she had to try. She spread her wings, twisting them to try and stall their roll—but it wasn’t enough. “Luna!” she screamed against the storm. “Fly!”

Luna squeezed her eyes shut, then flared her wings. With one, last sickening twist, the two of them straightened out—but they were still falling. Luna looked down and screamed. Celestia gritted her teeth again. She flapped her wings, hard. Their dive began to level out—but, with their combined weight, it wasn’t enough. Still they fell towards the snow.

And then, she saw it—a flag, stuck in the snow, flapping in the wind. She beat her wings, but it wasn’t enough. They were falling too fast. She pumped harder. Just a little farther—

As the icy snow raced up at them, Celestia closed her eyes and held on tight.

They smashed into the snow—and broke through.

They fell into emptiness, and landed, hard, in deep, white powder. In seconds, a dozen hooves pulled them free and began to rub them down with towels and throw blankets over them. Luna looked up in astonishment, then turned back to Celestia. Celestia looked up and smiled; they stood in a snow cave, with close to twenty ponies, wrapped in snow robes and blankets themselves, reading charts, manning the fire, and polishing skis. Behind them hung a tall banner, bearing the sigil of the Two Sisters.

Luna looked around in silence. “This was your plan all along,” she said quietly to Celestia.

It was not a question.

* * *

Luna sat by the firepit, a thick blanket around her shoulders and a cup of tea, untouched, in her lap. Celestia sat next to her, a look of concern on her face.

“I’m sorry,” she said, finally. “It’s just—”

“You wanted me to fail,” Luna said quietly.“You brought these soldiers here for when we had to run away.”

Celestia shook her head sharply. “No, no, no, Lu,” she said. “I had every faith in you. If anyone could have made it work, it would have been you.” She turned to look into the fire. “Just… the way your letters were, I needed to make sure. Something didn’t seem right, and I didn’t want to gamble your life on it.”

“You’re paranoid,” Luna replied quietly.

“I’m careful,” she countered.

Luna said nothing. After a moment, she shifted her weight.

“What happens now?” she asked.

“Now?” Celestia repeated. “Now, we get out of the valley, as fast as we can. It’ll take us several days, but…” she smiled. “These are all good snowponies. I’m impressed at what they’ve done in the time they’ve had—and, with their help, we might be out of here as early as the night after tomorrow.”

Luna didn’t react. Celestia sighed to herself.

“Beyond that,” she continued, “I think it’s up to Sombra what happens next. If I don’t miss my guess, he won’t be happy that we’ve chosen to skip out, but I don’t know what he’ll do.” She hesitated. “I… I’ve taken the step of… of mustering the Alliance’s armies. Just in case.”

Luna looked up at her, her expression uneasy. “Do you think he would?” she asked.

Celestia shook her head. “You’d know better than I would,” she said. “But I’ve known a fair amount of… of his type, and I think it’s best to be cautious.” She had been about to say psychopathic despots, but bit her tongue at the last moment.

“If you think so,” Luna said, still quiet, turning back to the fire.

Celestia frowned, then took a sip from her own teacup.