Chapter 11: Husband of Hers, Finale
If Sombra was innocent, Celestia was guilty; if Sombra was guilty, Celestia was innocent.
All of her plight could be spoken in those words, and everything that threatened to unravel her life could be hinged on that dichotomy. For once, the supposed simplicity of that sum was terrifying. Here was a risk that put not just herself, but her family and kingdom at stake. For the mare who desired control as much as she knew she did, the kind of catastrophe that could usurp all of history should not have been this. Any consequence in the world would have been far more preferable.
Here was the root to tangle her every calamity, and how it surprised her was a disaster unto itself. Twice, it had crept up on her when it should have remained as something less than a shadow compared to her. The first awful surprise was how there had been neither thought, cause, or heavens know what to see Sombra as innocent. That in itself had felt like nonsense on par with something even Discord's magic could not work into being. The second surprise was the dreadful collage that had emerged as a web that threatened to catch her in all that she had learned. Of this newfound knowledge, she was thankful to none of it, for who would want to learn anything if the risk of such a dreadful tapestry could be revealed? Was that not why the God of Knowledge was a demon, for who could seek something so dark and cruel?
The former being truth would mean that Sombra was a victim, though when something as unsavory as murder was the result, Celestia could not see how any innocence could — or even should — result. Somepony was dead via means most evil, especially in this kind of situation with Sombra. So much of Celestia was still staunchly understanding of this; for when an undeserved life is lost through such means, why would any innocence matter?
That aside, there was also the complete overthrow of any history that was tragically obvious to her. If such status were to be disclosed or anything given the gruesome retelling that differed drastically from anything anypony knew, then that would make her the villain!
Her! She was the mare who saw every good subject of hers as a blessing, and they regarded her as so in turn! She loved her ponies so that each one all but held her heart in their hooves, each the weighty token she spent her (sadly) eternal life on. Her, a villain! How could anything be so broken, so wrong? What being heralded by those she cared for as their sun princess, the most harmonious, the bearer of light, and the morning star could ever fall to such a view? Every byname bestowed to her was as numerous as the years she lived, and not a single one of them was fit for a wicked sort!
Princess Celestia of all ponies could not be evil, not in the slightest. Sombra had never been anypony that had struck her as any kind of opposite or rival, for she could not even see how they could be placed on the same pedestal.
Everything about Sombra that ponies were presented with showed him as the pinnacle of banal evil, and that was before his, ah, reformation in progress. Regardless of any kind of redemption that was trying to be done to him, one thing was always intact: history. The very history that Celestia made undisputable, for it was her word, spoke of how Sombra was without error. The emergence of error would throw everything straight under the carriage as lethally as possible.
Spin the tale of history any other way, and weeds of doubt would spread unlike anything else. Celestia herself would be the first to face the crunch of those wheels, from which she knew there would be no return. What would Dissy think? Or Qilin? Twilight? Their reactions would be unpredictable, for certain. Plunging everypony else close to her into just how such a change caused everything to diverge would be another nail in the coffin that would be all that is needed to...
...As much as Cadance knew, she wasn't as informed as she could be...
...Surely Raven wouldn't desert her?
...Really, painting Princess Celestia as anything but kind, modest, and good would change everything about Equestria as a result. The types most likely to do that were the ones who so wrongly declared that injustices needed to be remembered, and that the dark points in Equestrian history reflected on the nation's character too, even after all the work she put into making it as safe and sanitized as a foal's storybook. If her reign was like a film, then any alteration of her image to such a level would be to remove the most pivotal scene.
No reputation could rise again from the scale of scandal that had predicted itself in her thoughts against her every wish, paralyzing her mind with fear that hadn't frozen the rest of her. This was the deadly mistake no amount of necromancy could revive, or so she could easily conclude. Maybe she wasn't sure of some things, but this was no such occasion, and it all boiled down to such an awful finality:
If Sombra was innocent, Celestia was guilty; if Sombra was guilty, Celestia was innocent.
What surrounded him would be far more unforgivable to ponies than the wraps around Starswirl the Bearded. Not only did Cadance and Twilight understand why Celestia and Luna did not speak of him — Celestia especially — other ponies could understand too, out of sympathy and not knowing any better, not that the lesser blow (by comparison alone) to herself and Equestria would give her a single reason to... reveal anything. Starswirl could remain their sagely old hero, a simple old stallion with unassuming students and a life tailored for bedtime stories and children's works that would demand no uniqueness or honesty.
Sombra had now gained the status of being a liability, not that she would say so or that she liked describing him as one. Such was the needed — and involuntary — conclusion of a ruler with ponies to protect, and the mechanical feeling that such a conclusion brought wasn't appreciated right now, not when she was steeped in her own fear and shame. Another burden to an important decision submitted by the dominant part of her that knew to be the ruler, the princess was the last thing she needed. Yes, Sombra was now a time bomb of horrifyingly poor mental health from traumas that ran deep, but she didn't like to hear it phrased so, and not from herself.
At least, not anymore.
Betrayal tainted much of her emotions in the matter. Ponies in pain had always brought the same empathetic pangs to Celestia, and now there was a constricting knot of something developing for the demon — and surely, it was out of need.
(Heavens, let it be entirely out of need. She wished it sometimes.)
That one had buried itself in her, as a thorn did, stinging with thoughts of Luna over Sombra. Pity had been sweeping over her, held in for the demon, as she would pity anypony in his situation. (Not that anything became easier or faux because of this inclination.) Together, Luna and Solara had lived with Starswirl and all his vices. Terrible bonds replaced the sorority of Tia and Luna that came from experiencing the torment of the sot and how that carried over to the youths placed in his care. To learn that Luna loves somepony, knowing that they have been spoiled by the same kind of ordeal that had helped bring such abuse upon the both of them felt like nothing other than a cruel act of disloyalty between her and Luna, no matter how unintentional. Recovery this-or-that was a wicked joke when it came to him, not that Celestia would ever say that to anypony else. Never did that stop the tears at her own heart knowing her daughter gave hers to, well, a... ruined sort of stallion.
(She certainly never associated with such stallions in her personal life, and had she known somepony so close to her was at risk of doing so, she would have offered the sound advice to pare that pony out of her daughter's life before things ever got serious.)
(And yet, when had things ever between her daughter and Sombra ever borne the casual, lightness of most relationships? The kind that comes and goes, never to become more than a stepping stone in a pony's romantic life.)
When she remembered how Sombra had screamed when she had exited his study after confronting him about erroneous education reforms, that sound haunted her. The very recollection of it inspired a clammy sensation to erupt under her coat. Now she knew that had been a cry of pain, regardless of how something so monstrous sounded in her memories. Whatever depth of pain was lurking in a sound like that would not be anything Celestia could expect to be deluded with time, not even after all the time between that meeting and now.
Trauma like that was not something that would likely abandon a mortal with time, and considering the immortal capacity for lengthier emotional responses, this had been rotting in him for a considerable amount of time and was even less likely to be torn from him. And it would not go of his own accord, not without somepony to be there.
She did not want herself to be that somepony. Lurking in her was still all that fluttering ill hesitance buried deep inside, the feeling that Celestia knew was herself stumbling on the thin line between right and wrong that came with Luna urging her to befriend Sombra. So what if they had their moments of... something? Fleeting flashes of aches, doubts, and pains were not unfounded because she was attempting kinship with the wrong creature, and there were just times when she couldn't kid herself about it. (There had been enough double-takes from the staff when they caught her and Sombra talking, too. Looks that were foreign for Princess Celestia to receive, but the ghosts of do-nots, should-nots, and showers of is-it-so that Solara of the Unicorn Court had known.) She couldn't just 'get over' something that stirred up such wrongness.
She also could not appoint herself some kind of immediate helper for Sombra, and not because there were times when she needed to bring her own emotions under control. No matter the escalating dread under her mask from the horror of this, she felt alone too. Though, not as alone as Sombra was bound to feel. Celestia could understand a whole array of hurt, and utilize the princess facet of her to help, to ease, and whatever else she could.
There was the key: whatever else she could. Bad grades, grief, and a wither to cry on were all ways she felt confident in being there for somepony. The darkest aspects of hurt and mental health were of Luna's realm, and something Celestia only knew how to point a pony towards.
Sometimes that could go horribly wrong...
That couldn't happen to Sombra. Tartarus, for such an ugly oath, fit the dour situation, had to know that she never wanted a pony to be hurt when they were stuck in whatever torment brought by cruel deeds. Keeping what she knew in the dark until patience provided a plan was for her own sake as much as it was an extension of courtesy to Sombra. His being prickly with others only added to the complication of who she could've told in the first place.
Even if her hate for him was still a sure, strong thing, doing anything to exploit his harm would be wrong. Here was the line she would not cross, and that was to torment somepony hurt beyond her own understanding. What creature would know such cruelty that they wouldn't try and step up and do something for a victim? The burn of purpose this had kindled in her was hardly too different from something a cutie mark could do, at least by pure sensation; nothing magical had actually made itself known when the emotion overtook her.
Heavens just let her help this one pony; it was all she wished.
...
Mind rape was not a term Princess Celestia ever used lightly. She didn't have to, either. That particular facet of mind control was one that could only be present when dark magic was at hoof, and Equestrian history had a minimal presence of it. Only two dark artifacts had surfaced, and those were too many in her mind. The Alicorn Amulet, whose crystals also held the capability for blood magic, was found in the hooves of an infamous serial killer during her rule alone. The other was a set of tablets that had been found by a mare much more inclined to inflict the violation Sombra had suffered upon others as she showed her greed to the world as a true green-eyed monster. Because she had also wreaked havoc on Equestria during Celestia's rule alone, there was a good record of her now. At the time, Celestia had felt shattered at being unable to do more than nudge more victims in the direction of the ponies who were qualified to care for them.
(Had Luna been there, she would've known what to do. She wasn't the one who kept to diplomacy and the matters fit for a princess all the time and really knew how to truly connect to those whose troubles were hidden.)
The poke of a book's old binding and the sound of familiar wingbeats pulled Celestia's muzzle out of the pages where she had been sniffling (as daintily as possible) from the dusty Canterlot Archive book in front of her.
Celestia crinkled her muzzle and her hoof righted her crooked reading glasses. "Thank you, 'Mina," she murmured, nudging a page again.
Philomena's answer was to twitter happily and tickle Celestia's muzzle with her feather-tips. Normally the kind of documents that required Celestia to squint at them through her reading glasses in the mustier wings of the Archives was simply boring, and of course, Philomena would rather have fun. Accompanying her friend through such a hard youth had made the phoenix all the more delighted at the safety and cheer of modern Equestria, so that she might indulge in pranks when Celestia couldn't aid her.
"Not now, 'Mina. Mama's doing serious work here." Embers dusting Celestia's muzzle caused her to sneeze, and thankfully all that was stirred was a cloud of dust and a cheeky bird, who took the cue to fly out.
If there was one thing Celestia could count on, it was for the constant light-hearted impishness of her feathered friend to be the sorely needed balance when she felt inconstant.
Chirps dwindled as Philomena took her leave from the Archives, no doubt off to find somepony who would take up her offer to play. Discord was her usual backup partner in crime, and he managed to be an excellent phoenix buddy, which was always a cause of relief for Celestia.
Returning her attention to the old books, she started scanning the pages again. The wing of the castle's Archives that housed ancient criminal accounts and crime histories spanned a whole floor, which unlike the tours was unassuming compared to the towers that housed other wings of the Archive. Magical texts were bare of what she was looking for; in the records of nearly forgotten blots of history was where the few written accounts of mind rapes were chronicled in all their horror.
There was no way of telling just how deep things ran with Sombra, or exactly how many times such action was taken against him. Had it only been once? Only Sombra would know.
Familiarity found its way into her thoughts. Each word made the memory of an old problem solved by an old Celestia clearer. Victim symptoms were consistent with what she had seen of Sombra's behavior, and some things about what Luna and Cadance told her were starting to sound like they could fit into a puzzle that could at least shape what was wrong with Sombra.
Victimology was anything but her strong suit, but there were other things she could do to substitute a weak spot. Without having to delve into Luna's libraries when she knew her requests would have been suspicious, Celestia was at least able to find a few chapters of this and that helpful: refreshers on how to be a good listener, speak carefully, and communicate clearly and kindly to somepony in distress.
The long-dead ponies whose names she faced had to be coached and calmed for repeated interviews and more that had gone into bringing this information to life. The last thing that she was going to do was humiliate Sombra in this by bringing everypony he knew and...
Sighing, Celestia squeezed her eyes shut and wished that she could scrap her own thoughts. This wasn't what she did. By Harmony, she was a princess, not some sort of personal welfare investigator! Even when she sat, truly wanting to immerse herself in preparing for an act of kindness that is anything but sensible, she could feel the apprehension that came with how maddeningly difficult this was. It was going to prove doubly so that this would be... personal, on top of disturbing to unearth.
Was this sort of helplessness something she should touch upon with Sombra? Already, she could hear her own voice wafting through the air like the scent of her own perfume. Lectures wouldn't do, but she needed something more than the standard of cheery warmth that she gave everypony else. This was serious. This was so serious that she had started taking notes for goodness sake, and the ink from her pen was dribbling all over her papers.
That's what kept sticking in her mind like thorns: this is serious. Sombra certainly didn't think anypony, aside from Luna, would try and do anything but dismiss his experiences.
Do not speak to Sombra in any way that could be seen as blame. Control your breathing, with little exception. Otherwise, Sombra could see my actions as those of somepony who wants to upset him. Keep him at ease, and don't even think to raise your voice.
The first bullet on her list was already close to an exclamation point of reminding her to be delicate with somepony as fragile as a victim. The one thing she didn't need was for the books of the past to remind her how perilous a subject this was, and the sheer wreck made of those victimized by dark sorcerers in this way. So much could be done to devastate and torture somepony with mind control alone that the very existence of such a violation as something beyond...
Luna had to know how horrific Sombra's mind control experiences were. She was his most fervent defender and the only pony in the world who really saw anything in him. By her sun, they had a connection that was downright frustrating with how deep it ran. Her own daughter knew enough of the torture that demon had been put through that she had been able to bring Sombra as far as he was today from whatever madness must've overwhelmed him in the Crystal Empire. ('Far' being a divide of distance rather than personal growth. There was so much about Sombra that struck her as a fallen tale; he was a prince with minimal power thus far in the nation of somepony he... had a complicated relationship with.)
With the practiced motions of her feathers, Celestia gripped her pen and let it balance on her strong flight feathers while she watched, biting her lip. Symptoms scrawled in ink still danced in her mind, and with them the quotes of exactly how these magical assaults upon the mind were named far, far too well...
Shifting with discomfort, Celestia returned to her notes and added something else after swirling the nib of her pen in ink again:
Remain calm when talking to Sombra. I cannot have myself visibly overwhelmed and emotional when Sombra is going to be going through so much. No shock, no tears, no surprise, and nothing that shows too much feeling. He'll see it as off-putting, for one, and I'm there to help him.
The only thing Celestia could imagine would be worse than having to admit that something terrible had happened to you was for the pony you needed to talk to being overly emotional and reacting too much, gasping, horrified, and brimming with sympathies ready to burst. Somepony had to be the one with clarity of mind between them, and if she was shocked and so obviously perturbed by what she heard, then she was being bad support in a discussion that she would have no right to steer towards herself.
Finding appropriate professional support wasn't going to be a less difficult task, not with how much Sombra clearly had to be hiding that this part of his ordeal was unknown to those who cared about him. Mind rape produced almost entirely identical trauma to those that had been through the non-magical equivalent. The treatment was trickier, if only because it was far beyond what somepony who specialized in mild and general mind magic recovery could do and not quite in the realm of anypony who worked with sexual abuse victims. Lack of education regarding dark magic during her reign made learning these treatments harder.
(Really, forget the divinity gambit that already complicated things. She was going to have to scour three nations at the very least to see who might be able to work with him.)
Celestia sniffled — and this time, it was not from the dust — and swallowed the worrying lump in her throat. For all she had against Sombra, the thought of really trying to take action against him as she had in the past would feel downright villainous of her now.
With a flicker of her pale aura, Celestia swapped out one book for another, flinching at the ache that came to her momentarily as she allowed her magic to twist clumsily.
"Nerves," she said shakily, quietly, to nopony but herself. "I should..."
She licked her lips, realizing they were dry. What should she do? The next book was not too unlike the former. Memoria Amentia's Defilement Unseen was the kind of text she would have to lend to Twilight at some point. Half-victim psychology and half-magical text, the pages she flipped past presented lithographs of art so abstract it was violent accompanied by the ponies who created them.
They all had some wildness in their eyes, or hollowness in the absence of the former. Most hunched their withers forward with fearful gloom or kept their downcast eyes looking to the side. Ragged scarves and jackets defined their postures more than any other body language could. Others were drawn with kind-faced nurses sitting beside them and baggy gowns upon their limply-held selves.
Accompanying each image was something that was recorded or an interview, most of which were relayed through the long-dead nurses posed next to their patients. Each explained how the pony had to live their lives as victims of the Dark Sorceress Hydia Invidia, first to claim the foul tablets of dark power that Celestia thought would have remained locked in ruins where no mortal would find them again.
The desperation to reclaim something from the horrors endured was palpable on the pages before her. Most of these ponies dwelled and were willing to elaborate on how they felt blamed, or isolated, and that they often found themselves unrecognizable to themselves and others. Sombra might feel like that, not that Celestia had any idea as to what he could have been like...
...Before his first attack, if there was more than one? Before he was banished? Before what, exactly? Did he even have a 'before' and 'after' point in his life? Could he make the distinction that these ponies could, saying anything was different before an assault? What insight into his own life did he have? Were his memories not clouded from torment?
Learning that anypony could abandon somepony out of a lack of understanding-
How can you act as though you've been any better? snapped the most awful part of her.
For the longest time, Celestia could do nothing more than sit, paralyzed by her own thoughts and grasping Defilement Unseen in her forehooves, wishing that she might shrivel away at the echo of such nastiness and be anypony other than who Celestia might be for this time. Years did not always grant her adequate replies for the things her thoughts dredged up. Insecurities would lance her during times alone like this, like part of her thought she was stepping out of line for wanting to fix somepony else and aid them with their problems.
Being a good pony — the whole wash, rinse, and repeat — was her most consistent countermeasure. To be able to see how much happier and better off ponies were because of her quieted the doubtful, hideous thoughts.
(Most of the time.)
(After all this time, weren't those the very things that were supposed to work? She pushed the mantra to be better than one was yesterday, all slathered in good cheer, to anypony who set hoof within five kingdoms of her, no matter how Luna said it held no merit. And she dedicated her life to this idea of forever-beginnings and goodness and big-letter ideas about Deserving so why didn't it work how could it not what kindness could not banish what grew...)
Long ago, a single pony was no more than an unassuming colt and battered servant who hid a nature found only in the vilest of grown evils, if Luna, Sombra, and Cadance were to be believed entirely. Onyx grew to do something terrible beyond anything Celestia could have ever imagined him to do, and on his path to destruction, he tormented somepony personally. In the Crystal Empire, he and Sombra were together. Had that been better or worse than being alone for the demon? Even when they cursed his name, were slaves better 'subjects' than none at all for Sombra?
Of all the things that he could not see, the obvious circle of those who championed him was not what she expected somepony with Sombra's ego to overlook. Even though some ponies in his life only extended a much less conflicted attitude of tolerance toward him, Sombra was still supported for who he really was, especially by Luna and Cadance, no matter what he did. When he made mistakes or even spoke of his various crimes and the darker aspects of himself, as he did to Luna, he wasn't turned away. Sombra was a stallion who could stew in such obvious imperfections, knowing that those close to him knew and accepted them.
Such a thing was very enviable.
(Not that you would ever tell him that.)
Sombra needed to admit to what happened to him, for the safety of those around him and for himself. Especially when he had only been faced with support and acceptance in the past.
Swirling the nib of her pen in ink one last time, Celestia added one final addition to her notes before she closed the gloomy textbook of eerie, painful experiences.
To-do:
Ask anypony close to Sombra about his habits. They might have clues on how to talk to him better. The more final confirmation they can offer, the better prepared I can be. Somepony might already know something that could make conversation with him go much more smoothly! Luna has offered the things that upset him, but I fail to see how any but unwanted touch could crop up when I sit him down to talk.
1. Cadance. Her next visit will be soon, and Sombra will most likely be in charge of Skyla. I can certainly pull her away for a few questions; she's always willing to talk about something. If anypony will offer me anything easily, she will. Next to Luna, I cannot think of who else would be closer to Sombra.
2. Shining Armor. If anypony would recognize a behavioral sign in Sombra, it is Shining.
3. Dissy. He had to be able to draw some odd answers out of Sombra with odder questions at some point. When there's anything unusual about somepony, he's usually always the first to know.
4. Blueblood. He and Sombra speak with one another sometimes, and Bluey does know how to spot when something or somepony is out of order better than most ponies.
5. Anypony else would be too much. Somepony might start saying something unkind if I asked too carelessly and frequently. May what I have found be good enough to get some help and answers.
...
Blueblood hadn't provided her with much in terms of information other than how he mentioned Sombra was more likely to talk with Shining Armor around. That intrigued her and held promise. Going out of the way to write a letter just for Shining to ask him about Sombra was too close to appearing odd when she was trying to present her behavior as done under her usual mask of leisure. Everypony knew that Sombra's 'reformation' was unlike the more high-profile and greatly prioritized ones of Luna and Dissy.
She really had best wait until Shining Armor visited again.
Unfortunately, Celestia thought, considering the gazebo awaiting her, he doesn't visit as often as he should.
As much as she knew that she was very likely going to be posing her questions to each pony a few weeks or so apart, it wasn't anything she liked. This was not out of impatience, heavens forbid anypony actually attribute such a thing to her when it was so strongly her opposite. To exhibit any real delay here felt no different than if she was personally permitting a fuse attached to Sombra to burn.
Vivid foliage was scattered across the rose garden stretching before her and hiding cobbles from her hooves. To keep the rose-bushes from being truly barren were how the leaves of rich gold, orange, and scarlet were caught in the thorns and snagged in the tangles of ivy creeping up the stately marble gazebo.
Cheerful song was tied to the same autumn breeze that swirled and caught Celestia's mane multiple times. The melody emanates clearly from the gazebo where a small amount of decorations were hung in anticipation for the coming holiday; a whole flock of fake bats dangled from the ivy. Around the columns were carved pumpkins bearing customary goddess silhouettes and other designs.
Thankfully, somepony else visits far more often.
Celestia recognized her niece's singing; few would belt the songs of the Starmare with such gusto.
"Cadance?" Celestia called, noting a familiar sky-blue aura stream out from within the gazebo's confines, hanging another Nightmare Night creepy creature. "Cadance?" Celestia repeated, trying to make her call rise above her niece's song. "Would you like some help?"
Bracing for a reply consisted of basking in the glorious autumn day and feeling her expression slip into something more hesitant.
When she thought of ponies that she held in uncertain trust, Cadance was never supposed to be one of those ponies. Now doubt ran deep and the very pony that Celestia had always considered trusting to a fault couldn't be trusted as personally as she had once been. Not with how connected she and Sombra were.
There was a reason she had a Faithful Student and not a Faithful Niece.
In all her preparation for spending time with Cadance, she had managed to convince herself that the risk of word reaching the wrong pony, or anything being taken the wrong way was a low one.
And she loathed having to think of her own niece this way.
"Sure!" chirped Cadance, poking out from the gazebo and waving for Celestia to draw nearer to her. "C'mon, Auntie! These cobwebs aren't going to hang themselves!"
Relenting, Celestia strolled over and took the fake cobwebs that Cadance pushed in her direction, encircling it in yellow aura.
She returned a ghost of the wide, white grin Cadance showed her and fell into the rhythm her niece had been maintaining as she spun out the cobwebs. Celestia noted how Cadance's curls had grown out again to the point where they could be gathered in a bunch and piled atop her head. Some that escaped the confines of her candy-corn patterned scrunchy had newer streaks of black dye in them.
"Sooo, whatcha going to be doing this Nightmare Night?" Cadance swayed happily on her long legs, pulsing with a perkiness that flowed into Celestia's own calm demeanor.
"Hmm, I was going to be a desert queen and see how keen Dissy is on being a djinn."
A small squeal emitted from Cadance. "Aww, you two always have the best couple's costumes!"
Celestia allowed herself to indulge in a sensible chuckle.
"Adorable, but completely unfair. Seriously."
"I think you give me too much credit. Luna's costumes deserve far more spotlight than mine — she bothers to stay in character."
"You just don't give yourself enough credit, Auntie! Who cares about staying in character when you're the best good witch in all of Equestria!"
The smile stayed stuck fast to her muzzle. "Being a wicked witch is too hard. Though, if we're going to be talking about costumes, what are you and Shining going to be?"
Cadance reached her magic back to ruffle her curls. "These aren't just for show this time! The crystal ponies still haven't gotten Nightmare Night yet, so we're having a costume ball. They sure like those. I'll be going as a pastel goth, Shiny is getting Twily's help to make an a-maaaa-zing Termineightor costume, and Skyla's gonna be an adorable little siren. Please tell me that'll keep me from being outdone by Luna and Sombra again. I can't let them beat me two years in a row!"
"Well..." Celestia tugged faux cobwebs around a column.
"C'mon Auntie, gimme some reconnaissance."
"Perhaps I'll exchange that information if we can have a chat about a few things."
Cadance offered a few blinks of mild surprise. "About anything in particular?"
"I just wanted to know a few things about Sombra. It would help me with his reformation." She tucked a loose strand of her flowing mane behind her ear. "We have been spending a lot of time together, and sometimes I still feel lost in my interactions with him. You have called him a friend far longer than I have. Pointers and answers from you would just be very helpful."
While hanging a string of firefly lanterns, Cadance considered Celestia's smile. "Sure! Let me know about those costumes first. Please, Auntie!"
"I was informed," Celestia began slowly, her tone carrying a teasing edge knowing that Cadance wanted this information so badly, "that Sombra will be dressing up as one of those most ancient varieties of northern, Old World warriors — the ones with woad-patterned coats, dark-rimmed eyes, and crystal-bladed axes."
"Oh my gosh! Sombra's going as a Crystalline defender? Ugh, of course, he was going to use his knowledge of my nation's history against me one day. And for a Northstallion costume! Most of the stories about Queen Sapphira's era are too distant to be anything more than deep history, y'know? A style of warrior fades compared to an Alicorn queen and Goddess of Sanctuary, et cetera, and all that. Divine titles are weird, but if there's anything I need to be worried about, it's that one of the few stallions I know who can rock guyliner is going to be going all-out with it for Nightmare Night!"
(Probing at Celestia and nagging her from the depths of repressed and deteriorated memory was something to prod past the geasan. The name Cadance mentioned sounded familiar and brought with it an echo of youth: had she not heard tales about a multi-domained goddess, Sapphira Adora, before?)
"Luna told me that she is going to be his, ah, what are the mares called again?"
"Shieldmaidens?"
"Yes, those."
"I think I can compete with that," Cadance muttered, muzzle crinkling as she worked. "This year's photo album is going to be spectacular to see in the mail. If you could stick some bubble stickers on our copy, Skyla will be overjoyed. They keep giving her them for all her good test grades and she's obsessed. I'm gonna lose my mind if I have to peel any more of those things off the super-sacred Crystalline reliefs around the castle."
Chortling, Celestia stretched one of her wings and swatted at Cadance's curls with a stroke of her feathers. "How funny that is coming from the filly who used to write song lyrics over every surface she could."
"Hey, that was different!"
"I think not," Celestia chided. "I still have photos of the Fall Out Colt phase, you know." Another swat to Cadance's mane was delivered. "That's what the black reminded me of."
"Auntieeee!" Cadance whined, horror flashing in her purple eyes.
"I still have the pictures~!" Celestia sing-songed. "I wonder what Sombra would think of those?"
"He'd torment me forever!" By accident Cadance's magic flared with her wide-eyed worry, resulting in a tuft of cobwebs getting flung upon the older mare, nearly dampening her magic. "I could never live that down! Never ever!"
"No need to fret—"
She was swiftly interrupted by an astonished squeak-gasp that felt like it was reverberating throughout the whole gazebo, disrupting the steady calm of autumn. "My honor was just threatened!"
Celestia sighed softly, clearing her throat when she saw that Cadance had recovered from the slight. "About Sombra... haven't you ever had any second thoughts about him and Skyla interacting?"
"Nope!" Cadance stood with more certainty than Celestia was used to seeing from her. "He's helped her out a lot, especially with all the reading they've done together. Skyla's reading skills are better than anypony else's in her class, and she loved the summer reading program here that Sombra got her involved in — the one at the library I used to take Twily to. Plus, he foalsits for free. The teachers are saying she's probably gifted already!"
"Do they know for sure? And how are you not worried about her if there are no guards assigned to her classroom?"
Biting her lip, Cadance shook her head in a firm 'no' that left her mane swaying even when his head was still. "The schools of the Empire... still leave some things to be desired. I want her to go to a gifted school, but their gifted exams are literally ancient. Getting her tested here in Equestria might be better for her — y'know the older stallion who tested Twilight for you? Is he still around? Do you think you could send a letter to him for me? And no, I'm not worried; there are guards stationed outside her school."
Celestia looked down upon Cadance with a pointed, reluctant glance. Faithful Students and a younger Cadance almost always had guards following them in youth. Twilight wasn't able to attend some of her supplementary classes at Celestia's school without various guards outside classes, in halls, and in other places. "I could do that, but do you really think having her change schools at such a young age is such a good idea? Hasn't she made any friends she'll miss?"
"Better sooner than later," Cadance recited with a calm tilt of her head. "That filly needs the best Shiny and I can do for her, and a gifted school feels right. Keeping her somewhere where she won't be challenged feels so wrong. She hasn't made any friends yet; you can't really blame her, eh? School has only been in for a little over a month; I'm sure if she goes to a school with foals more like her, she'll be able to get Twily to help her start up a cute book club or something. Then she'll have some friends!"
"I don't know," Celestia murmured, "most fillies her age find fast friends."
"Twilight didn't have any real friends until you kicked her out of the castle," Cadance chimed, giggling.
"Nopony's been making fun of her, have they?"
"A little," Cadance admitted, rubbing her regalia-free neck with a forehoof. "Skyla says that they've been calling her bossy at recess sometimes — and she is kinda bossy, but she's not mean, just well-spoken for her age."
"Goodness, how could a little filly like her really be bossy of all things?"
"I think she gets it from watching Sombra and Shiny," Cadance shrugged. "It's not as bad as when the other foals call her 'Sommy'. Not all of them can get the '-kyla' in her name to come out right, so they get 'Sommy' outta 'Somber', knowing she doesn't like it."
"You don't feel Sombra's a bad influence on her?"
"No, Auntie." There was a hint of Mom Exasperation in Cadance's answer. "She calls him 'Grunkle Kitty' for pony's sake. He lets her cover him in stickers. Like, the worst things she's done are knock over a vase that I'm pretty sure was haunted and describe skip-rope as 'badass' 'cause she heard Shiny say that once."
Celestia was quiet for a moment, letting the autumn breeze stir the plethora of wind chimes that were the gazebo's usual decoration. "What are you going to do when Skyla finds out everything that happened in the Crystal Empire?"
Eventually, Cadance said: "Can we talk about something else Sombra-related?"
She must not have any plan. Or, perhaps I hit a sore spot. "If that is what you wish. What about his 'match' then? You've never really spilled your secret on why you set him and Luna up with one another."
Cadance giggled, swished her tail through the air, and gave a circular little skip of delight. The melodic sound was one Celestia recognized as her niece's matchmaker snicker. "Luna was so frustratingly difficult when it came to my plans."
Celestia nodded in agreement, neglecting to mention that Cadance's plans did include a few binders stuffed with profiles that she liked to pull out and review to ensure optimal pairings.
"I always kept the thought of a romance for her in the back of my mind — when it comes to everypony who is so quick to be thought unmatchable by most matchmaker's standards, I'm never going to give them that kind of treatment. Luna was one of those ponies that was a personal project. After I knew Sombra for a while, he had mentioned a few things that snapped everything together — an 'ah-ha!' moment, yah?"
Mentioned what, precisely? Celestia did not speak those words, sure that the look she gave Cadance said them well enough.
Another giggle rang from Cadance as she set a family of fake spiders along the gazebo's side, making Celestia shiver and ruffle her wings. "Oh, y'know. I thought they would get along!" Cadance's mane swished as giddily as her words sounded. "Gosh, it was so much one of those 'I have a single friend I need to introduce you to' moments."
Celestia felt herself nodding again. "That truly sounds so simple. How do they fare compared to your other matches, hmm?"
"They're easily among the cutest and the happiest of those I've matched. Hasn't Luna just come alive since?"
"Mmm," Celestia offered non-committedly.
"Getting her to talk used to be harder than pulling teeth! Gosh, her fake smiles are sooo bad too — I know I saw a few at my wedding, even if she didn't mean it. I'm no expert, but wasn't she depressed — like, actually depressed? I never really asked, but some things she used to say... just really made it seem like she was."
"Y-Yes," Celestia admitted, unable to draw her eyes to Cadance. "I'm glad to see she's doing much better."
The taste of reflex was upon that addition too much for Celestia to feel anything but self-disappointment causing her stomach to clench. How could her mind mean one thing and her heart be brimming with such contradiction? Were her words not good enough? Too rehearsed? How could one even rehearse statements of care about their own foal's welfare?
"Anything else on your mind?"
"A few things," Celestia said, speaking each word with care as she stepped back to inspect her decorative efforts. "Merely behavioral inquiries."
A smile poked out from the forehoof Cadance raised, unable to muffle her snickering. "Always so formal, Auntie."
To muffle her own faint chuckle, Celestia ducked her head to the side in a gesture more reminiscent of her primmer motions around her subjects. "That may be so, but somepony has to be."
"Is there some habit of Sombra's that's been bothering you?" The look in Cadance's pale eyes grew dark with sudden worry — but was it for her auntie or her friend?
"Quite the opposite," Celestia said quickly, certain that her words held undeniable assurance. "I'm worried about him sometimes. You and Luna have had so much time to adjust to him and I... I think I'm still trying to figure things out."
"Aww, Auntie. It's okay." A gentle forehoof reached up to her wither to pat it faintly in time with Cadance's sympathetic words. "I'll tell you as much as I can! Cross my heart! Just try and talk to him about this sorta thing; that's how I got used to things."
Faint gold aura wove its way through the air to replace the faux spiders somewhere farther from where Celestia spoke with her niece. If anything could be done to trouble her mind less, to keep those out of sight and on the other end of the gazebo was always a start. "He's far more anxious than I would have expected."
Despite the nugget of fearfulness rooted in her tone, there was an enormous lie slathered boldly in her words: Sombra was difficult and even if Luna described him as suffering from anxiety, that was not something she could see in him. Was he fearful when confronted with the stimuli she would expect to upset him — especially in hindsight of some of her past actions? Yes, absolutely.
But if anxiety was anything, it was something easier to understand and a hook for sympathetic ponies, on which they could heap their welling concerns.
Confused, Cadance blinked. "I dunno about anxious being the right word. He's lived basically all the horror novels I binged as a foal, and if that didn't mess him up, then what's supposed to?"
What struck the princess immediately after how insensitive Cadance's wording could come across was the implication that Cadance wasn't fully aware of the traumas of her friend. (Not that she could blame her niece, that stallion was still rife with deception in his nature.) To keep the information she divulged; there was hardly any reason to shock poor Cadance. (And there was even less reason to potentially lead to Sombra being bombarded with discomfort in the form of an over-emotional pink demigod overflowing with concern.)
(Could things be so tangled that Sombra wouldn't even fully alert his friends to what he suffers?)
There was a sharp internal sensation straight in Celestia's thoughts, causing her to draw up quickly and smooth things over with a seamless smile and a soft, tension-banishing chortle. (Must you ignore your own observations driving into yourself so?) "I think he'd loathe to be compared to a horror novel, for one. Speaking of traumas, though, I had been talking about triggering things with Luna some time ago. If you happened to know anything..."
She gave Cadance a pointed look not unlike a mother would offer a child when they needed to poke a certain response free with no words, but weren't going to worry a young mind with unwarranted sternness when a calm prompt would suffice.
And suffice it did! Purple eyes twinkled with immediate understanding. "No coffee! That's a big one! He used to be kind of okay with having stuff—"
"Stuff?" Celestia echoed, arching a brow knowingly and swishing her voluminous tail.
"Caffeine and—"
"Cannabis?" suggested Celestia.
"Yep. There are these mercenaries he knows too — some are pretty odd, but they help him out, and it's worth the family discount he gives—"
"That's very kind of him," Celestia smiled, tone light as she drove the stake of conversation where she wanted the topic to remain, and to keep Cadance from rambling. "But are you sure that he—?"
"Uh, yah," Cadance interrupted, twirling some of her ponytail's curls with distracted flicks and winds of her magic. "I was the one who suggested it as a stable way for him to get some bits. He wasn't one to use much himself, and definitely not often. Just his style, I guess." Cadance shrugged. "Though, I don't blame him — that magic sense of his makes everything insane."
"Excuse me?" Celestia nearly perked her whole self forward with alertness. "His magic sense? Just how would that impact—"
Licking her lips in thought, Cadance gave one long hum, letting her eyes roam. "Let me see if I can explain this well; because Sombra can process magic in ways that you and I can't, and 'cause it's a freaky cool core sense of his, anything that makes his head foggy makes his body register anything weird too. Luna says it means he can perceive 'certain variations of intoxication' at a 'bodily level' and some other stuff you'd have to ask her about. She said it has to do with his brain processing stuff, but personally I just think it's way better to think of things like a sense transplant: imagine if you could taste with your skin! That's what I think sounds best."
Everything about the mental image of a 'sense transplant' Cadance had been so kind to paint had Celestia glad she was wearing horseshoes and that nothing was currently touching her.
(Very glad.)
"He's had an episode because of this, then?"
Worry shot across Cadance's face and she bowed her head, rubbing a forehoof at her neck. "Once. That was the only time I've really seen him shaken like that. He was seeing something that made him seize up and..." A whimper escaped her. "I'd never seen him like that up close... He gasped and shouted at things that weren't there all of a sudden. If Luna hadn't been around to snap him out of that with magic and stuff, I dunno what I would've done. Sombra always told me that he didn't see anything too weird, just the kinda stuff that made burning trash more interesting, y'know? Or he'd usually just go on about these craaazy-cool ideas, rambling all about airships in space and crystals, but used for talking. All in all, some really wild stuff."
Wild indeed, Celestia thought, a familiar incredulous tone tapping at her thoughts. Why, not even the wildest reaches of science fiction had anything like an airship that could breach the skies as Cadance described.
"Shh, that wasn't your fault." Gold light wove through Cadance's curls with light taps. "You and Luna were there for him when he needed you to be. Isn't that what matters?"
"I know, I know," Cadance said, voice gaining a fretful burst. "It just shouldn't have happened, and whatever he saw really upset him. We went from hanging out to him freaking out like the flash of a spell! Seeing somepony as proud as he is take a blow like that hurts like a feather flu headache times a hundred."
Celestia decided it was the emotion in her niece's words that carried something peculiar enough to stand out to her. Her expression softened and she gave the younger mare a look brimming with distant concern. "Why is that?"
A dejected shrug prefaced Cadance's reply. "Doesn't matter if ponies sometimes tell me 'oh, he's the asshole friend'. So what? He's my family and it's still one time that we did something that led to him getting hurt. Water's meant to be wet, Twily's meant to read, and Sombra's supposed to be a maniacally proud weirdo. That's worth admiring y'know?"
The surprise that flashed across Celestia's face quicker than she could prevent it made Cadance finally look up again, breaking out in a kind, almost relieved smile.
"You admire Sombra?"
"Oh, just a little." A gleeful swish of her mane accompanied Cadance putting a dance in her gait as she nudged a windswept cobweb back into place.
"And why is that?"
"'Cause he's a goofy jerk that's there when I need him to be? Seriously, I don't think I could legally refuse his presence in a crisis. One day I'm going to use that to my advantage. All those little growls, voice tricks, and weird noises he can make? I'm just going to replace my synthesizer with him and everypony's gonna be so jealous. "
"You admire him because he... belligerently remains in your company and can outdo one of your instruments?"
"You betcha!"
Patience settled over Celestia as she waited for the follow-up.
"Gosh," Cadance began, voice lowering. "I'm so sorry if this sounds mean... the thing I admire Sombra most for is how he's self-made."
Mounting concern rose in Celestia as Cadance's gaze fell again. (And it occurred to her that Cadance calling Sombra self-made sounded like the opposite of his origins; what say did that demon have in his creation?)
"When I became a demigoddess, the whole world just became a lot more mythical. I didn't come from that kind of magic, and it couldn't have made me feel more out of place. Just a nagging inadequacy that liked to resurface and nip at me. Twily's always been such a brilliant mare. Shiny graduated from military school with high marks and honed talent. You could sell an icebox to one of my subjects and are a heavens-moving goddess. Luna is everything straight out of the sagas of the gods. She and Shiny are the bravest ponies I know. I know all of you still had to work for things, but..."
"And Sombra...?"
Cadance considered the question with a pivot, the start of her words spinning with her. "Sombra's a lot like me. We did everything without being really prodigious or amazingly magical in the same way everypony else was. Nopony knew me before I turned Prismia's life around. Before he forced his body back together — and okay, don't tell him but that's metal in hindsight — nopony knew who Sombra was. He made himself tough, smart, and stubborn."
"And you, my niece, have made yourself a fine listener, peacemaker, and mentor in your own right."
"Thank you, Auntie." Bubbly became bashful as Celestia's praise sank in. "Sombra has an infectious kind of confidence to him, and I know you and he don't see eye to eye on a lot, but it really has helped. I don't feel that inadequacy like I used to or like the third — er, fourth? — wheel princess to you, Luna, and Twi. Having my empire helps too — and I'm so sorry if this sounds too morbid, Sombra taught me the phrase, but for a while, it felt like we were drawing and quartering ourselves as princesses."
Any analogy to such a cruel torture of old produced a wince from her, and this time was no exception. (How could it be when she had lived through ages when such acts had been normal?) "I'm uncertain I can understand where you are coming from with this, Cadance. Could you please elaborate? Is this about Twilight's ascension?"
"No, no not that. Twi's ascension was fantastic. I think the best way to bring this up was how things were with Tirek. It feels like something of those vibes is in the meetings I manage to make, too. There were four of us, and I know we gave Twily such a confidence boost and helped her out so much, but there was an underlying disharmony. I didn't know what to do. You planned everything, and I still think it's the best we could have done, but Luna's discontent was overlooked a lot, remember?"
"I do, but she did still see some merit in what I said — and we still defeated Tirek by my plan."
"Kind of? Twi was supposed to hide the magic, but that's beside the point. I just remember that a lot of our planning was you having to convince Luna to go along with things... and I just felt like all I could do was listen. Ancient evils weren't exactly my specialty. Only when I realized how untrained my own little sister was in princess anything did I feel less like the still-new princess. All four of us are so drastically different and not, y'know, seasonal harmony different. For the first time, things started to feel so cluttered with four princesses with four of everything that just... wasn't mixing."
A smoothed look of her own uncertain display of Auntie Sympathy was all Celestia thought to give. None of these were concerns that had been unvoiced throughout the years, even if they were not spoken quite as they were now. Hugs and other gestures would feel so vastly inappropriate right now, even when the younger mare in front of her contained such a palpable disappointment, not unlike that of a filly's.
"It sounds like the Crystal Empire has been quite the breathing room for you," Celestia observed, wanting Cadance to feel a nugget of positivity in the words instead of her own distant worries. Just what had Cadance been deciding way up north? Did it have to do with the often glacial pace of Crystalline-Equestrian colonial cultural integrations? Or how there was still a much more limited amount of trust that could now be placed in somepony she had once held so closely under her wing and had adoptive claims upon?
No, she wanted Cadance to see what she said as veering toward implications of wisdom. Cadance, who held an upbeat nature that Celestia knew she had once possessed in dense earnesty a long time ago, was somepony she never had to doubt relying on in the past. She and Twilight were two peas in a junior princess pod, growing and flourishing as the sun guided them.
"Absolutely, Auntie. Skyla's the only force of chaos in the whole Crystal Empire now." Seeing a sunny grin brightening Cadance's face again was all that Celestia needed to shove her worries to the back of her mind. "Sometimes, there's nothing to do but think about things. I'm surrounded by ponies who adore me. I want my ponies to keep having a reason to see me that way, and never take advantage of their adoration."
"And that is a noble aim, fit for any princess and niece of mine," Celestia said, offering an approving tilt of her head and a well-practiced smile. Soft puffs of autumn wind brushed her coat coolly, rattling the decorations they had dutifully arranged most affirmingly.
All in all, the darkness at the edge of Celestia's thoughts regarding Sombra had shrunk there to lurk, sated by Cadance's information. Meanwhile, the tranquil season only managed to cast a spell of comfort and peace. The very Equestria that had been thriving as a permanent ideal before the last few years was now unmistakably surrounding her, tantalizing her mercilessly. This was the sense of the Equestria she always wanted to bury all that was rotten, so it might bloom into something that had promised to be everlasting in its innocence.
That was what her Equestria was meant to be, and it was the very Equestria she felt was fading, however gradually. At least, in her heart, there was the unwelcome change brought to her land.
"Hey Auntie, since you got your share of Sombra questions, I think it's my turn for some inquiries, huh?"
Celestia laughed politely. "Oh? Like what?"
"You're asking left and right about Uncle Sombra and Auntie Luna's love life, and that's only half the romance in this castle! This Princess of Love needs some news! Gimme gossip! How's the force of chaos in your life doing?"
A short laugh far more delightful left Celestia. "Oh, Dissy and I? Well, now that you ask..."
...
There was a goofy, almost casual grin lurking somewhere below Shining Armor's polite smile. Why, it was as obvious as the gusts of wind that toyed with the plush scarf he wore. Knitted snowflakes were arranged in geometric patterns the princess had come to recognize as distinctly Crystalline. "You don't have to conjure anything just for me, princess."
She smiled warmly at him, the faintest chill able to get past her coat. "You should know by now to call me 'auntie'. Or should I simply call you 'nephew'?"
"Er, sorry, Aunt Celestia." He offered a sheepish smile and accepted the mug of cider she so graciously levitated to him. Curls of steam immediately brushed against his cheeks. "Is there any reason you wanted to talk to me in particular?"
"Mhm," she affirmed, idly taking a long sip from her own drink now that Shining had his own to sample as he wished.
"Really?" Magenta magic plucked at a few stray locks of his unruly blue mane. "I've never really done anything reformation related, though. I don't have any deep insight into the offer on demon training."
After hearing everypony refer to Sombra with mere titles and anything that captured what ponies knew about him — everything that wasn't damning enough to draw Sombra or Luna's worst attentions or what he actually was — Shining Armor being both aware and oddly brazen enough to call Sombra what he was made her swallow awkwardly. "Yes, yes, and I'm not as accustomed to them as you might think. Sombra has been quite the obligation, and his unruliness isn't the brand I've seen in students, nor have I ever been personally tasked with reforming an individual."
Shining blinked and gulped audibly, and the surprise that flashed in his eyes was close enough to a foal's when they learned the Tooth Breezie was as fictitious as Snowfall Frost.
"Is something the matter?" Celestia asked calmly, sipping at her cider again. She blinked, coolly letting her mane's lazy flow be decided by the winds buffeting the castle balcony.
"Consider me surprised, Aunt Celestia. I..." Shining searched for his next words with a thoughtful scratch of his mane. "I always expect somepony who has lived as long as you have to have nearly everything checked off. I guess that was pretty presumptive of me."
At his friendly laugh, Celestia took another long drink. "I suppose you're also calling me old, too."
"Er, those weren't my intentions—"
"I kid, Shining. Now, before the weather ponies decide to deter from the schedule and send some chillier weather to nip at us, I was expecting to get on with some questions. If we're lucky, I'm certain we'll wrap things up before my mane goes gray."
"Can your mane even go gray?"
"Ah, no. Now, would you say you know Sombra well?"
Shining's ears flicked. "I know him well enough to let him watch Skyla."
"He's not an intrusion, then?"
"The guy's a lunatic, but he's a lunatic that can keep ants on a log from getting stuck in her mane and feathers. So, no, not exactly. I'm just surprised he talks to her as much as he does. Always struck me as more of a loner overall."
"Are you meaning to tell me... you haven't really heard Sombra talk? If that is so, Shining, then I can assure you he's more antisocial than he is shy. In fact, Sombra can be very..." She pursed her lips, offering only it to show there was something of an issue, and nothing more of that part of matters would be spoken of. "defiant."
"Of course he is. I think that if a dragon ate him, he'd outright refuse to be digested." Shining held his merry little grin, bearing his chatty energy with ease. "I suppose I know something about Sombra that you don't, huh?"
"Perhaps," Celestia mumbled into her drink, trying to focus on the sky just behind the tall stallion's ears. As troublesome as Sombra has proved he can be if Shining has enough to really enrich the simple supplements I've gained from speaking with the others, I might know enough to be of real help.
(...Was that really the best she could do? The obvious in-between-a-rock-and-a-hard-place thinking that only let her know how much she was crushed between the Prince Problem and the serious reality of just what had been going on under her muzzle? Could she not want to ease some suffering without some part of her demanding she justify simple kindness if this was the feeling of justification at all? A quality she treasured now carried a distant tinge of familiar guilt at the thought of helping somepony. Without a doubt, she was doing the right... a very nice thing... must she still be unable to describe Sombra in any definite way?)
(Convincing herself that she bore a curse that made her unable to express any purely kind words to Sombra was a less bitter pill to swallow.)
Regardless of what Blueblood had described of Sombra's odd speaking habits, Shining echoing the sentiment still stirred her surprise.
"Every time I've gone anywhere with him or been near him, I think about Twily."
"Because of their past incidents?"
"No, not at all. Certain ways he acts kinda remind me of how Twily didn't talk to anypony but family before she knew you and Cady. Selective mutism is what it's called, right?"
"I don't think I see the parallel you do. Twilight was a different case, and selective mutism isn't something I see in a lot of adult ponies." Though, Luna did have it… "He isn't unable to speak, I'm sure he just doesn't wish to, no?"
Shining considered her words with an obvious, thoughtful tilt of his head. "He sure is, but the level of not silence he goes to isn't one I've seen before, 'cause he'll act almost like he actually can't talk. Just walking around with him can produce no conversation at all. Blueblood, him, and I will go out somewhere and he won't look angry, bored, or upset. He just shadows us and doesn't say anything, or he will only talk to me. Especially if it's just us — the contrast blows my mind, too. One day the guy might say, I dunno, fifteen words and the next he'll be all brazen and chatty."
"And he's never... disorganized about this?"
"Erm," Shining's muzzle crinkled, and his hoof-taps sounded across the balcony, "not really. I wouldn't even call him anxious. As I said, he just shadows things, and that's generally just what he feels like. I'm not calling him impaired, but there's absolutely nopony else I've known or heard of that does this. Most ponies can still talk to ponies they don't like; he almost can't, or he'll only barely do it. Tartarus knows, he'll even let his regular jokes just stop for no reason and pick 'em up tomorrow like nothing happened. One day he'll do the 'where's the punchline' kinda bit if he, Blueblood, and I are just out at a bar. He never gets Blueblood's name right, either. Horseapples, if he calls him 'Blueberry' or 'Blarpglarp' one more time, I think Blue's going to melt."
"Do you think he has a hard time talking?"
"Not at all! He's charismatic — and not exactly somepony to cross, so there's no way in Tartarus he's uncomfortable."
I don't think that would be true. Could it? I've certainly observed his discomfort before... particularly during some of our conversations. "How can you be so sure of that?"
"Intuition, I suppose." Shining's head was held a little higher. "I've investigated, interrogated, and observed my fair share of ponies, Aunt Celestia. Odd sorts crop up — Sombra is a special kind of 'odd' sort, though. When I was fresh out of my academy, I had to work as a recruiter in public high schools temporarily because some of my superiors thought younger soldiers would help even younger ponies see what they wanted to become. Certain kinds of seniors we were instructed not to speak with, and some were for more negative reasons than others. We just called ponies who were the latter 'odd' — it was inoffensive enough to throw around. I know that if he were younger, I could say Sombra would be a delinquent-y type. Heck, I imagine he was something like that as, ah... are young demons still called foals? Would 'gremlin' work better?"
Celestia could only give a light laugh at the absurdity of the term. "Seeing as neither of us can really ask him, I'm sure that will suffice. I must say, it does sound like you have given this a lot of thought."
Shining Armor's sudden smile disappeared so quickly that Celestia could note without doubt the ease into a more deceptively serious tone with her last observation she could've declared that it 'popped'. "I know he's doing okay as a prince, so I don't mean to sound—"
"No need to worry, Shining. I'm well aware you meant no harm. I do think that you should be able to see that is why I wanted to talk to you, my nephew. Your observation shows me you do have some insight I don't. What is it that makes you feel thinking of Sombra as younger — and young enough to be called a delinquent — helps you understand something about him?"
The last of Shining Armor's cider was drained, and he licked his lips thoughtfully. "Horseapples, I never really thought about how to explain it to anypony else."
"Oh, there's no need to worry." She offered an encouraging smile and waved a hoof with dismissive ease. If she had a bit for every instance of somepony's hesitance to speak to her or some similar act of humility and self-deprecation, there was little doubt in her mind that she could by the infinite, hellish span of Tartarus twice over.
"Cadance had so much to explain about them when I learned they were friends. One thing she stressed so much was that he was a colt. Yeah, I know it sounds weird, but Cady was clear that stallion was a colt. A real colt. I mean, he was still a demon, I guess. But Aunt Celestia, she told me he was, like, twelve. Blue's always yapping about he's such a 'inscrutable bloke' or whatever he's snatched off some word-a-day calendar and I can't help but think about what could've happened."
Celestia felt her chest clench, her mind registering the body's sensation of surprise in the semi-detached every-part of her.
Now I'm getting somewhere, as she felt it with that subtly held breath that came from her firmly-rooted porcelain face to her core. The very same core was all tied up with knots of conflict. Most relevant to this particular encounter — which she slid through with practice and far-away emotions playing their parts well — was the detachment of surprise. How it suspended somewhere. Were it to swing to the left, she would know a routine as worn as any road: yes, she was getting somewhere.
And why? To lay things out simply, she had been here before. Splitting hairs over conversations so lax in the constructed atmosphere in order to extract a few unsuspecting details was something she managed with all the care she could. Such situations always gave her the brief plunging sensation of just how familiar they were before Celestia was reminded of how such conversations held the authentic quality as a half-silvered mirror offered total privacy.
To the other side of her pendulum of hesitation, she had a feeling most opposite: if she had not done this before, she would eventually. What sounded like every mid-life crisis cure was perhaps one of the closest things Celestia found to a non-magical curse: that a mare like herself who yearned to change and exchanged so much about herself, her life, and her home was faced with the knowledge if she hadn't heard the conversation she anticipated, in this instance, then the chance she would one day increased substantially because of her occupation and as a result of her lifespan.
(Of course, she was well-aware and decently reassured of the impossibilities. The supposedly innocent que sera, sera thankful fell flat for enough, whether it be a betrayal she never had to count on, or something with no sinister implications.)
"What might that be?" Celestia said softly, refilling her cup with a swirl of magic. The faintest ache pulsed with protest around her horn, but she passed the discomfort off as a blink of attentiveness. Shining's words would be the swing: either he might unknowingly tell her something familiar, thinking it new, or he would do just the opposite.
"Twelve-year-old demons can't be that much different than twelve-year-old ponies. Can they?" He looked at her like he wanted an answer, but gave her no chance to say anything. "Anything terrible that happened to him isn't going to be that different if it happened to Twily or anypony when they're that young."
Unsure of how to ease Shining's thoughts into something less troubling, Celestia stared down at her drink. She was aware of how the momentary pause drained the levity from their chat and only made it easier for the chill to sink in.
"Does this pity mean you forgive him?"
Shining's pupils shrank before she finished, and like any proper soldier, he was quick to respond. "Not at all. I'm not even sure if it's pity, and not to be blunt, but I don't really care. Sombra's not a good demon by a long shot. I still wouldn't wish whatever screwed him up on anypony."
"Bluey mentions little about Sombra beyond his disposition, so I'm afraid that I feel a bit left in the dark on what you feel is wrong with him. I'm aware he is odd with food, mixing things and making weird combinations, like pineapple on pizza—"
Shining cleared his throat awkwardly.
"Oh, I apologize." She gave Shining a small, sheepish smile meant to tease. "Make no mistake with how Blueblood is fearful at how anypony can mix ketchup and carrot bread and still find it good; he has been very vocal about that component of his Sombra-related distress. Don't you think anypony would be?"
"Yes," Shining said slowly, "I don't forgive him, okay? I don't hate him, either. He wouldn't get to watch Skyla if I did."
He sighed, breath puffing out in a cloud. Celestia distantly observed how the air drifted, and how unfocused Shining was, looking out into the distance. Concentrating.
"Shining Armor, is something wrong?"
"No, Cele—"
"Auntie," she corrected.
"No, Aunt Celestia." His mouth expression slipped. "At least, I don't think anything is."
"...Did you have a bad memory with Sombra I didn't know about...? If so, I do apologize and we can—"
"That's the thing," Shining said, "I have memories of him being crabby and meanish. I know he's done bad things, but none of my interactions with him have been that bad. He's not the worst in the world to talk to, yah? Sometimes he's almost like Twily, which is kinda funny, seeing how much they hate each other. And at the same time he's nothing like her. Nothing! It's crazy! I don't know anypony else who can come close to reciting as many digits of pi as Twily can, or just..."
"Just what...?"
Something about the quiet concern that spilled into her tone when she saw Shining's expression become perplexed again.
"How weird is it that I feel like I can connect to him? Even if it's just a little. We've had some time together that was actually nice."
"Oh, really?" Celestia murmured, wishing internally she had brought a scarf with her too. Fluttershy had recently made her a whole set of crotcheted goodies when sitting Qilin. Each had been generously decorated by the little kirin, and such a wrap would be welcome.
Her staunch efforts to pass off tailored noncommittal behavior as the geniality expected of her was almost shy in comparison to Shining's earnestness. He nodded eagerly, with an abundance of assurance she would not accept from herself.
"Absolutely. We have some shared interests — more than I do with Blue — which certainly wasn't anything I was expecting. The guy's not half-bad at defensive magics. He asks about guard history a lot, but I don't think I'm sating his curiousity much. I'm sure it's a boring thought that he and I just talk about the most normal things, but it's true. I've never had anypony ask me what fatherhood is like, though. He doesn't mind talking about music, travel, family, and cooking." Shining smiled. "Sombra's actually a pretty good cook — he helped me figure out an awesome cannoli recipe for Cady's birthday."
"Ah, so he has been using one of his skills for a good cause."
Shining snorted. "I'm still suspicious of some of his hobbies. Just don't underestimate how easily he can shift from being weird to... asking about Skyla's homework. The whole thing is crazy enough to make me doubt why I feel so bad for him sometimes."
Oh? It appears I've found what I need.
Holding up a forehoof, Shining speedily noted her surprise. "Like I said, when Blue isn't around, he'll open up some, or leave holes in conversation. He'll talk about something he did in crazy ancient times. Usually, it's something he learned or an isolated event. Now, if I ask him about his past, I'm suddenly talking to, uh, whatsit again?" One forehoof scratched at his head. "Black holes. I'm like a firefly lantern shining against one of those things. Dude's beyond a brick wall when I try to crack his shell on basic stuff."
"Is it about demon matters? If he's too touchy with that, I'll be glad to fill you in—"
"Pardon the interruption, Aunt Celestia, but that's not it. I'm talking about other things. Why he's a vegan, that's something he clammed up about. I know about the no-parents deal, and I figured maybe he made his own family forever ago. Asking about that or his summoner gets him to shut me down faster than Twily's friend makes her rainbooms."
"Hm, you still afford him sympathy when he treats you so?"
After adjusting his scarf, Shining Armor gave a tiny shrug. "He's touchy. Still, between the things Discord says to him and whatever traumatized him so much, can you really blame me?"
Celestia shook her head faintly, pressing her lips together. "Has Discord been up to anything I should know about? If he's been saying anything—"
"Discord is just..." Shining frowned with thought, "...very insensitive? When he drops by and Blue and Sombra are around he has these ways of teasing them. He'll poke and prod at them with remarks about how they... like stallions? Blue already tries to go for remarks at Sombra's expense, and whenever Discord poofs by he brings double the remarks, for double the stallions, to earn double the amount of glares from Sombra, and then doubly-insists he's in 'camp no homo' or whatever after launching into another really weird story about him and Ahuizotl—"
"Discord is bullying Sombra for being bisexual? I'm aware he finds novelty in the strangest things, but hurting somepony over something like that is unlike him!" Celestia's disappointment soaked into every aghast word. "And he's upsetting Blue too? I'll have to speak with him at once about—"
"No need to! Not with what you're thinking, at least. The guy's just being a huge noodle, and yeah, a dick too... I just don't think he's trying to be, and that he has some kinda double standard with how he sees them. Immature stuff, eh? About Sombra? I'm not sure what he is, just that he's not always subtle. He all but told me that I'm 'sort of cute but not his type' thing once. I think. He was being all weird and cryptic about it. Or probably just facetious. Honestly, Cady knows him better."
Celestia nodded absently. "What is it you think happened to him? He's fought in no wars, had no family to miseducate him, lacks any partners before Luna—"
"Wait, really?" Shining gulped a breath, the cloud of his previous exhale vanishing around him.
"Mhm."
"Huh, well he could've fooled me with the way he acted. I was under the impression he's been with others before and that he's so moony about Luna because he's sicker than a cutie-poxed timberwolf food of his ex. Gods — no offense — I wouldn't be surprised if that's why he... Listen, this won't make much sense to you, but after the invasion, it became easier to see a different side of ponies. Anypony who has been so personally hurt by somepony stands out to me like a sore hoof, even if I can't know what their story is. I see a connection like that with Sombra. Nothing corny or mushy, just mannerisms he has and things he says that—"
"...Make you suspect he was faced with something terrible from anypony in his past who had a personal connection with him?"
Shining's brow furrowed and his gaze dropped to his hooves. "No... no, I think there's something deeper than just closeness."
"Shining Armor," Celestia all but whispered, "do you think what happened to Sombra... might have been similar to what happened with you and Queen Chrysalis...?"
Those were magic words. Like any incantation or verse, she saw the eerie, almost supernatural effects. Just as soon as she had spoken, the balcony was plunged into a silence that squeezed at her. Shining's mouth hung open, slack and waiting for something he wasn't saying. Blue dimmed in his eyes, which shrank and looked right through her for just long enough to be ghostly, transforming the otherwise upbeat stallion with the broaching of unsavory memories.
"You know..." Shining said, pulling himself together with the same air of a toy rewinding, "I wouldn't be surprised if that were true..."
...
The heartbreak that ponies who knew the kinds of ordeals Sombra did was a world of darkness divorced from her own. For all the issues Celestia could put a pin on throughout her own days, she could not claim the evident horror that lurked in the pages of Memoria Amentia's book and troubled minds. Hers were lacking in intensity or obvious dysfunction.
A stately princess could present herself to a mirror each morning with control she couldn't muster enough of anything to hate and was averse to feeling any love for — she might as well obsess over some other trivial process, like adoring how she breathed. Not everypony could put up the facade she could, so if anything was to be said of it, she had quiet gratefulness that she was both a masked mare and a stage director in her life.
Under all that made such a mare were amounting confessions, for one who occupied her every role could disclose no natural faults. Everything prodded at her seams over the years as confessions — these very things she had been disclosing to somepony who she had gratefully thought was too apathetic to regard them as anything more than empty words, or something to be annoyed about. Instead, it was clearer that he probably didn't even have the stability to handle the things she had said to him.
(What if that... had consequences?)
Those weren't the thoughts she voiced to the microphone thrust so suddenly under her muzzle. It wouldn't have projected anything; there was not a sign of the necessary spellwork to get the device to function.
"And what worries your pretty little head today?"
Discord's voice appeared before he did, save for the disembodied claw touching the microphone. That was actually less of a surprise than the familiar scene of the hall settling back into view; she wasn't one to daydream, but trouble clouded her thoughts and stole her focus between duties — and could she really be blamed? Problems posed by a severe situation should never be taken so lightly.
"Oh, Dissy. I'm afraid it's only the usual. Empress Suiren is terribly adamant about meeting before Neighponese culture and harvest festivals, and before the Equestrian winter is at full force. This mare fails to understand that just because she is my once-removed cousin and her naiadic attributes mean she fares poorly in winter does not mean she can be so demanding. The nerve of some ponies!"
"Hrm-hrm," Discord mused, the rest of him materializing without flair; he simply reversed whatever fade he had put upon himself. A long serpentine body was coiled about her throne, contorting here and there as Discord pleased so that he might still keep his microphone grasped properly. "If she is already once removed, why not remove her again? Perhaps somewhere even farther away?"
Girlish giggling floated around the throne room; Celestia smiled, and widely enough that the area around her eyes crinkled with mirth. "Dissy, that's not how cousins work!"
"What?" came his adorable, genuine surprise. "Then how are they supposed to be removed?" With one snap of his paw, tweezers were clutched in his claw instead of a microphone. "Are they plucked—"
"No, no, not at all! I'm afraid it's all just genealogy, and meant to push that uppity..." Celestia sucked in a thin breath. "Oooh, that uppity little miss—"
At the sound of such irritation, such harsh language, Discord gave a gasp that was half-teasing.
"—too close to Equestria for my liking. Now, her mother, Kiku, was no foal about working together to get a harmonious meeting arranged. Su is just twice as pushy as her sire, all demands to ensure that hospitality is extended to her, and is only willing to extend half that courtesy back to others. What's a mare to do when there are so many frustrations lurking with every good gesture I make? Goodness, I offered her everything I can think of, including traditional food, any castle suite she wants, all-expenses-covered visits to Canterlot's finest spas, and—"
"Why not just put her in a room with Sombra?" Discord suggested, an odd innocence shining in his eyes and a goofy, helpful grin crossing his face. "Mister Grumpy-grump and your froufrou flower crown cousin will drive one another up a wall! No meeting is needed! Oh, oh!" He waved his paw excitedly, right while she was still trying to realize what he was so eagerly going on about. "Won't those nifty kirin attendants be there too? The ones with the games?"
The thought of getting to enjoy many games of go with the well-mannered hoofmaids sent ripples of calm through all the frustration that had been prowling about Celestia's thoughts — and pulled her focus right where she wanted it, and it stuck in her mind clear and glinting like the stripes of gold on the pronged horns of Suiren's maids. (Why, she could already imagine them just as easily as Dissy was conjuring ideas!)
"You genius!" Celestia gasped, her mane's movement spurred into a more energetic flow and glittering specks popping off into defined sparks of marigold. She placed a big kiss on his cheek and a smile cracked across her face once more, without resistance. "Su has never met Sombra before! He would be such an excellent distraction! Oooh, that would just take so much off my mind!"
"Excellent!" Discord shot her a snaggle-toothed grin, and Celestia felt the worries of Neighponese diplomacy shrink; her job was hard, many creatures she dealt with brought stress, and even when she always put her best hoof forward it was no lie that worry was to be found in basic duties... but it certainly wasn't the worry she bore at heart. "Does that mean there will be time for testing the guards' stoicism later?"
With a snap, a can replaced the microphone, one Celestia recognized. Before she could say anything else, another snap magicked the lid away — and a dozen compressed snakes bearing goofy expressions and bright colors shot out at her.
Merry chortles absolutely erupted from her, tinged with girlish giggles as she waved her forehooves around for effect. "Gracious me, I'm being attacked!"
Discord slithered around her throne with all the goofy, endearing satisfaction of a puppy who has fetched a stick thrown for him, an expression that remained even when he stood by the water burbling from the throne with a comically puffed-out chest. "Now that one never gets old!"
The sight of it was enough to inspire a smile from Celestia instead of pangs of loneliness from Raven's absence, and she was able to gather the faux snakes with no loss of brightness. "Mhm, it is a classic. I'm afraid I'll have to wait until evening for any pranks, however good they may be."
"Oh, pooh." Puppy-dog pride melted into a puppy-eyed pout — one that could always get a tinge of rosiness in her cheeks, even as a little filly, regardless of how dramatic the gesture was.
"Duties are duties," Celestia said, smiling and adding a sympathetic wave of her hoof. "But I can promise you many pranks later, Dissy."
She winked and levitated his snake-can back to him, and Discord accepted it, but not without stroking his goatee in faux impatient consideration. Of every special somecreature in her life, it was Discord who never cared or complained about her foremost love and responsibility to Equestria over her relationships, something that saved her life of much guilt and intrusion. That kind of balance — oh, and she was well-aware of the irony that came from using that word for Discord — had never been achievable before, and she had nothing but love for Dissy, who was no less fond of her.
Discord offered a teasing harrumph and crossed his mismatched limbs.
"Oh, it'll be worth the wait! Today is Private Black Powder's birthday and a little bird in the kitchens let me know he'll be having his party in the castle, and I got some inextinguishable candles for the occasion!"
Paw clapped against claw, and Discord smiled with his usual welcome deviousness. "That I might be able to wait for."
"Is Fluttershy really so uninterested in mischief that a few hours in Ponyville could not stave off boredom?"
"Uninterested!" Discord exclaimed. "Celly, she's no fun for pranks. Flutters is up for anything but chaos of that kind. Not even a little!"
"Poor, poor Dissy. Once sunset is here, I'll have wrapped up the day enough for some silliness. You might want to whisk yourself to Ponyville to see if Fluttershy is available for non-chaotic time together."
"She might be—"
"And I," Celestia said, showing a tiny, relaxed smile, "might be able to breeze through some easy petitions — goodness, I do think that some of the ones scheduled today merely needed my approval over lengthy processes and more grave verdicts."
Discord beamed at her. "Delightful! Once a few of your little ponies—"
Oh, when he said it like that it so warmed her heart.
"—get pretty-pony-princess-permission, we can get this show on the road!" Being the creature of mischief that he was, he gave the last five words an immoderate cowpony accent, snapping his claw again. One brown walrus mustache poofed into being and a sheriff costume caught jarringly between tacky and adorable. Right in the middle of the throne room, a covered wagon of an ambiguous period had appeared, not unlike something that could still easily be seen traveling one of Equestria's many dirt roads...
Oh, Celestia thought, blinking not from surprise at Discord's magical demonstration, but from the half-way nature of the dirt road illusion that wavered into being on the throne room floor.
Discord spun his sheriff star badge with obvious, buffoonish swagger. The two of them could do nothing but laugh as the star went around.
"Did I read your mind?" Dissy said, still smiling and spinning that silly star.
"Almost," she chuckled, not stopping to hold up a forehoof for once.
Discord hopped down to the wagon and its empty yoke, his hindlegs doing silly little kicks. "I'll be off, Celly!" With a gesture of goofy bravado, he pointed to the throne room doors the way prospectors and pioneers were portrayed in idealized films.
A lazy smile stuck to her face, her thoughts snatched away by the pleasant warmth that came simply from conversation to one's liking with somepony who brought her only pleasant feelings. A calm control ebbed from moments like this.
(You know that it might not last, that feeling. It lasts the way butter will upon a hot skillet's surface.)
(Something in Celestia's stomach prickled at the distaste of the thought, how the poorly-timed reminder wasn't... wasn't how she should be today. Not only that, but butter had something distasteful for such a comparison almost as sour as that nagging little inner voice was. Trilliums were a more appropriate comparison.)
"Dissy, before you go, there's actually been a few things I've been meaning to ask you. Could you spare a few moments?"
Cowpony gear and dusty trails vanished, and Discord had his lion's paw shoved in a pouch labeled 'MOMENTS' and was rummaging around. "Let's see, Celly..."
"Excellent! I just wanted to get some answers to help with Sombra's reformation. I know you and him have spoken quite a bit!"
With his claw, Discord motioned 'so-so' and scrunched his muzzle up. "Is he being a no-good grouch? And isn't Loony-Moon the one who should be getting him to cut ribbons and have royal tea parties?"
"No, not especially. And Luna wasn't going to be the one to reform him; no reformer would be able to become involved with their reformee any more than a psychotherapist—"
"Headshrinker," Discord stage-whispered, giving the faint snap to direct his magic until he had shrunk to a saddle-bag-sized draconequus.
"—would be able to do so with their clients. I'm to reform him, or has somepony not been paying attention to my speeches." She shot him a look inching toward obvious slyness.
Discord considered this, tapping his claw to his chin. "Three out of five stars for that coronation one. There certainly weren't enough fireworks."
A snort tickled her throat, unprincess-like and threatening to let loose. "I'm so glad you continue to flatter me with a whole three stars."
So maybe her tone was a touch flat? She was still smiling!
Discord sniggered, snapping a notepad and quill into being. "What's the scoop on the mad prince, then?"
"You're the one giving me the scoop, Dissy," she corrected, and found the notebook, with its quill tucked in the spiral, thrust to her.
Clucking, she scribbled a few whorls in an imitation of notes. "You know more about oddities than anypony else. Did he ever do anything that came across as, ah, weird?"
"Oh, oh! He has a cookbook about making nifty little explosives, and he's never even tried to taste one. Really puts those recipes to waste, don't you think?"
"I think that Sombra is very keen on trying to circumvent forbidden books if that is among the texts and tomes I'm thinking of."
"He asks the oddest questions about draconequui. Why, if I get another inquiry about what my spinal cord is like, I'll just mail him my spare and let him figure it out. That prince of yours is a very nosy creature, and for somepony closer to chaos than order he's not very easygoing. I tell him all about Fluttershy and he barely has anything to say about Cady. With his 'I don't need friends; they disappoint me' I didn't think that they really were close."
"He's just a grump," Celestia chimed.
"I know, and he's no fun! I can't rile him up! All he does is babble some smarty-pants this or that about chaos magic and it's so boooooring! I get my balanced diet of lectures from Ponyville, so I absolutely positively do not need to be subject to his cooking experiments and surveys. I find it especially unjust he acts so when he doesn't even wear pants! Be extra-sweet and tell that stallion he needs to get some Mustainian recipes into his head."
"I will, though I would like to hear about something truly unusual that you've seen Sombra do. These are all quite normal for him." A few more vague scribbles completed her latest line.
"Oh," Discord tapped a claw to his chin, humming. "Other than Loony, he really doesn't have anypony around and just sits through sooo many of my Fluttershy stories. I haven't seen him get invited to one of your pretty princess dances by his Super-Best-Friend, too. Can you imagine that? I doubt they even have friendship bracelets, magical friendship Elements, or whatever it is all the foals find funky."
Celestia neglected to mention that Discord didn't ever wield an Element or that the last fad she heard was hip with the foals revolved around flipping bottles. "And what do you think that all adds up to?"
The clackity-crunch of buttons from the calculator Discord conjured ceased. "According to my data," Dissy begins in with an overly faux mimic of an intellectual, adjusting spectacles that weren't there a moment ago, "it would appear that everything adds up to little Loony's other half is lonely."
Lonely.
That word always snagged itself in Celestia's mind just enough to be too long and create a sour cramp in her. That was a word carrying too much embarrassment, and was like a burr in one's coat.
She also had not ever considered associating loneliness of all things with Sombra. Ever since she was blessed to have Luna back again, she had always done her best to watch for any sign of behavior that could suggest it in Luna. While that... hadn't gone as she intended, she was sure (however tentatively) that she knew how to tell when somepony was lonely... but when it came to Sombra... might he be an exception? Who knew just how terribly impacted he could be by what happened to him?
None of this was more than guesses if she could allow herself a breath to deprecate. Sleuthing simply wasn't anything she had taken up in centuries; even then, she scouted for political gossip before there was a crown on her head, not the short fuse of demons with, well, demons.
Sombra always hated ponies too much for her to ever count him as lonely in any sense that she could understand. He was alone, an endling, and more of a boogeymare — er, boogeystallion — outcast in how he was widely seen than anything else. Somewhere between the wicked, dark-caped, and nefarious ne'er-do-well villains of old films and the all too real monsters of fang and shaggy fur was where Sombra existed. Neither of those types were lonely figures, except in the sense of others viewing how their behaviors alienated them. Such a thing could hardly be seen as the yearning that hung over her.
Across the available surface of her notepad, Celestia had drawn aimless whorls. Trailing thought had not even managed to take every bit of elegance from her script, and she was faced with clouds of curlicues not unlike those a foal might use to scribble over something. The duration of her pause sank in. Regardless, she resisted a frown. Something lighter was gracing her muzzle, no doubt some neutral little smile.
"What makes you so certain that he is lonely?"
Discord shrugged carelessly, and the rest of his serpentine body exaggerated the motion, bending this way and that in the air. "Anypony who admits they have 'ability to eat uncooked tofu' has to be lonely. I don't think he could be anything else. There's nothing Elemental about him, he has no booty brand, and he's already gray — so I doubt I can have him galloping about as a ray of sunshine anytime soon."
Celestia frowned at her notepad. What would his opposite nature even be, if he could be 'discorded' so?
Discomfort pricked her neck as her own experience with that brand of Discord's magic lingered at the edge of her memory's barrier as if it were something that could lie in wait. She dismissed it; this wasn't about her. "I've just never known him to express that. In our lunches and time together, he just didn't..." She bit her lip gingerly, confused by the abrupt gap in her own statement. "He didn't..."
"He didn't what?"
"...I don't know. He was too apathetic, I suppose? I'm just not sure."
"Well, there's no need to worry yourself silly about it!" Discord smiled at her, standing proud and clutching a magnifying glass. "I'm also not sure!"
Yes, and that was admittedly something that worried her. Discord was still possessing of something she could claim no shred of, and that was when things came to friendship he had a trait still somewhere between naivety and immaturity. As somepony who knew them when they were simply two youths sweet on one another, she could say that it wasn't something he had much around her. An odd pair they may be in some eyes, but odd gears could still run together and all puzzle pieces looked like mere nonsense on their own. Discord was an undeniable prankster at heart — or hearts, for Celestia never thought to ask if that was correct before — and that lent manipulative skills as she had them in coyness.
Something like that simply couldn't be carried over to earnest friendships like he was building with Twilight, Fluttershy, and the others. How many times had he misread something about them entirely, resorted to trickery, or stepped all over Fluttershy's enormously soft-hearted sensitivities and had to use her careful advice to fix a friendship problem?
(Quite a few, if she was to nurse such an understatement.)
When even mortal friends of a hoofful of years could still prove difficult for Discord, she had to take his observations, when done without malice, with a pinch of salt. She loved the youthfulness behind Discord's salt-and-pepper looks, but when it came to finer things, his perspective was — appreciated, of course, but still — supplemental. His mirth and irresistible brand of what she could only call anti-charisma — far from smooth, and certainly not conventionally likable — was what kept them drawn magnetically.
He waved a little farewell at her, one that was goofy, gregarious, and so much like the energetic motions of a foal. That lent something she could only feel was purely cute to his gesture, and a smile — a real one — bloomed on her muzzle. "I'll see you later, too. Dissy."
The playful kiss she blew came on a trail of soft giggles. Waving forehoof, she couldn't help but take in the familiar parallel to them. Discord may bear the same divinity she had, but he could be described by some mortal term of age, yet he was the one who lived and acted unburdened and unrestrained. Celestia, as fractured as that mare was, could at least claim she had a more traditional agelessness if she observed herself, and it was she who sculpted herself and crafted control, knowing herself to have a semi-detached spectator role in her own heart that everypony else was so quick to label as maturity. Discord was the one with chaos external, but even that had become so familiar to her over the years — dare she say almost as unfamiliar as her own internal chaos was to him?
When Discord was gone, Celestia gave one last look at her notepad. Fuzziness still was faint in her chest, and she wasn't sure if the presence of it should be welcomed or if she should offer some disappointment at how the feeling was faded.
Now that she was alone, she let the thoughts bearing insecurities prick at what little she had learned. Papers, proof, and what-have-you managed to feel flimsy right now. Really, she did feel like she was trying to help somepony purely based on observations and hearsay. Holding Raven's swiped papers in her magic instead of the notebook — or anything else, really — would not ease the uncomfortably surreal fog that engorged everything about this... this...
Forget it.
Forget it.
Celestia blinked, straightened up, and took in a big breath. With a calmness born of practice instead of earnestly in the moment, she slipped the notebook away. There was still daylight left to oversee.
There absolutely was a chance her precautions would pay off, and all would be in balance again. She could help Sombra, just as the princess had helped guide so many of her little ponies before. (So what if this was... far too personal compared to what she had become accustomed to?) All her doubts, she could dismiss.
(Twilight would.)
...
Darkness could run deep if there was no light to banish it. Canterlot, unfortunately, was not without shady parts, though they were nothing compared to those in cities more ill-famed for such sectors. Magic had its own vile powers capable of shaping wrong life and great goods like easing the mind and the powers provided by the Elements of Harmony themselves, no matter how cold the nature of that force was, there was an undeniable good to them.
(Celestia was past the point of admitting it in earnest though, not after all they had put her through.)
Sombra was plagued by a darkness, and not in the literal sense. Unfortunately, it was something that also really struck Celestia as not unlike feelings she knew through uglier day-to-day experiences. That was where the parallel ended abruptly. Whether that was fortunate or tragic, she would never dare label.
He was disturbed, and not in the sense she had previously thought, just as much as she was disconnected from the princess that she had so delicately sculpted. His own closest friend didn't know that he even suffered from the most basic symptoms of his various illnesses. How much he was hiding was a frightening thought in itself, but how close that came to...
(Never had she wanted to be even remotely similar to Sombra. Let such things remain only in the most obvious of comparisons — that they both had four legs, did their paperwork, and lived in the same castle. To have uncovered something about him that was so ugly and see that the closest similarity lay amid such an ugly wound was what terrified her too.)
Sombra was now a different sort of ghost to her, one in a long theme of history's victims. The theme of catastrophes left to explode in one's self rather than as a result of anything anypony could see was what she had found the roots of. Ponies touched by wild chaos magic from ages ago, all the victims of bad magics, and anypony who had ever found themselves before her as a princess...
...wanting help, needing somepony who could connect with their struggle, who could hear tale after tale of how they have been torn and victimized...
(without ending up as hollow as you)
...that was the cycle that Sombra had now swept himself into. It was a cycle that Princess Celestia felt cursed by, because she always, always wanted to have the capability to do more when so many ponies professed the dark places that their calamity had brought them to. When all ponies knew was the bone-chilling rain, she just had to show them sunshine.
(Sometimes it didn't work.)
Not only was she long past the point of not doing anything, but she could not stop the piercing thought of just how wrong that would be. Now, she had all the proof she needed from her conversations to know that there was something deeply wrong with Sombra, and that whatever was going on with him was worse than she thought.
(And you still feel that uncanny, unwavering feeling—)
Mixed feelings on the stallion be damned, there was every difference between not liking somepony and allowing them to suffer.
(—that you did something quite monstrous?)
What she could not do, no matter what happened, was tell Luna anything.
(And that you could still say nothing.)
Even if Luna was not a mare of emotions, she was still married to Sombra. Luna was not a mare who would remain calm in this kind of situation, where strong emotion would be terrible to show. Celestia would no more dump such news upon Luna than she would permit a medical professional to bypass the laws that prevent them from treating their family members. The devastation to be expected from Luna after hearing such news would hurt the three of them.
(That part of you might want to.)
From the sound of it, Cadance and Shining Armor described Sombra in such a way that sounded like he was prone to becoming overstimulated easily. While she can't say that was especially distinguishable from his normal behavior, there was not much effort needed to realize that the more ponies present would only worsen things.
He hadn't even told Cadance that he has…
Really, who could she even count to bring, anyway? This wasn't anything she was used to — heavens forbid that anypony could become so heartless to be used to this sort of trauma — nor was it anything she could expect to brief somepony on. This wasn't a meeting where a win smiling and words smoothed of impact in order to be inoffensive could secure all. (And she couldn't let herself forget how directness made her feel like she had butter-hooves of the brain at the worst of times.) None of this was a festival or event that needed only a checklist to secure success. This was not a summit that need only a pinch of perfection with her presence. She couldn't lighten awkwardness with a well-timed prank.
Dear heavens, just what had she gotten herself into? She was a princess, a politician, and a persona — not a therapist. She just wanted other ponies to be okay and help them in the best, most orderly way she could. Doing this alone was (terrifying) worrying because everything had to be perfect to get Sombra to say something.
Luna was the one who was excellent at getting those who had become silent after harm and more conventional forms of these assaults to speak again. She also had expertise in working with youth. Sombra was an adult and Celestia couldn't imagine that it would be anything but condescending to have somepony try and work with him using the same techniques that were for young ones. There were these dolls Luna had — a little filly and colt with a patchwork mosaic of parts and bright clothing items. Sombra had to know she had them; Celestia knew that Luna kept them somewhere in her wing of the castle. Their fabric was special and sparkled with magic like stardust so that they could slip into the dream realms with Luna, unlike other material things.
Imagining a grown stallion like Sombra getting passed the colt doll and told to point to the head, or however things would be different in a case of mind rape, was difficult. How could something like that be anything other than humiliating at his age? The only thing that Celestia wouldn't have to worry about in a hypothetical Luna-is-present-situation is doubt over her believing Sombra. The answer to that was obvious enough, just as Luna bawling uncontrollably or losing control would be guaranteed. Dealing with somepony as temperamental as Sombra was in a high-stress situation would already be enough.
(And could she not have the want to spare her own daughter from hearing something so in such a manner? Couldn't she avert that kind of cruelty?)
A chat with Blueblood reinforced that Sombra would not be instantly receptive to disclosing anything. Talking with Cadance let her learn about his senses. Discord brought attention to feeling, even if he wasn't informative. Shining Armor contributed enough to solidify what were once suspicions.
Sombra was the only one left to talk to...
...and no matter how much she was dreading the encounter, there was always a chance she could help him, even without Luna.
(You barely even acknowledge him as a friend.)
...
"—ponies could just stand to be so much more grateful," Sombra was saying. "For one, they don't have to pay for medicines and healing any longer, and yet there are still so many complaints of stubbed hooves." He scoffed and trotted closer into her shadow. "Tartarus knows his nation hasn't been entirely driven into the ground yet, and the few advantages had here over non-Equestrians ought to be flaunted."
"Oh," Celestia said, masking her distracted state with a pleasant air, "I guess that could be true. I do think we have some of the finest iced coffee brews in Equestria. I'm starting to suspect there are some bewitched family recipes lurking within my borders."
Sombra grumbled something about iced coffee being brewed from cowards' blood. Celestia just offered a noncommittal hum, partly to mask her own nerves, and watched each door they passed. The hallway that was sized to leave more than a generous amount of space for her and her subjects held a claustrophobic sway over her today. If she stretched her wings today, she was certain that her feathers would brush the walls with the slightest movement, even when the corridor's dimensions made that impossible.
But she smiled kindly, well aware that she was doing so this time. As aware of the soft expression as she was how much Sombra's current ramblings mirrored conversations she'd had with Luna, instructing her some time ago that she couldn't open her sessions of court with 'Hello and welcome to your favorite recurring nightmare' any more than it would be socially acceptable for her to show up dressed like a clown.
At least she had been lucky enough to pull Sombra away from his duties easily; he was amiable enough to today. No saddlebags stuffed with books or scrolls were on his back. His mane was loose, as usual, and his circlet absent. Even his metal shoes had been forgone today, letting Celestia see the tiniest speckles of nearly-scrubbed-away ink around his hooves, an obvious sign that somepony had been having trouble with their typewriter's ribbon. While she hadn't caught the battle, he was clearly pleased — as pleased as Sombra could be — to have something other than paperwork to do.
(Of course, he had taken hold of her aimless pleasantries, and here they were, listening to the latest list of offenses Sombra felt riddled her castle.)
"Is there anything in particular you needed help with?" Sombra asked, ears perked forward.
Any display of amiability from Sombra was still a surprise in itself when he directed it at her, even if her reaction to it had lessened. Any time between their usual run-ins away from each other was enough to recharge their mutual willingness to interact, and to her immense relief, he had offered to take her to no more cemeteries. She hadn't told him so, but she was quite grateful he'd let their one trip there fade. (Well... he hadn't said he had, but him never bringing it up again wasn't much different.)
"No, as I said, I just wanted to sort some things out with you." She turned, and looked down the short corridor facing them. Gentle glow flowing from enchanted gems mounted in elegant scones cast all the light needed to brighten the tidy row of doors. "That is how you can assist me."
Sombra narrowed his eyes warily at the patterned marble walls. "You're certain you don't need me to renew any of the enchantments littering this place?"
She couldn't decide if he was waving his forehoof to sweep the span of the quaint hall or if he was trying to bat at something he felt was affecting air, like mist. "Not at all. I'll be having the staff arrange the required services." Celestia paused, unsure if she was dispelling whatever had him frowning now. "You can give them some input if you would like. I think they'll appreciate having somepony who can see something they can't."
Sombra raised one eyebrow. Golly, if there was any moment to have a demon eyebrow to Equestrian translator, this was it. He was so obviously expecting her to do something but if he meant so meanly, there was nothing to show for it.
Her heartbeat had been skipping along uncomfortably during their walk, and it was the pressure of experience that was helping her remain calm for both of their sakes. The irregular patter was more obvious once again, troubling her. Was Sombra suspecting ill intent in her actions? Was there some flaw in bringing him to a section of the castle less frequented? She wanted to speak to him where they would be unbothered. Sensitive matters of an unusual sort rested in her hooves, and she wanted Sombra nowhere near the ponies he disliked so much, or where unaccounted-for outcomes would be increased.
Distract him, prodded a speedy whisper.
"I'm afraid that your dialect of ill-humored eyebrow gestures is not anything I'm fluent in."
Seeing the left corner of Sombra's mouth curl up eased some of her frettings. The last couple of hoofsteps she took had their feeling of grace return instead of the tension that she had felt moments ago, and a ripple of that sense stayed with her when she stopped.
A thin sheen of yellow magic curled around the handle of the door, appearing unusually peppy in contrast to the soothing royal purple. With her expression held in a perfect, easy smile, she turned to Sombra. There had to be some kind of conversation of the roulette of topics she could cater to him worthy of wasting time. "I can't imagine how the Mayor-Stallion of Hollow Shades himself must've trembled from your conduct. He gave me quite an earful yesterday about your little quirks and attitude over his propositions for those breezie treaties."
Hollow Shades' Mayor Stallion was an aging fellow who only shifted from his twee grandfatherly disposition when his extensive quibbles on breezie-pony matters were treated lightly. He was so thoroughly pleasant most of the time that there was no reason to think assigning Sombra to deal with Evergreen Candytuft's requests for royal audience would go anything but peachy. Never would she wish any distress upon the stallion, but his account still made a smile touch her muzzle.
Sombra sighed, gaze rising to the ceiling mural of sunny skies. "Yes, having somepony raise their eyebrow is a clear act of aggression against him."
"Oh, he was quite adamant that you were the single most, ah, condescending-looking pony he knew."
Seeing Sombra scoff so was quite understandable if just this once. "Condescending-looking? How appalling a misdeed!" His forehoof flew to his brow dramatically, framing his exaggerated blasé expression. "The end of the Right-Honorable Lord Sombra will certainly come from a dolt with feelings as delicate as his joints."
Celestia blinked, unworried about trying to make anything of his little display when she could chalk everything up to the bizarre falsetto he slipped into. Whether he aimed to attempt at mimicking a mare's tone or genuinely try for a bizarre imitation of one was lost on her.
Sombra's tail flicked sharply. "Somepony who is so provoked over being patronized was worth patronizing in the first place. For the love of me, what is it that makes uniquely unfavorable ponies so drawn to politics?"
A polite squeaking cough into her hoof drew Sombra's attention. Her greatest pursuit being muddied by his words was not anything she would try to address right now. Knowing the less sound thoughts of Sombra, he probably meant his remark to be rhetorical.
"If you do not mind, we have a discussion or two that I don't wish to treat lightly." The persistent near-smile she had fell from her face, and her manner grew softened into something more somber. "And I don't think that Luna should be saddled with the majority of our own duties for the rest of the day, do you?"
The door was tugged open following a soft click. Sombra's stare locked on it, intensifying. Did he feel she mentioned Luna as some attempt to ploy him?
"Why do we need to do anything in a room warded against sound and teleportation?"
Ah, so her attempts to blend those enchantments into anything less distinct to him hadn't done anything. Or much. Heavens knew she didn't have any demonic senses to tell for sure.
"Can't you feel that those weren't recently implemented?"
Sombra stepped back uneasily. Sparks of restlessness were gleaming sharply in his eyes, and he gave a sudden look back down the hall that they came from. His abrupt silence reeked of mounting distress.
Could there be any doubt in her mind that Sombra was recalling the two times he had been left alone with her and...
...Why was it that he never ceased to be afraid? No matter the time and efforts put into points of harm in his life and those that were safe, he never showed any sign that he was lonely and embedded with such paranoid mistrust.
"How," Sombra snapped, "is that any better?"
"I... I don't need you using that tone," Celestia cautioned, straightening her posture so that the gem-lamps directly illuminated her crown. "All the rooms in this part of the castle are enchanted so in order to keep them private. No room here is filled with anything meant to hurt you. Past all these doors are study rooms, meeting parlors, and what few meditation rooms haven't been usurped by Luna."
All the defensive marks in Sombra's glare and body language masked any hint that she could be getting through to him. "Only that doesn't really fill me in on why I should be here, does it?"
The cold, thin sneer packed into his last two words was shot towards her with a dangerous edge to them that drew an unwanted shudder from her.
Just let him believe me this once, and if he doubts me for the rest of days, then so be it. As soon as he leaves, he'll find Luna, and if he tells Luna about…
Sooner is better, prompted a different path of thought. He must face this now, or he'll never do it later.
An inconvenient lump dominated Celestia's throat, forcing her to swallow with obvious meekness. "I... I am acutely aware of how shaky our relationship is, and that I'm not somepony you have an easy time dealing with. I don't mean that."
(Yes you do.)
"I know you don't like ponies and you value your privacy. The nature of the conversation I want to have with you is... it is something I wouldn't want intruded upon, for any of us."
Was it a trick of the colored light of the gemstones, or did Sombra pale just a touch?
You need to do better, she urged herself and smoothed a more controlled expression in its place once again. "Personal matters are not something I want to be spoken just anywhere in the castle, and truthfully, bringing ponies here when I need to speak with them in a calm atmosphere is standard to me. Please, don't think I wanted to offend you with a change in location."
For her efforts — which, admittedly, were far from what she had anticipated — Celestia was rewarded with the sight of Sombra clenching his jaw. Watching her.
"We can move, if you would like." Upon finishing her suggestion, she dropped her focus around Sombra's withers. It was a good, indirect spot and she directed her patient teacher's look at him.
Decline. For goodness sake, if you wish to speak anywhere else, I won't have these wards…
"This better not be about some petition—"
"Oh, goodness no! I'm sorry if you thought that. Nothing I want to discuss is about any of your duties." She was finally able to shield some of her unease by raising a forehoof in front of her muzzle. "I only brought up Mister Candytuft when I saw you—"
"Nothing about this is you just wanting to slap a lecture into my face about secondhoof gripe?"
"It's definitely not," Celestia declared, offering light reproach in her tone and slowly sweeping her foreleg to the parlor's interior. "What would possibly motivate me to pull you from your day instead of sending a scroll? Don't you see how the decor is, unfortunately, the least pleasant take on carnation pink possible?"
Sombra recoiled, discomfort making his skin twitch under his cloak. Was even a little bit of humor not helping him have any peace of mind? "I'm supposed to make what of that?"
"What it means," she said, voice clear and calm, "is that I would not be going through the effort to be with you in a hall less-trotted if the matter was not an important one. Normal situations get discussed in normal chambers that I feel are up to standards for hosting our casual lives. Does that make you feel any better?"
Sombra's vigilant look broke from her expectant one to peer more carefully inside. "Hasten any redecorating ideas you have. Otherwise, we'll have a crisis when Mac vanishes in here."
Taking a calm breath, Celestia promptly took in Sombra's manner. He hadn't fully dropped his guard, which was starting to give rise to bothersome notions again. Carrying himself with reduced hostility wasn't at all reassuring when he hadn't had any problems obliging to accompany her earlier. Truly, one was able to lead a demon to a door, only to find him uncooperative when she needed it most.
"I'll see to that another time," she replied lightly, smiling. "Have you made up your mind yet?"
Wishing for Sombra to trust her, however briefly, was certainly a foreign want. Force or pushiness was not an option, as she didn't want to detain him. With encouragement already acted out to a sensible extent, her mind turned to the rapid build-up of those wishes. Even if her request flooded her with an awkward impression, the chance his moments of niceness to her after months were flimsy and as fully inauthentic as she inwardly suspected stung.
(Assuming, even momentarily, that it's right: how hadn't she managed to exhibit an improved bond with him he could accept?)
Doubt weaving through her thoughts stuck behind the porcelain mask of control she had to maintain — and while rooted more in being Celestia than the state of the princess. Around Sombra, staying confined to the former was required. Having things that way didn't feel different from trying to squeeze Tirek into filly-sized sweaters. Getting to be what she needed to be, when that was needed of her wasn't as wrong as the constriction that touched her mind, bearing ill feelings during moments of frustration. Sombra didn't need a princess today, even if she could drift that way.
A gray ear flicked. Sombra's minute of consideration had elapsed less tediously for him, surely. Tedious. That was a word that stuck to this situation, for nothing really fit into it when things felt so cramped. His posture was laxer, and he so obviously hadn't suspected her thoughts. The path of his crimson eyes landed on her.
"We can talk here." The affirmation was given with the aloofness that Sombra could shift so easily into.
Hesitantly, Celestia smiled, and held the door open for him. All she needed was that. No jitters were eliminated from his words, and a lurking dryness was growing in her throat. Only the glare of a spotlight highlighting her could make her cracks of apprehension visible.
And she didn't hesitate to step in after him and lock the door behind him. Her chance to help pulled with a greater might.
...
The sitting room greeted them with an array of dainty furnishings. As she had told him, the primary palate for the room was various shades of gentle, soothing pink. Everything else was intended to give a welcoming, friendly feeling to anypony who needed a tranquil space — even if it came at the cost of the distinct atmosphere her parlor was waiting to host a filly's sugar-plum breezie tea party that would never be. Furnishings were intended to soothe, hence plush purple chairs, soft pastel rugs, and a tea table whose legs ended in round paws. Warm light from a lamp above illuminated the windowless space, and Celestia felt physical tension melt away.
Answering the call to comfort, she primly took a seat in one of the two large chairs. Sweet peonies were nestled in a vase decorated with rosy-cheeked breezies that would never be able to flutter around the painted flowers gracing the crown molding. Distance between her side of the table and where Sombra would sit was generous. Even in such a snug space, Celestia felt the peace of the space reflecting on her, helping the sense of control she required. Reviewing her thoughts without fretting and any sense of unpleasant disconnect wasn't overwhelming her now. All was in its right place here, and ill feelings could be driven back to where they could be restrained and dissolved. Not even the ticking of a clock could disturb her here.
(If only the remainder of the task at hoof was as easy as this.)
"Would you please sit down now?" Celestia asked, ensuring her tone was the polite and untroubled one most often directed to her subjects.
Turning to him, Celestia saw how Sombra was drawn to the wall farthest from her. Earlier, as she had been readying the parlor, she felt that it would be best to keep the closet door open, so Sombra could see what was inside. Within was merely a shadowy area that was unusually spacious. Stored in frilly baskets were various blankets, jigsaw puzzles, and other objects kept to ease the young minds she usually had to break the bad news to here. Shelves housed a dozen miniatures of happy village scenes within their little frames.
Sombra's quickly turned his focus to her, an involuntary trill following the way he tilted his head. Grasped in his magic was a puzzle cube. Just when she thought he would say something, he just shrugged, and more magic gathered on his horn.
She hadn't even fully blinked when the following pop of magic drew a startled gasp from her.
"Gracious!"
Her squeak only made Sombra give the worst little snort-laugh sound: the kind that was just tch and an exhale. Aimless twists of the colored cube resting in his hooves didn't take away from how painfully out of place he was here, unable to appear anything other than sinister and colorless, minus his eyes.
"And here I thought you were going to say more to me than that." One forehoof ran through his mane boredly. "None of this is about Luna, is it?"
"Not really," Celestia said, keeping her forehooves aligned neatly at the cushion's edge. No one answer stuck out as a perfect truth or a suitable white lie, so she settled with something indecisive. "She did tell me something quite important, and recently I've had some things come to my attention recently."
The very shine to Sombra's aura paused when she finished, and his expression slackened into something unreadable. In a room filled with cozy smoothness, Sombra was ragged and defined, like stone was. His sudden stillness brought back the creep of worry, seeing his unsettlingly flat, stony affect.
"About me."
He's not asking.
Gradually, the edges of her smile melted to a soft, regal seriousness. Grim words and looks, even done accidentally, would only serve to upset him. In careful steps, she had run through this situation in her mind numerous times, both out of sleep-disturbing worry and to better understand the exact shade of control she needed when personal, emotional responses would be mistaken.
"Of course," she whispered, eyeing just the peonies. "The health of everypony in this castle ultimately is my responsibility. I'd never let somepony with a cold cause everypony else in my home to get sniffles any more than I would want matters of feeling to go unaddressed too. Your health has come to my attention frequently."
Blank indifference tore away, leaving a light of growing realization in Sombra's eyes and his familiar off-putting edge to return as easily as Discord's snaps of magic. Prest-o change-o, that unshakable streak of testiness had reignited.
"I'm not contagious just for being magic-made," he declared. "Anypony who has been saying—"
"Oh, no! Not that sort of health! I didn't mean—"
"Somepony thinks I'm afflicted differently, then? With what?" Telekinesis waved the completed puzzle about irregularly, nearly flaunting his irritation. "Pony pox? Croup? Tatzl-flu?"
"Can you even catch pony pox?"
"No!" Spurts of dark magic flashed among crimson, an obvious extension of his exasperation, and the irregularity of the combo caused the cube to spill from his hold. "That's the point! How can you say privacy is valuable to me and think I would inform just anypony about my welfare? Who is it that thinks I'm ill?"
"I... I don't fault you for thinking of physical health first, I do the same. Luna elaborated on your situation, and it has begun to worry me."
Emptying a bucket of ice water on Sombra would've gotten less of a stupefied reaction from him. His lack of slit pupils was always oddly un-demonic of him, at least to her. Celestia knew that didn't matter, not when seeing Sombra's pupils shrink to pinpricks was just as creepy.
"Luna told you..."
Nodding was the best way to start. With how far-away he echoed her words, who knew if he would hear her? Or even be focused enough to read her lips? Touching... or really any physical contact with him was out of the question; he was too unaffectionate and breaching that barrier for any reason other than an emergency... well, it still sat poorly with her, to say the least. Seconds of silence squeezed at her thoughts too much, and the closet caught her eye.
Perhaps he'd accept a blanket if I offered it?
"She only told me to help me understand you. Please, don't be mad at her when Luna was trying to help us both—"
"I'm not mad at her." Sombra's voice was hoarse, and it took Celestia everything to not appear taken aback. "I want to know what she told you, and why."
"...And you don't want a drink? You sound—"
"I know how I sound," he hissed, even when the venom in his eyes was already a sufficient threat.
(Things can't turn this way, not so quickly. I mean him no ill will, and he thinks nothing of me telling him that. If I repeat myself or offer him anything, he will not see anything but lies and emotional weakness when I need him to be at ease. Letting things unravel so easily would risk harm to him, and when Sombra isn't happy…)
"I thought she was being evasive with me, and I'm not going to ignore those behaviors from her. Not after I know what pain she'll cover that way." Celestia paused, noting Sombra's focus as an improvement. "From there, I wanted to know if trying to bring parts of your treatment to the castle would ease her worries... I told her knowing what your treatments are would be the only way we could work together."
Four petals on the third peony she had Hayseed Greenhooves cut were loose.
"I'm to believe that you would let Luna go that easily?" The urp Sombra made in his throat was meant to clear the rough edge squeezing his voice, but ended up sounding like a cough.
"Whatever you think I did—"
"Is," came that scratch again, "more probable than whatever you really did, isn't it?"
The forehooves she watched so attentively held no answer, just somewhere less intimidating to focus on managing herself. "Helping her with helping you does mean I had to hear why you were being treated. I did indeed ask Luna for more information about your conditions and triggers."
Sombra stiffened immediately, already looking at her like she was a peeler and he was the potato whose layers were so threatened by such a simple tool. "Sticking your muzzle where it doesn't belong is—"
"Unfortunately vital when I'm nowhere near as skilled as Luna in this area? I'm afraid so. Can we continue to speak on your therapy with no middlemare and as openly as possible?"
Every sigh made ragged with anger from peeved parents and the uncomposed delegate was squashed under the sheer chill of Sombra's. "This will help me how?"
Celestia's mane swirled in tune with her breathing. "Boosting your image in the eyes of my subjects never hurts. Making you less out of place in the castle, in any way, is a good start if unpleasant things can be eliminated. As you are now, your innocence and clearances are granted chiefly by my decrees."
"Don't remind me." Venom could be heard more easily in his sharp tone than the rasp.
Biting the inside of her cheek kept Celestia from speaking too soon. Here she was trying to handle him with the delicacy of foal horseshoes — or, at least as well as she could — and retain the capacity to manage and draw answers from a literal spawn of darkness. "I feel you're misinterpreting—"
"I feel," Sombra echoed shortly, "that you know exactly what you mean when you aren't mincing words. Go on, we'll see how much of this I can stand."
"My apologies, as I mean well." Did her smile look forced? "What I meant was that your treatments and, ah, background could be examined in a way increasing diminished responsibility on your part. Isn't that something you want?"
The dilation of Sombra's pupils happened before he could restrain himself. After that, he snapped his partially-gaped mouth shut with a click of his jaws. One ear swung backward while he frowned with hesitation, even when the briefest whorls of shadow through his tail flicked with tense... curiosity? Or was it yearning? Whatever it was, he was dimming a hunger not born of anger or ambition that surely he would display in different company.
"While this might not be the best offer—"
"What do you want to know?"
Familiar impatience was clear to her ears, and yet, none of it tempered the eagerness spilling into how he blurted this to her.
Gotcha, chimed the part of her with a willingness to indulge in any relief. Of the two of them, surely her nagging thoughts of failure were no more than unfounded frettings of a ruler all too aware of past failures. So far, her actions had nudged the prince towards cooperation — something that was a pleasingly clear step in help's direction, for the peace of mind of everypony.
"Start with what your therapy is like, please. Does anything come up in chats frequently? Are the triggers Luna informed me of anything that can be helped?"
"Tagträumer's years of cognitive-analytic education are being spent primarily to hear my issues with royal duties and losing card games to yours truly." Sombra shrugged half-heartedly "He helps enough to be worth the bits. I've never brought up much I wouldn't tell somepony like Mac... most of the time," he added, clearly distracted by memory.
Not Tagträumerin? I can't remember the last time I heard of a stallion therapist or one that wasn't eager to present ink blots, dream prattlings, and honest-this-and-honest-that. Not even calling him a doctor is so discrediting. Why, one of the last ones I had was Germane as well and always mentioned something about cigars and dream problems when her obvious problems were that darned plunderseed vapor habit and how costly she was.
Her own thoughts trailing with his words hadn't allowed the chance to prepare for the scorn tainting his next words. "Isn't the source you're dancing around asking about for all the stressors marring my life obvious? Or apparent for most of them?"
"The Crystal Empire." Celestia let the three words out in a whisper. "You don't discuss events there with your—"
"No." Sombra's insistence was marked by the uncomfortable rasp again. The poison of it was enough to briefly erase her cozy parlor.
"...I see... but your apparent fear of fashion accessories and pet baubles? How does such a thing come about? Am I to make the castle staff's dress code stricter because Luna confided you hold such a bizarre fear?"
"Live in an empire surrounded by ponies who are wearing what is already a hideous symbol of ownership—" Celestia wouldn't have been surprised had he thrown up right after managing the word, "—against their will, and tell me that won't burn itself into your fears. Onyx wouldn't shut up sometimes about how much he desired to see me in one if he hadn't been..." Wincing in profuse disgust, Sombra offered a non-specific, rolling wave of his forehoof.
"Mhm," Celestia offered faintly. "He was, ah, always an... individual who sought to abuse others. To be humiliated is the clear opposite of your usual self, isn't it?"
Nodding attempts from Sombra were disrupted by how he shuddered, tearing his eyes away from her so his focus suddenly fell until Sombra's unfocused stare bored into Celestia's chest. Repulsion like that brought about from unwanted touch spread across where Sombra's line of sight fell; while he was entirely oblivious to how her coat prickled, the sensation only kindled the worry that he was shutting down, soon to fall into the state of diminished emotion she knew was typical of him. Her words had chipped right at something dark and uncomfortable instead of merely around it. To her, that strike of error would not go unnoticed. Where else could she direct their words?
"My apologies," she said delicately, softly spinning each word. "Your stress on these matters is an obvious burden, isn't it? Is your treatment being foreign not adding to that stress? I'm sure it's too expensive—"
"I don't need your muzzle poking where it doesn't belong and trying to drop hoof-outs in front of me—"
"Now, now," Celestia tutted, cautioning him with a forehoof like it already held gleaming bits. "There's no need for such a poor mindset. For you to be more at ease would take a lot off of my mind, especially if I only had to contribute mere bits! Wouldn't that ease Luna's own additions too?"
The interruption had Sombra bristling sourly, and his tail lashed where it was. "Quit it with your nonsense; I'll have you know that I can tell the difference between charity and sating your guilt monetarily, and I hardly suspect the former from you. Coming to throw stones at what you feel is a 'poor mindset' is enough when you're the only one living in a glass castle. I take care of myself because I can afford it, and you know damn well Equestrian practices are despicable."
"I didn't mean—"
"Quiet," he hissed. "I don't care how poorly you speak now about good intentions and other horseshit—"
"Sombra!" Celestia gasped. "Language, please!"
"Quiet!" he hissed again, dark magic crackling in his vision. "I said I didn't care about your attempts at easing your conscience through me. I know damn well that if I so much as told anypony about me and what I am, I'd make it into every paper right under the picture of the rotten cheat-made-hero who thought outing me was the same as carting some pouláriphilic monster off to where they can rot. As if we were comparable. I could lose Luna, Skyla would want nothing to do with me, Mac would be sizzling under the cruel microscope your subjects are quick to thrust on outcasts, and I'd lose—"
"I'm sorry." Her words were a passive near-whisper. And really, the idea that Sombra was the one among millions of her subjects who had to sacrifice their own pocket bits for a treatment she'd ensured her subjects could receive at no cost of their own for centuries did bother her.
"What," he snapped bitterly, curbing his own worried trainwreck of rapid-fire nerves and rambles with a suddenness Celestia found quite breakneck. She even found her tongue felt too stuck to correct Sombra on his peculiar formality of 'pouláriphilic', "could you possibly have to be sorry about? Does it bother you that you'd have a dozen conspiracy theories and whispers of cover-ups that there was a big, bad demon among the royal ranks blazing through the newspapers the next morning? Would you lose sleep at night knowing I would have to be charged with my very existence?"
Celestia wanted to fly as far away from Sombra's eyes as possible; they were flooded with all the worry and irritation that drenched his outpouring of words. No matter how barbed their edges were, it was uncomfortably apparent that she was not the one between them who had ever lost a wink of sleep over the dilemma he described.
She kept herself stuck to her chair while the parlor felt shrunken with palpable anxieties because she wanted to be kind. A whole flock of monarchs was writhing in her stomach like nothing else had in a very long time, but by Luna's stars, she really did just want to be kind. The whole room swam with dank negativity, the kind gathered from being around poor company, sad company, and all the variations thereof. So much of that was reflected in Sombra, and she didn't need any gosh-darned magic sense to know something awful was at hoof. No elephant in her pretty little parlor was to go unturned, or however, the sayings were meant to go.
"Maybe you do," she ventured, keeping her words as hesitant as a test-shy foal asking about bad marks. How badly she wanted to deter any re-emerging loathing between them. "Luna could always help pay if you refuse my offers."
"No!" Sombra insisted, looking half-horrified of all things that she even suggested he have any help. "I told you I can afford my own therapy; I'm me-damned royalty. Don't ever suggest I make my wife put a single bit to my complaints department."
To nod, Celestia ducked her head meekly, lips pressed tightly together so that they went whiter. He's using Dr. Tagträumer's time for much more than simple complaints and I can't say he's making much of an attempt to hide how he guards that. "My mistake, then. An old mare like me simply witnesses too many couples fix each other with romance."
The anger that began to smolder in Sombra's eyes, making the irises look even more vivid tugged at the primal part of Celestia that wanted to run away and bury this meeting with all the other disturbing secrets of the castle. She did not belong to the herd-minds in the ways that her ponies did, but Sombra's being screamed that he was a predator creature in a way that stirred such a response. He was the tense center point of fear, warping the atmosphere of her sweet parlor with all the tension of driving pins into the frog of one's hoof.
"That has never been the case with our relationship. Do you understand me?"
The sheer strength of his last demand was just a reminder of his potential for absolute, terrifying anger, and it could've been driven into her at no worse time.
"Yes," she whispered, her forehooves clutching at one another tightly. She dropped her gaze to where they lay clasped in an uncharacteristically submissive gesture, taking in the quietest breath to fuel her next words.
Sombra's sharp perception stole the chance from her. "Don't."
Don't what? was what she knew her eyes said before she could mask it.
"Don't," he drew out the word with a clipped tone that bore more venom than any serpent, "you think for whatever reason that I'm not appreciative of everything Luna has done for me. She is not my crutch, and Tartarus knows she isn't around to fix me. You are so quick to portray yourself as accepting, and yet she's accepted..." He trails off, anger reduced to embers of worry, and Celestia claims her chance.
"I can only apologize again if you misinterpreted my words — I didn't mean that in your case specifically. You're nowhere near as young as the ponies that usually befalls." The lameness of her last poor attempt at reassurance hadn't convinced Sombra.
"I'm not old," he muttered sourly.
More peony petals scattered between them as the pause dragged out with each painstakingly slow patter of her heart. "Sombra?"
He shrugged indifferently at her questioning tone. It was as much of a 'go on' as anything was.
"I know..." she began with the same tone she offered to a Faithful Student mourning a dead goldfish as their first loss. "I know that the Crystal Empire changed you... and that whatever youth you might have had was..."
She paused, looking at those petals. Delicate matters required delicate words, and the first one that came to mind was 'damaged' — something that simply wouldn't do.
"...hurt. And hurt badly by somepony who was close to you. I'm not sure how it is for demons to try and figure out what it means to... to be young and innocent in the same way that it is for everypony else. I just want you to know that even though we may not, ah, get along as much as we should, I do know ponies who know what it's like to have somepony who resides so closely... do some very terrible things. As a youth, ponies I knew treated Luna very cruelly... I..."
That was enough; it had to be. She was not the one who could be all emotional and personal over these things, and here she was already faltering. Maybe she had not had her composure slip in a fatal move that would leave her unable to claim the upper hoof once more, but digging into matters of Starswirl... was it worth the risk in unearthing such things, if only for a short time? To say those things happened to her by collapsing all the complications?
There were certainly enough parallels with Starswirl that nothing would be tangled for the worse, and she needed to forge the kind of connections to keep Sombra listening long enough to pull back some of his walls. Would stories of a stallion he had barely known if at all, have enough to get him to really be invested in something she said for once?
Currently, Sombra had drawn back into his seat, recoiling with an odd expression she could only puzzle out as shyness and something resembling territorial displeasure, and he held himself oddly, drawing into his withers with his recoil. While his ears were still, he was very close to pinning them back entirely. Something was a bit off about his scowl; there was the slightest curl to it showing the barest hint that the fangs of, well, a monster were under that lip if he chose to curl it fully.
"And what have you been prying into? I have a hard time believing that either you or Luna was close with Starswirl. Are you trying to extract pity from me by digging where you shouldn't, you invasive little parasite?"
Celestia kept her wince half-frozen and softened its movements and intensity at his barbs, keeping a perfect plaster expression. She wouldn't have come to feel how she did about Starswirl if she hadn't attempted to see him as family or grow close to him a long, long time ago. Though, Sombra was right about Luna never trying.
"I assure you, there's no need for anger, and your pity isn't of interest to me. I... I don't think 'prying' is the word you're looking for—"
His angry glare speared through her, burning such unneeded doubt upon her words. (What she did note was that he had an ear swiveled toward the door, as if he were trying to hear hoofsteps that would not come.)
"—and that I only bring this up because you were young once too." She stopped herself from swallowing, speaking her next words with more of a whisper: "Weren't you?"
Still scowling, Sombra gave a small nod. Celestia couldn't be sure if he was he was looking at her.
"Do you really presume that I try and manipulate you at every turn?" she asked, softening her voice to a conspiratorial whisper (though, that part was likely the effect of her stifled nerves).
"You don't know how to not be manipulative."
Nopony had ever said such a thing to her; at least nopony that she hadn't managed to draw back to her and offer countless apologies. After all, Luna hadn't totally strayed from under Celestia's trusting wing and she had Discord by her side. Only this stallion before her regarded her with any kind of opposition; she had truly thought that their gatherings together had been steadily pacifying him. Even rulers across land and sea had not had quite the silly grudge for her when diplomacy took precedence over all else — there was no hostility that could be shown to her without gaining the hate of her herd of subjects too.
She need not even bite her tongue. There was no venomous retort she had reserved for him. Other occasions could be reserved for pulling apart his stubborn (and there was no good stubbornness) resistance to ever thinking well of her.
"Now..."
Was her voice more careful or fragile to Sombra? Every new sentence she spun was an effort delicate and tippy-hoofing around the questions she had burning in her chest. (Goodness, wasn't it terribly accurate that the God of Knowledge exposed that dark heart of curiosity? Regarding Sombra, every question was painful and the answers loomed, entirely unwanted and dreaded.)
"...no matter how you may feel about me, would you really say I don't know how easily scared youth are? You and I were kept under cruel authority, regardless of our powers, which is something nopony else will really understand." The wave of Celestia's hoof was not careful enough, and she had to ignore how she de-petaled a few peonies. "I think your treatment was probably far crueler than what Luna and I knew, too. Aside from our pasts, don't you know how many terrified foals I have known?"
His eyes never left her, and Celestia tried not to notice how he fidgeted with obvious discomfort.
With careful composure, Celestia eased out a sigh, letting it leave her as a calming exhale. "A teacher is merely the ruler of her student. No matter the distance between myself and my ponies, I am well aware of their fears." Her heartbeat drowned out her inner voices during her pause. "I would like to think I know something of yours too."
Sombra's eyes found the door behind her faster enough to leave fear crawling up Celestia's belly in all its ugliness.
"Why won't you tell Luna that Onyx mind raped you?"
His response was to jump up abruptly enough for the alarm to escape Celestia's composure. Sombra's ferocity twisted his expression into something that was horrifying even without his dark magic flaring. His chair crashed behind him and with more swiftness than she would expect from a stallion of his height, he wove his way to the side of the table, closer to the shelves.
"THAT DIDN'T HAPPEN!"
His anger sent her heartbeat galloping like it hadn't in ages, when a different stallion was screaming at her, standing over her ready to strike, and at this moment she could not pretend she was a happy apprentice to some homely old sorcerer hero. Sombra's livid anger was laid over Starswirl's boorish bellowing in her mind, and it was enough that she couldn't stop her legs from trembling — by the time she realized they were, Sombra had likely already seen her display of weakness.
"I have proof—"
"YOU HAVE NOTHING!" Sombra screamed, and Celestia's ducked gaze caught how the way he had himself poised felt so evilly hackles-raised and the like. "IT WASN'T LIKE THAT!"
Her heart was pounding quickly enough to make her feel ill. She had only glimpsed his eyes, and the sight of how wild and disturbed they were was enough to make her body sing with the pulse of pure fear, even though it was she who stood between the demon and the sealed door.
"How could your experience not be so, Sombra? Did you not tell him 'no' at any point for the pain he caused you?"
An ill hesitation came over Sombra, his eyes flooding with this broken look momentarily. It was all Celestia needed to see to know that Sombra had never once said that to Onyx.
"It doesn't matter," Celestia whispered. "I don't think anypony would have to say they didn't want to be put through any kind of rape for their experience to count."
"Stop saying that!" Sombra growled roughly, stepping back. His breathing was ragged like he was some kind of cornered beast.
"Yes, well, I suppose you are the one who needs to say it. I know you have so little faith in me, but I did come across some papers of yours through entirely accidental means. I know that it was your bits that were given to that shelter, and as unfortunate as it may be, most will not make such vast donations with secrecy when matters with such... darkness they cannot understand."
"Let me out!" Sombra demanded snarling, drawing himself to his full threatening potential. His magic flared with a torrent of intimidating magic. Charged, vivid crimson swirled with the malignant hues of his dark aura, so abominable and hellish.
Celestia let her wings spread out gradually like curtains being pulled out, so as not to rile the heaving creature up any more than he already was. "I'm not sure you should be anywhere else in this state," she said, letting her words out with the delicacy of tippy-hoofing, as best as she could still hold herself so.
Sombra was having none of it. He shoved past her with such force that Celestia staggered back a few steps. There was an initial shock all wrapped up with the involuntary disgust that came from the contact. Panic was starting to set into them both, too painfully obvious for her to deny as her mind reached for the tatters of her initial plan (door, magic, defusion) and prattled with the rest of her self-talk.
She needed control; Sombra wanted out. His body was flecked with evidence of his power. Swirls of shadow wove in with his mane — or were his mane — and tail, moving with how his breathing was frighteningly fast and irregular. She couldn't describe the creepiness of magic's contact with his eyes as anything but invasive — and yet, the way those red-slitted draconic eyes were teeming with fear was...
It was...
She had to do better than this. What excuse was not getting along? What excuse of any kind could there be to leave him a mess or try and salvage what she could? How many more Starswirls, Sunset Shimmers, Fizzy Pops, Sorrel Laces, and creatures like that could she have in her life?
"Please! I only want to help you! I don't know what you've been through, but I know what it is like to have to put one's problems aside for survival's sake. Do you think others haven't survived such ordeals? Forget me, I know you have spoken with Shining Armor. He was able to get treatment for his traumas. Didn't Cadance ever mention it? You're probably skeptical of it with what I'm sure Luna has filled you in on immortality, but more therapy might work for you, even in your circumstances. You weren't born everlasting; there could still be a chance for your mind to be studied and helped."
His hoofsteps clattered antsily, and the anxious swishing of Sombra's tail couldn't go unnoticed.
Had what I said just scared him more? How could it, when I've offered him a chance at goodness?
Sombra yelped in pain as soon as his aura launched toward the door, watching as the surface quaked and repel his effort, glowing with a hot white aura that dimmed in a flash of iridescent light.
Reddish, unnatural slit pupils widened in terror. Two gray ears were pinned back, a sign reeking of aggression that made Celestia all too aware of the hollow feeling in her stomach.
"You've done it again, Celestia."
"It's not what you think—"
"ENOUGH!" Sombra's back legs were shaking just slightly in stark contrast to the fury of his voice. Should she have noticed sooner? "Just let me out! You're an absolutely vile mare and you know I can make you if you refuse me."
Punctuating his point with the utmost malevolence was the dark magic surging on his horn in a translucent torrent.
The freezing tingle of fear washed over Celestia's body with terrible clarity. "And why this violent denial? Can't you just tell me that you were a victim of—"
Pain flashed across Sombra's face, all caught up with a renewed look of resentment that swallowed it soon after. "Never call me that."
But what else can I call somepony on the disadvantaged side of such an ordeal?
Sombra growled, letting a warning shot loose. He aimed downward playing on her size disadvantage, where the stray sparks of dark aura singed her as she stumbled back. There was none of the pleasure Celestia expected in his expression at the pained gasp she gave.
"To think that I was willing to offer somepony like you a chance to show that you can do more than scheme and sabotage. Just what is it that has you convinced you help others more than you hurt them? What is that makes you think exaggerating—"
Did he suggest that his efforts towards friendship with me were... earnest? Celestia's magic reaches for places unseen, writhing around in the areas in the walls only magic knew to probe the various wards. Thankfully, they were intact and Sombra's efforts hadn't tainted the light magic. Doesn't he realize how anypony could tell how his voice slips with 'exaggerating'?
"—something over and done in my life in order to compare it to a completely different ordeal? Can't you go one day without baselessly sorting others by your unreliable standards?"
"You're acting like—"
"I'm not acting like anything," Sombra spat, brandishing his magic as a warning. His mane and tail had almost entirely shifted to shadow. "You present yourself as a sickly sweet and modest do-gooder instead of a paranoid nag Tartarus-bent on choosing — because, yes, you choose to do all these terrible things — to dig up what you know you shouldn't."
(He has a point, chided the awfulest of inner whispers.)
"I found concerning information and am trying to help you. The safety of our subjects is paramount, and being held in the best hooves possible is part of such a duty! Would you really believe I would ignore your suffering after all the ruin that has brought me in the past?"
"Only if it kept you from looking delusional."
A lump arose in Celestia's throat, threatening all that she could still cling to with reflexes regarding the Terrible, No-Good Past and all it would haunt her with. "I'm afraid I have said some very nasty things to you before I knew these things, and for that I am sorry. I really only did mean them at the time."
There was an art to balancing disgust and anger, and it was one Sombra had mastered. Even his magic made his eyes flash red for a moment, making her shiver. "How can you believe I would expect anything good from you?! I should have expected you weren't really trying to help Luna."
"Why is it that you believe I'm always going to manipulate somepony?" said Celestia, lowering her ears forlornly. "Won't you believe that I wish to help you just once? Name what I can give you to ensure your belief, and I'll try and procure it."
"No bribe of yours will get you sympathy," Sombra scoffed harshly, his upper lip curled to show off his revealed fangs in full. "A pot knows a kettle."
"I'm sure Twilight Sparkle knew you were a manipulator when you two went northward too."
"I never hid the fact that I was using her. You've hidden that's what you do to her and it's why she doesn't know the difference."
"And as a front for what?" Celestia murmured, keeping her gaze on Sombra's knees. "Why would you want to revisit such a terrible spot in your life, and one in Onyx's too? What could make revisiting what I'm sure to be a traumatic location in your life too so desirable?"
That nervous breathing of Sombra's picks up again. There was no joy in backing Sombra onto such thin ice in this encounter, and she observed the nervous wavering of his eye smoke with a look of pure pity that she had been maintaining for some time now. Under all his stubbornness, temper, and madness he really was little more than a wretched victim. And what should a victim have but pity?
"'Desirable' isn't a word fit for that trip," Sombra muttered darkly, pawing at the floor with obvious frustration.
"Mhm, I wouldn't think it was. Perhaps 'catharsis' is more fitting? Twilight's descriptions of your shortness and behavior with her remind me all too much of the broken soldiers who try to revisit battlegrounds, only to have their minds somewhere on the edge of battle still. She told me that you even, ah, decided to start sampling—"
"Stop," he growled, gritting his teeth. "Just stop."
Blinking, Celestia noted that a few drops of sweat were already coursing down the shaking stallion's face. "My apologies, considering what Luna told me about the nature of your, ah, issues it does sound like you might have nearly relapsed."
"SHUT UP!" screamed Sombra, eyes reverted back to equine irises flooded with the same unhinged panic in his voice.
"You don't understand! I've spoken with those who know you, and you are well-supported, nor are you alone in being a victi—"
His growl cut her off from finishing. Aside from the fear his brutish hostility could evoke, she couldn't help but feel like she had cantered into a wall head-first with his loathing of one little word.
"Why won't you just tell Luna?"
"Tell Luna what?!" Sombra demanded, something raw and wounded suddenly dumped into his tone, which was already making Celestia uncomfortable despite her best efforts. "Had this really happened, what in Tartarus' name makes it okay for me to have—"
"She's told me of nightmares she doesn't know how to handle. For goodness sake, she worries about you!"
"I KNOW DAMN WELL SHE WORRIES ABOUT ME! WHAT MAKES YOU THINK I WOULD WANT TO HURT HER MORE?" Sombra's emotion was peeled away and left before her in full force, from the show of his magic to the nearly petrified state of his rage-and-fear all twisted into how he shook — a degree of expression that Celestia could have never imagined on his sort. "DO YOU THINK I WANT HER TO HURT HERSELF AGAIN?"
Sometimes, Celestia liked to pretend that the Tantabus was not something beyond an incident and that a whole town had not had privy to the iceberg tip of the pain Celestia had been blind to. It hurt less to think that she hadn't been there after vowing to protect Luna so much, and that very similar fear was encroaching upon all her thoughts if she couldn't...
No, that couldn't be so. She would not let such shameful thoughts permeate what little control she could still claim over the situation.
Just let me help him, even if it may be in the smallest way. Please.
"I..." Celestia swallowed a lump not borne of fear or sadness crawling up her throat, paining her. "I know she worries about you, that's why I think she'll have nothing but understanding to offer you when you tell her."
"I'm not just anypony Luna consoles in a dream!" Sombra's front knees nearly knocked together. "I'm her husband..."
"Yes, and you're not one to be so worked up over little hypotheticals, are you?" Celestia pointed out, her last shreds of calmness all but peeling away from her tone.
Sombra's ears folded. The look in his eyes was lost to her, something she could describe simply as turmoil from somepony caught in the epicenter of their own world.
"I'm her husband..." he whispered, again, transfixed by whatever horror sprung into his mind.
Celestia watched the gulp ride down his throat. Its descent was the anxiety-mounting calm before the last storm. Sombra's complexion had become ashen with everything that made Celestia freeze up with worry.
Just what was she to do now...?
Sombra answered for her, the intensity of his presence casting a violently palpable menacing ambiance enough to momentarily stun Celestia. His magic was overwhelming all other light, casting disturbing shadows of moody colors crookedly across the room in the most sinister way.
The door warded with her powers of sanctuary screamed under the strain of Sombra's magic. Celestia's heart rattled along with it, only to be lost under the thunderous thuds.
"Please stop," she whispered. "Please, we can work through this—"
Celestia couldn't admit that she wasn't the one for working through things; Luna was firmly established as being the one who had insight and ability in such areas. However, Celestia knew a problem when she saw one, and though this was no ruler's problem to be isolated and done away with like pawns were pushed from her board of plans, but those that required the white goddess of peace she was proclaimed to be in ages long since passed...
"I'm begging you to please listen to me, even if it is only this once! I meant you no harm! I'm sorry you have been a victim of unspeakable things by somepony you knew and were close to. I... I don't think the crystal ponies should say some of the things they do about you. Though, I'm sure you understand that what they have been through is similar to your struggles and that kinship could be found with them."
...she wished she could still be that mare was beyond anything she knew to say.
The whole room was shrouded in straying magic, the colors of Sombra's temperamental dark aura the subdued, demonic flair to the dizzying under the prominence of the hazy crimson light. The latter was so great in amount that her coat looked niece-pink.
"Please!" Celestia pleaded. "Please, stop this! You shouldn't do this to yourself!"
Every echo of Sombra's attempt to force the ensorcelled door to obey his will thundered in her ears. Panic burned in her chest, cramping it and forcing a whimper from a wide-eyed and mortified Celestia. His horn was swirling with crimson magic, and it was plain to see he was ready to wink out, his whole silhouette made bright with magic...
...for a full couple of heartbeats. The light of his form snapped, wavered, and fell in on itself. With a distressed growl, Sombra was left right where he stood, a whitish-blue sear from her own barriers having burst from his attempt. The minor singes on his horn would have been something much less minuscule on another creature but were enough to leave Sombra irritated and frightened.
"You s-shouldn't harm yourself over this; please I do not know how much more pleading I can do with you, but I cannot let you go anywhere when you're going to hurt yourself! What would Luna think?!"
Sombra shuddered, his whole form wavering and oddly translucent. His varying colors of magic crackling throughout his whole body made him look much more opaque.
"Are you...?" her voice, hoarse with clogged-up fear waiting to burst failed her.
How was she supposed to finish her question? What was it even supposed to be? He looked like one of the public service animations pegasi played, only corrupted. Was she supposed to think that was okay?!
Sombra stabilized with each heaving breath he took, eyes wild with magic and a storm of emotions Celestia would only think to attribute to a feral animal. Whatever he was trembling with was something beyond rage and fear or any identifiable mixture of the two. Only one thought occurred to Celestia: he's going to hurt himself.
Letting her self-inflicted barriers peel away was tricky. She dug within herself, easing into the kind of magic she needed with all possible haste, and wanting no more pain to come from this encounter. The act was like dog-earring some kind of metaphorical page within herself to create a crevice, and her horn flowed with wispy white woven with fantastic, iridescent rainbow light.
The magic was Harmony's own light, and the spell was one she had used many times before. When a pony was inconsolable before her and she had no words to offer, she would call upon what was left of the Bearer she had been. The practiced spell had been useful on Faithful Students and friends that Celestia had to be the foundation for.
It was a spell that sought the lightness within a pony and brought them a memory of comfort, doing nothing but merely reminding them of a time of peace and positivity that they had experienced, no matter how small. It did not seek to banish anything dark, purify, or ward from any corruption in the way Sundrop Talismans were meant to. There was no care about good or evil in the spell, just bringing something pacifying to mind.
Celestia's eyes were squeezed shut, and the white light flooding them froze her in place and invaded her thoughts. She could not avoid the piercing brightness of it any more than a pony who stood outside on a midsummer's day could avoid her sun just by closing their eyes. This outpouring of light blinded her to Sombra's immediate reaction...
...at first.
The utterly un-equine sound that came from Sombra was a pained yowl. The reverberating howl was not one she could imagine even a beast making. The only creatures to make such calls in Celestia's mind were wraiths and foul beings of Tartarus' unseen depths. No earthly mortal being was to produce such a call! And yet, Sombra was neither of those things, nor was she.
Celestia's eyes shot open, pure fear dry and raw in her throat.
For what she saw, no words sprung to mind and the silver tongue she usually took some reassurance in having was dead in her mouth. Sombra was half-shifted to shadow, fangs exposed with how his mouth hung open and he kept crying out.
That soul-chilling noise he was making was a call that he was wounded. But how could he be?! She cast no magic that might hurt him, and yet he was pawing at his head and shaking it around, dashing and drifting about madly. Despite his ferocious speed, she could see swirls of hot white light pouring from his eyes (which was a natural effect of the spell!) and blinding him in his frenzied movements.
Eventually, Sombra ran into one of the walls and cried out again, this time with another particularly agonized yowl. The wards Celestia had woven into the walls, floor, and ceiling rippled visibly and pulsed with their own auras. All this only made Sombra scream when he made contact, parts of his body visibly shifted to shadow under his cloak when he reeled away.
For a few moments, after he dashed away, Sombra stumbled between where Celestia stood and the closet. He dashed forward, foreign magic still obscuring his vision and bringing forth the wellspring of memories only meant to be pleasant. From where he cowered on the ground, shaking with forehooves over his eyes, and with his hindquarters raised Celestia could hear his whimpering.
He was cowering before her in a way she had never seen him, injured beyond any way she could explain, and with his ears lowered.
Whatever she had done, it was enough that this stallion would no longer want to pretend to be her friend anymore. It was the very thing she had been toying with making Sombra feel since he had escaped her grasp when Twilight Sparkle was injured on their Arctic journey...
...and she couldn't hate it more.
By the time Celestia had opened her mouth, prepared to offer any defusing platitude, Sombra had melted to shadow and barrelled into the gaping doorway of the closet. His abstract form pulled the door behind him with a frightening slam that echoed uncomfortably in Celestia's whole body.
To complete the crashing horror was the sound coming from the other side of the closet door. First was a thud, which did nothing to add to the crushing claustrophobia the parlor suddenly cast over her. No, it was what followed that scared her most.
Sombra was crying.
Worse still was not that Sombra was crying, but that he was a bawler. Strong, sloppy, heaving sobs shattered any quiet that might have begun, stunning Celestia. This stallion may have been victimized at many points in his life, but that didn't stop him from being nigh-heartless and devoid of affection. He was a being of shadow and the foulest sorcery, and he carried himself just like any creature of his origins would...
...and now he was slumped behind a closet door, crying his eyes out. Sombra cried like something was being extracted from him, all jagged and ugly.
Celestia could not even remember the last time she heard a stallion cry — the scenario was one that always made her uncomfortable, and the sound alone robbed her of any way to reign in the cringe of discomfort on her face. When a stallion cried, Celestia was at a loss on how to react due to how frightening some of the displays of male turmoil had been. A stallion cried like the world could end, or at least only let a few tears escape, in her experience. She loved stallions for the mates, friends, and subjects they could be, but there was something obvious in them she lacked insight into, something less pronounced in mares like herself.
Not this. Not whatever terrible madness drove poor, pitiful Sombra to these kinds of fits of emotion. Sweet heavens, there was a rough, hiccup-y gagging (of all things!) she could hear in his crying. This was a subtle horror she could not explain. Never could she imagine that Sombra was capable of crying, not before this. He made the stonewall, knightly, mellow, and fun spectrum of all that stallions could be pale in comparison to his callous, stoic attitude and now he was crying and she had absolutely no idea what to do!
"None of this was supposed to happen," Celestia offered quietly, now standing before the closet door. Her shadow fell upon the surface, wavering in a silent taunt of her lost composure.
The most horrible headache was starting to pain her, nevertheless, she tried again.
"Y-You do know that you are still safe here... don't you? Is there anything I can do? Would you want tea? Tissues?"
When the only answer Celestia was made to listen to were the sobs of Sombra, she dared to step forwards and rapped on the closet door. Once. Twice.
"STAY AWAY FROM ME!"
The roar of Sombra's voice tore through the parlor, harsh and bleeding with emotion that spoke volumes about the torrent of tears he had been shedding. One would think that he had never cried before by how clumsy everything about his voice sounded. How fragile.
Did he even know how to cry? Or, was the opposite true, and that was why he sounded so frightened? The thought of a creature not knowing how to cry only let that creeping sense of fear dance at the edge of her feathers again. A victim he may be, but that did not free him from being a cold creature... one that was not wholly equine in emotional capacity, even if he knew how to feel some of the most primal things...
...like fear.
Listening to anypony in such despair was worse than being kicked in the stomach. That awful ache sat so foully in here that Celestia contemplated on whether being kicked in her gut by somepony wearing metal boots — as Sombra did — only once would have been more bearable than this whole ordeal.
Only the thought of what Luna would do to her was nauseatingly worse, enough to make her feel dizzyingly sick. An ugly ache was starting near where her horn met her head, letting the unfortunate cramps of horned beings sweep down and make her withers cramp up. This made it painful for Celestia to continue her current, sulky hunch.
Be it out of sadness or anger, Luna would... there was no way Luna would be as quick to see Celestia's side of things.
Celestia shivered, stepping back skittishly at the weight of her thoughts. Luna would not don the helm of Nightmare Moon over this, would she? She couldn't!
...Could she?
...Keeping Sombra in here any longer would surely prove worse for her... even if he would likely seek out Luna...
...immediately.
Celestia swallowed, the shroud of abandonment of any serenity weighing on her more than her own crown.
No magic in the world could turn back something like this... save the very kind every villain in history and Sombra could claim mastery over. And Celestia was no villain.
The haziness of the world hurt Celestia, snapping her back from her wavering staring spell. She had to let Sombra go, and accept any fallout that followed, as long as nopony else was swept into what had happened.
Celestia's horn flickered with golden light, riddled with blue hints from her mind being hot with fear. Regret positively at her, too ruthless to hold itself off until later, and half-thought-out attempts at apologies and excuses burbled and floundered in her head, overwhelming her with their white noise.
All her wards fell away, the sound dim over the emotional doomsday buzzing in her head.
Before the unseen walls had completely fallen away, Sombra's shadow form seeped out from the gaps around the closet door.
Letting out an airy squeak, Celestia stumbled back, her eyes wide and terrified at the suddenness. Out whooshed the shadow-demon, pushing the closet open with a force that left Celestia petrified at the sight. He — because yes, that thing was still the stallion who had been weeping moments before — barrelled out. Out went Sombra, prying open the parlor door forcefully and whooshing down the castle halls. A haunting wail followed, and Celestia was left to thaw from her stunned state.
She trotted gingerly, careful not to step on her stilled mane, and peered around the doorway.
Sombra was nowhere in sight, and all the thoughts cantering madly in Celestia's head made her wonder...
It's all your fault, prodded the nastiest part of herself. It shouldn't matter anyway. He is nothing to you but an enemy.
No, unfortunately, all of that happened. Even if Sombra had been pretending to be her friend for Luna's sake, nothing Celestia thought of could rationalize hurting him. Not like this...
You're despicable. Even he knows it, and yet he still played the game of trying to trust you.
...She really had failed. The realization made Celestia's voluminous, colorful tail sag.
You failed.
More than anything else, Celestia wanted that terrible piece of her to shut up. This never should have happened! All she had intended was to offer what help she could, lest she make the same mistake as before and leave somepony to be neglected and alone.
She was the head of a nation, capable of controlling a heavenly body, and held millions of ponies at rapt attention as soon as she walked into a room. All her subjects hung on her every word, each little pony determined to please her even in the face of her well-intended teasing...
...and she couldn't help Sombra.
Everything she spent her eternity on was everypony else. All the shreds that made up her time, effort, magic, and self were paid to improve another's situation. Her own cutie mark was because she wanted to keep the world in her light and clutch them under any shelter she could offer, as a wall or mother might...
...and she had failed to help somepony...
"Celestia?" Luna's worried voice called, tense and bearing a frantic edge. A bluish blue was distant against Celestia's far-away vision, somewhere down the hall with wings spread from a recent flight. "Oh Celestia, there you are!"
Was Luna glad to see her? Celestia couldn't tell; it was like trying to listen to somepony underwater.
If she could stake herself and the chiseled image she nurtured so diligently on trying to help Sombra and still fail what good was she at anything?
The only answer Celestia was able to give herself was to stand, rooted to the floor, and listen to her heart plunge.
She was the one everypony called a hero and she hadn't managed to help somepony!
Celestia's horn had long since dimmed, and she could not manage to pull even the ghost of a reassuring smile on as Luna approached.
Her head was oddly silent.
"Celestia, where have you been? Have you not seen Sombra? Did you not hear his distress? I know it was him, and I believe some foul being might have invaded the castle!"
Luna cantered forward, her blue-green eyes filled with the wildness of a thunderstorm when she stood at the edge of Celestia's shadow. "Sister, are you bewitched? I need you to listen to me; I have never heard Sombra make such a call, but only a fool would not sense its distress."
Celestia's head was too quiet; every whisper to tug at her lost and fallen to nothing. The world of whispers in her mind had fallen completely silent, and remained so.
"I don't know where he went," offered Celestia quietly.
"What do you mean, you don't know?!" came Luna's testy, almost desperate reply. She stomped her hoof to punctuate her urgency and a booming crackle of white shot through her mane. "One of the maids said she last saw Sombra with you! Were the two of you attacked?"
She was without suggestion, dipping into anything she could say like a cat scraping up trash for scraps.
"No," creaked Celestia. "Not at all. I don't know where... Oh, Luna, he just left."
"What do you mean?" Luna shot back, anger seamlessly flowing into her stance. Her daughter's state probed at her, taking in the ghostly look on Celestia's face, her mane falling in a lax pastel heap, and something fell together in the sharp mind of the simmering mare before her.
Something wormed its way to the front of Celestia's head, pressing on her thoughts like a foal sticking their muzzle up against a sweet shop window, fogging it up. Something dark and cutting, that twisted her horn ache just below the threshold where it knew she wouldn't flinch. Wouldn't react.
"Celestia?"
She was the sweets behind the window; the little predator of her mind was the hungry foal. This thing knew that, squeezing around like a worm. Like a guest... and one that knew its way around.
And Celestia wasn't entirely sure just what was sauntering to the front of her head like that, only that there was an echo of familiarity in it.
"...Mhm-hmm?" A few feverish beads of sweat slipped down her brow.
"What did you do to Sombra?"
For a minute, Celestia felt like she was watching herself, completely a guest in her own skin. This was not because she felt the occasional disconnect grip her, but like she was pushed away from something she had been reading. A play of herself she had been authoring every act of, and only now the absence of the script in her hooves occurred to her.
And the abysmal feeling came with all the nothingness that made her want to scream...
...if she could still feel herself at all.
"All we did was have a discussion about his... potential for fatherhood," came the reply from Celestia's mouth.
No! We spoke nothing of that! I said no such thing to him!
The echo of her thoughts was thunder thrown back at her. Ineffective. Individual. For her ears only.
"I suggested that it was wise he reconsiders the plans you two had."
No, no, no, no, no! Stop this! Whatever 'this' was, she could not say. No episode she have had was like this; nothing out of body she could feel ever felt like being nothing, in nowhere, with nopony around. When was the last time she was withering inside herself, like she had been shoved away from her own body?
Angry tears poked at the corner of Luna's eyes, and one rapid flash tore through her mane, following the furious lash of it. The split-second darkness that followed revealed the wrathful shock so passionately in the place of every emotion she had shown since her arrival.
"I will deal with you and your wickedness later, Celestia." Her name so terrible was poison on Luna's tongue, spoken through gritted teeth. "To think you would dig your way into where you should have never been and disparaged a stallion who tried to be your friend!"
...Except, hadn't Sombra been humoring Luna as much as she was? Tolerating Sombra was one thing, but he had not been actually making any sincere attempt to befriend her, had he? This was the same stallion who admitted most of his positive relationships began with combat and ponynappings; there was no way he sought any kind of positive feelings from her. At least, that was unlikely if she was not in a setting where he could control her.
Luna took off, a streak of whitish light blooming violently as her flight trail as she rushed down the hall.
If she was saying nothing to Luna, then what was?
Who, chimed a sleek echo, only driving Celestia to feel so much number. I am not a what; I have always been a who, no matter your attempts to cripple me.
What do you mean? Just what are you?
There was a ragged, terrible snicker sounding all around her. The brokenness and falseness of it sliced at Celestia's nerves, making her clumsily huddle in all the nothingness she found herself as.
The voice was decidedly feminine, low, liquid, and terrible in both its oiliness and malice. It was nothing like any other voice Celestia had heard before: Luna's, Twilight's, Sunset's, or even the proud manner of Nightmare Moon.
I, came the voice again, only know myself as Hemera. There was nothing better for me to pick for myself. All of that is your fault, wicked princess of light.
...
Celestia,
I can find no iota of tranquility within me to convey this to you, nor would I offer you any such agreeableness where it would be wrong to conjure any. What happened with Sombra was absolutely appalling. I have yet to understand what happened entirely, for Sombra refuses to tell me exactly what that was. Whenever I try and approach the subject, he is unable to find the words to explain anything, or he could simply be terrified to, and he is not a stallion easily made afraid. He is troubled and made deeply unwell by whatever it was that you really did, and after staying with him when I can, I can deduce whatever you did was magical in nature. His eyes held a horrible recognition when I inquired about the experience.
No magic within your capability could bring him such pain other than light magic, no? Was it not I who told that light magic can wound Sombra because of the magic from which he originates? Did I not do so on multiple occasions?
Sombra is jittery and is resting more poorly than he usually does when his nightmares flare up. I have found none of the severe burns and injuries I would have expected from any external use of light magic, so I can only conclude he suffered a wound of the spirit. I have done my best to soothe him and bring him to a better state of mind when he strays into a distraught or angry state, and if I must keep him from his duties for a longer stretch of time, then I shall. Was it, not I that explained to you time and time again that because of Sombra's past experiences, he has lacked the build-up of behaviors for calming oneself and defusing anxious emotions we were fortunate to gain?
Celestia, you did this to him. While Sombra may have his lapses into irritability he aims at nopony, I know who to take up my grievances with, and I have many! When I am certain that my voice will not carry half the harshness of these words, you and I shall speak. There was no justification for whatever you inflicted upon Sombra, the stallion I have grown to know completely in our time together. Absolutely none!
I loathe having to start these conversations with you, for it is still you that manages to make me feel invisible sometimes. Even after all these years, we may be able to rule together and make peace when it comes to our greatest schisms, but there has always been much to separate us. And still, there is nothing that could ever mend your actions so easily here. This is not the same as when you thought my idea to have the Bearer of Laughter reform Discord was not as fine as yours, or any lesser conflict of ours.
I think that it is quite obvious something has not wholly departed from our conflicts past, or you have been withholding some personal darkness in your heart that you see fit to express towards Sombra. What has he done to warrant such torment from you?
Did he not tell you he had boundaries to what you could speak of with him? Would he never rebuke anything he deemed invasive? Had he offered no hints that you were upon thin ice with certain subjects, sister? I know Sombra, and he is not one to take such nosy behaviors lightly. I must confess not just my own horror at your actions, but at the chance my choice to confide private information about Sombra's health in you made you feel you could violate his privacy with such prying and a stars-forbidden interrogation. You and Sombra are family, and you had appeared with such earnesty. I saw strides to do as I had arranged and requested of you in showing good treatment to Sombra. I wanted to offer context to Sombra's health because I felt you could be ready to make a proper judgment of his character. Never did I think you would use it so deceitfully! I wouldn't have told you, had I known!
Sombra would have made his wish that you do not intrude in his private matters obvious, if not before that day, when he felt you were going too far. You are fully aware of how expressive he can be, and that he would hold naught but distaste for any time you overstepped his boundaries. You know enough of his emotional reactions for no doubt to remain when he panics or shows agitation. He does not have to speak to show so, nor does anypony when such strong feelings are involved, and I still feel like you will only listen to others when they say something.
No longer can you claim that Sombra is difficult for you to deal with, or that you desire some other chance. Hurting him this way only reflects upon you. Sombra wants nothing to do with you, and I want him to remain separated from you as much as possible. Stars know that you neglected to pay him any mind when he was only my fiancé. For me to take the role of an absolute middle-mare between the two of you and fetch anything he needs for his duties should be a blessing to you.
Had this just been another squabble you two had, I would not have the fury I do or protest any delegation. Both you and Sombra have getting along well enough that I did not think I would have to involve myself in any more spats or continue to have to make him sound like little more than a disability for you to be able to regard him with any decency.
The ponies of this nation are already so quick to try and pick apart my private life in any way they can without treading on the wrong side of the law, but I expected no such snooping from my own sister, for you have acted as though I ought to log every breath Sombra and I take with some of your less well-meaning questions. May I have no respite from humoring you?
I wish I were writing to you of just another plain worker of this castle who knows nothing of minding their tongue, or at the very least presents themselves with the illusion of dignity and professionalism one would expect from their positions. I have no desire to pen you a letter about anything this difficult, even as my quill manages to tear so furiously across this scroll. I want my trust in you to be sound and for the issue present to be less grievous than it is. Were it so, my anger would be more dismissable and within the realm of writing-to-Twilight, easy to solve, and puerile 'friendship problems'. Never would I have every reason to be so hurt for how you have thrown every chance Sombra and I gave you back at us; I had the utmost faith in you when you really did appear to be trying. Had you lied to my face all those times? Did you speak falsely to Sombra as well? Are we really not beyond your habit of dishonesty and mine of having to feel so slighted by you?
I wanted you to try and reach an understanding with Sombra with all my heart, sister. Privately sharing some of what he went through was an act of trust that I could never have expected would lead to you wanting me to divulge as much of Sombra's health as you wanted — and I certainly did not ever expect that you would use that information and his past struggles as a way to disparage his future plans. With you, I have had to make Sombra sound like he is an eternal victim in his life, which could not be further from the truth. Anything less than me laying his traumas out before you prevents you from listening to me or seeing Sombra with any goodwill, like that you would offer our subjects. I should not ever have to keep breaching the privacy of Sombra's past situations with you or have to reframe or offer alternate perspectives — you know as well as I do that there is never such a thing as consensual mind control!
Sombra may not be an especially nice pony, and while you have never failed to 'remind' me of that, however underhoofed you feel you must declare such a thing in any particular moment. And still, none of that has bearing on the matter. Lack of 'niceness' — if that is what you might call it — never means somepony should be handled with cruelty, nor should they be treated so if they have lower empathy as Sombra does. It is not some villainous deficiency with a need to be rectified like it is made out to be. He understands others with acute perception and skill in emotional intelligence, even when he does not feel for them. You, on the other hoof, have always made your sympathies clear and have assured me you do feel something for Sombra, and so obviously still have no understanding of him, even after all this time! How can dealing with this, whether it is by your own insistence or unintended, not drive me mad?
You chose your actions, for which there is no excuse, and they are far worse than anything you see in him. I do not mean to disparage the finer points of decorum and tradition in the castle, but I've felt that aspects of it that you have held highest are the most intertwined with the most superficial parts.
I know he was crying. To you, that may not appear like any more than an understandable — if shocking — reaction to his emotional state. Sombra is not one to cry when he is struggling, no matter the turmoil and upset he finds himself in — for him to do so is the telling detail that your chat with him was so frightful he was pushed to a limit that even I wasn't aware of. Somepony who struggles with an expression of hurt and fear was put through an experience beyond their limit because of you.
Tia, I know you, and that you are not wretched in being. None of your accountability is drained because of this, or even be diminished. I'm fully aware that hate is an immensely gratifying emotion as I am of you not retaining the obsessive, wholly uncaring qualities of a pony that feels your actions are just would possess. For all your faults and misdeeds, you aren't that kind of mare any more than I am my own — and now I can only write so with shame instead of understanding. Penning such a statement was not done in spite of my anger, but because of it.
You promised so much more than I could fit into this letter, and I've never thought of doubting your kind words and Big Sis Promises. How you treated Sombra is so unlike any way you have treated somepony before. He is the strongest creature I know, who always strives to succeed, seek truth, and rise above that which would bring him down. I've known him to survive so much, and how can I feel like you aren't trying to take something so admirable away from him?
With a heavy heart,
Luna
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10077310
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I am full of too many spoilers to be able to properly answer this in any other way.
10077318
Sure thing. Hit up the inbox whenever.
10077951
Well, I don’t usually give out specifics without a direct question. Since I can see a couple possible ways that your comment could be interpreted in regards to what questions it might have, it’s best to send the exact question you want answers to.