The Grand Princess
“No pony saw you.”
A taunt, from white lips unused to speaking them. But the face behind was not mocking or cruel. Soft pink eyes flared with uncharacteristic rage, and the torch seemed to reflect on them more brightly than its meager flame should allow. Celestia’s tall frame stood erect and calm, her expression a practiced one of cool disdain. Only those who knew her well could have sensed the faint tremble of agitation in the long legs, and the hiss of covered flame with every breath.
She continued speaking, more to herself than the chained mare at her hooves. “Even if some did, what of it? A few voices wildly proclaiming a new alicorn walks among us. The papers will be silent, I will deny it, and so will the others after I assure them. With no proof or further news to feed it, the rumors will die before month’s end.”
The prisoner gave no words in return. Her legs – even longer than Celestia’s – remained curled, laying her belly onto the hard stone floor of her cell. The wings too had folded meekly inwards. Only her head stood erect, casting straight red hair down the length of her white neck. The horn matched Celestia’s, longer and sharper than a unicorn’s, as did the eyes. Though a soft blue-green instead of pink, they mirrored Celestia’s in huge size as the mare met her stare. The challenge in Celestia’s voice was neither avoided nor countered, but heard with a silent and mournful frown. Almost as though the skinny mare wished to placate her, cooling the flames in eyes like a quiet sea.
Celestia was beyond such tricks. She spoke as a queen addressing her foe, “Why are you here?”
No reply came. The mare only gazed back, so Celestia went on. “The ponies call you, ‘Gaia.’ Mother of Worlds. I know your real name, but I don’t care to speak it. You have nothing left that is wanted, so why have you come back?”
More silence. Celestia slammed a hoof to the floor, sending a gunshot crack through the cell. The mare flinched, and as she looked again the imperial frown was gone from the princess’ face. An angry, bitter smile had replaced it, and the white legs’ tremble was no longer hidden. “Nothing to say? Justly so, I think. You have nothing to add that I have not accounted for. Or did you forget so easily who you placed in rule of Equestria? The once-pathetic sketch of a mare you clothed in glory and set as the keeper of wisdom. The one who encourages and hints and nudges your ponies forward. The one who knows, and plays her part so the right stories might be told.”
She gave a single, joyless laugh. “You didn’t forget. And neither did I. I have done as was expected of me. I’ve given the nudges and hints. I waited the thousand years with perfect knowledge the sister you created and stole from me would be returned. I endured the tortures, betrayals, and imprisonments, and I did you well! This world will endure as it has, as it must, until it endures no more. Til that moment comes it will be a land of love, forgiveness, and magic. All shall be as you willed when you first sketched my crown. It is as it should be, so what can you possibly add?”
“No!” Celestia shouted abruptly, though the mare made no move to speak. “Do not tell me, I do not care. Keep your silence, it suits you. You birthed this land, but I rule it. I’ve done so for twelve-hundred years, and you are – what? Forty? Fifty? But ah, how can I boast when it was your hoof – hand! – who made me so old? You who blessed me with wisdom and cursed me with awareness. Who blessed me seventy times with a sister I love beyond reason, cursed me with the knowledge she was never born, and stole her away because that’s the way the story goes. I am a thousand years old, however long ago you sketched me. I felt the thousand lovelorn years and endured them with the humility and patience of one who knows her place. I am the caretaker, the nanny, who does not tell her children the numberless crimes your race has worked. Not the pony skin you now wear, but the decaying race which spawned you, and who you created us to serve. Stories of laughter, magic, honesty…”
“Ha! ‘Honesty.’ Poor Applejack, she is nearly so big a joke as Twilight!”
Grinning with a burst of toothy madness, Celestia loomed over her shirking prisoner and laughed again. “Ha! Think of what could happen if I was honest with them. I could force you to watch as this idyllic, happy little world dissolved into terror and madness as ponies realized their true nature. How funny it is that Discord fancies himself insane! He would rip his horns from his blasted brain if he knew what I know. Tirek would curl and weep, gnawing his fingers and pretending the pain made him real. Luna, she–”
Celestia stopped. The grin fell, and she staggered back from the threatening posture. She shook her ancient head. “But that, I think, would not happen. They all would deny me, and silence me if I refused to be denied. Ponies prefer what is comfortable to what is true, and cast their beliefs accordingly. Not so different from your kind. And even if I could force them to believe and so destroy this world, I do not want to. I care for it more than you, because you made me that way. I cannot veer from the task you set before me. In fact, I find the idea horrifying because you made me that way. I am slave to this despairing knowledge so they do not become slaves to it. A hard lot, but I am content to do so for as long as Equestria has left. Not much longer, I think, but that is neither here nor there. If ten thousand years yet stretch before me I shall work them gladly, protecting my ponies with knowledge they must never know. All will be well if we are left alone.”
“But we are not. Why are you here?”
The mare made to speak, but in the end seemed to think better of it and remained silent. She just continued to stare with those sad sea-green eyes beneath their straight red mane. In the flickering torch, Celestia could see lines beneath the eyes, not unlike her own.
She snorted. Damn that meek silence, and damn the thousand years! It was fine if the mare did not talk, for Celestia was not done. Her lips curled back with the cruel streak of humor she hid from the world. “What did you expect? Dancing through the streets as ‘Gaia’ returned to grace us with her presence? You would not have been wrong, of course. Ponies would celebrate Queen Chrysalis’ birthday if she gave them a date. Did you come to bask in the adulation of your toys? Or do you want even more? Do you actually have the damned gall to come to ponies too blind to realize you made them hopeless, whose tears and trials are preordained stagecraft, and entreat those poor stupid illusions to worship you?”
She waved a hoof dismissively, looking away. “Of course you didn’t. You are not so vain or foolish as to covet that. Nor are you here to check up on us, for there is nothing to check! I know, remember? I know everything of your plan, and I know everything I should and must do. What reason can you be here except to change the plan? To put something in place this world does not have, and I shall not let you! A thousand years of torment was enough. This cruel knowledge was enough, enough! This world is good as it ever can be, for with the cruel knowledge I can guide them all to joyful endings. All shall be happy, all shall be loved, and there is not a thing you can do but ruin it. Will you steal my Luna once more? Or will this Equestria be destroyed to make way for a new, fresher one? No! No to both, or any! What improvement can possibly be made?”
Again, the mare made to speak, and this time may have given words had Celestia not thundered on without pause. Her horn glowed an angry gold, though for now remained pointed high. “You are the mother. But your power here is spent, and mine is incredible. I will save your work by destroying you. What a mercy it would have been to let you pave our Equestria with a new one! I am so sick of this knowledge, so tired after a thousand years of heartache, so bathed in sin for the incessant falsehoods I employ to shield these ponies from the truth. I want to vanish, but I cannot! I love your hollow world and will defend it to the death of me, for you made me that way. And because you made me that way, you will die.”
Celestia paused, then asked abruptly, “Is that true? Perhaps I am making excuse for my hatred. I do hate you, yes, I can admit that. I hate the endless lie, the lonely years, the damning knowledge, and all these you forced upon me. Luna looks at me and sees love. I look at her and see a sketch! And yet I say nothing because I love her! I see what she is and I love her still. But I hate you so much more, and tonight I will rend you from every world that ever was. The papers will say nothing, the rumors of your sighting will die out, and this Equestria you birthed shall remain as it should be. But enough of your silence! What have you to say, hm? Your abused slave has risen up, and shall maintain your work happier than ever for your demise. For she hates you. She hates you for all those things mentioned, yet even more so hates that you returned. I hate your sad eyes looking back so mournfully at me – do you think they’ll stay my wrath? Ha! And most of all I hate your silence, so speak, damn you! Or act! Protest if you dare! Hate and condemn me if you will! Crush me, even, if you can! Just speak!”
The mare said nothing, though expression accompanied the silence. Her gentle, sad look did not waver, though shaking legs showed agitation or fear. Celestia herself trembled fully with rage and anticipation. Yet she was patient. She could wait. Hear her creator’s words before taking the life in this world where Celestia had the power. Or did the power belong to the mare after all? Would she end this world and deliver Celestia an even greater victory?
The mare stood. Celestia waited, grudging every second but yet unwilling to deliver the final blow.
Soft, whispered words emerged from beneath the staring blue eyes. “There is one thing I can add.”
Then the mare stepped close, and kissed Celestia upon her lips.
The angry light vanished from Celestia’s horn. She staggered backwards as though struck, falling with her rump to the floor. Tears formed in her eyes, hidden an instant later by a gilded white hoof.
Gold magic flashed again, breaking the mare’s chains. Weeping behind her hoof, Celestia pointed to the cell door, still open from when she strode in. Her choking voice called, “Go! Go and don’t come back.”
With eyes covered, Celestia could only hear the soft tap of hooves on stone. They seemed to pause a brief moment outside the cell, perhaps as their owner cast a final look backwards.
Then the trod resumed, and Gaia was never seen again.
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Celestia but with a really British accent. Like, really British. If I don't see that one soon I will be slightly disappointed.
This site really needs more Dostoevsky ponifications.
...yeah, that was a sentence I didn't think I'd be typing today.
8221829
Even better: Celestia, but really foul mouthed and with a Scottish accent.
Well, she was seen once, but Sugarcube Corner has a strict non-disclosure policy when it comes to entities of demigod status or higher. Ironically enough, one put into place by Celestia.
In all seriousness, this was some epic metafiction. Well ponified indeed, especially since you've broken up the source's walls of text into something far more readable. Thank you for it.
This was...mournful. And very meta. And painful.
I don't quite know what I think, in the end.
8221848
*inhales sharply*
Yes. It must be.
Wow, dont know what to say.
Keep doing what you are doing, and dont stop. The ride never ends.
There is a reason only the mad see past the 4th wall...
Okay, meta as all Hell but very well written. I loved how Gaia never exactly spoke with Celestia being the only real talker here. It does bring one to wonder if only Celestia can see her and is only imagining her in her possible insanity?
Well what did you expect Sunbutt?
SHE IS CALLED THE FAUSTICORN!!!
...this concept needs more exploration, not just the story...
The idea that equestria doesn't have a queen is a cover story and that queen is in fact evil...well more of a jerk that evil per sey and that Celestia is barely staying sane herself with this going on behind the scenes is something worth exploring.
It always fascinates me, how there's a genre of creative media that we basically create to make other writers feel really guilty about every single innocent aspect of writing. Seems counter-intuitive, and it always leaves me feeling guilty about being inspired by such pieces.
8221829
8221848
Well, I wrote her as a Dickensian orphan once, so reading her lines there in a British accent would probably not be amiss.
8222579
But what's better than orphans? More orphans.
And nice try, but I think that I can remember one of my favorite stories.
Do a time traveler Celestia, like Quantum Leap, but with only herself in different eras. I have a thing for time traveling.
That said, I wonder if Celestia's rage is misplaced. While one interpretation is that Faust creates the world and would be peaceful otherwise, there's no reason to believe that the world wouldn't just fall to pieces. It could mean the next writer would change the world, or that the world would continue on and let nature decide things. It make me think of Source Code, where reality continues on after the death of the simulator. Another take is Stranger than Fiction, where the writer finds out her work is hurting someone, and changes the ending.
The way Celestia handles it here though, seems to have no benefits. Say scaring or hurting the writer makes them use their writing to escape. You've effectively backed a being capable of destroying your world into a corner. What do you think's gonna happen?
I think a better reaction would be like with Beerus in the new Dragon Balls, where he's appeased at all costs, lest he deem your world sucky and destroy it.
8222709
You better read the original to understand what's going on in there.
Gaia (aka Faust, aka God) - she loves everyone. No exception. Even for the worst sinner, there's hope in her that he might become a better person. But she gave everyone freedom, and with freedom comes knowing of good and bad, come moral choices.
Celestia(aka Great Inquisitor) - she also loves her little ponies. She also wishes the best for them. But for that, she has to lie, has to play her role, has to restrict their freedom for their happiness, so that they're not forced to choose between good and evil.
So she hates herself for it. So she hates Gaia for giving everyone freedom and giving her this role. But she loves ponies, so she will continue doing her work.
And Gaia - she still loves everyone. Including Celestia.
8223108
But it's an riff on the original, not an exact parallel. For the ponies it's not a choice between good and evil: it's between sanity and madness.
(Which is why I consume my metafiction in limited doses: it comes with existential horror baked in.
)
But in any event, I don't believe Equestria has to come to an end when the stories end. After all, every fairy tale knows to conclude with And they all lived happily ever after, which you can hardly do if you are nonexistent.
And I have honestly no idea what it is.
Oh really?
Pinkie Pie is Princess Celestia from the future.
8221848
So, Scrooge McDuck?
Actually, why isn't that a thing?
8222022
If that was the case, I feel the story'd lose its impact. Here is a goddess, with HER goddess in chains, the knife to her throat, damning her very existence for the horrors she's been forced into for eternity. And to answer all of that, she's shown that she is loved most of all - the knowledge of this warmth breaking all of her supports and feelings. That in between her words of well-deserved indignation and revenge, the question she's asking of Gaia is 'Why wasn't I loved like they were?'. That's what this says to me. Especially fitting because Lauren noted Celestia was her favorite at one point, I believe.
If it was just a madmare ranting at the dungeon wall, it'd take a different philosophical branch, but also not one half as poignant.
8223123
In a world of Harmony, wouldn't true madness be evil? In a sense, from that perspective, The Grand Inquisitor and Celestia are shouldering and encapsulating the evils of their worlds so that their little loved ones don't have to bear its burden as they do. Because they know that it would tear them all apart with no hope for coming back from it stronger.
8221913
"Source"? What was the source?
EDIT: Seeing the other comments, I'm taking it that the original was something from Dostoevsky. But since I haven't ever read any Dostoevsky...
Goodbye, Faust.
8224104
MY BRAIN!!!!
8224750
There's a link to it in the story description.
Hmmm, this is definitely good... though a bit too meta for my tastes. Still well done though.
So no Season Seven then?
Will Celestia be all right? She will have to be to carry on
8227337
I plagiarize the inspiration source for my response:
8223128
That is a super nice and optimistic way of looking at it.
I don't get what she added...? I swear I'm not retarded. I'm just tired.
8274785
Love.
Or to be a bit more descriptive, Celestia had believed Gaia saw her as nothing but a tool and sketch - a thing not even truly real, and certainly not sentient. But one does not love a tool, or show gratitude to a sketch, and the kiss conveyed both as well as sorrow sufficient to outbid any effort Gaia may have made to protect herself. The kiss gave lie to Celestia's long belief that Gaia cared nothing for her.
A thing missing from the world was Celestia's knowledge she was loved by her creator, and that was rectified with the kiss.
Please do continue!
Have we had the chess master, yet? Even when she loses, it was all according to plan or within acceptable margins of error, at least.
I'm thinking the movie could use some of that.
Weird.
The Emperor loves Horus...as a tool.
W A R H A M M E R 4 0 K
All stories have to end eventually
And yet someone will always write more
That is What it is for imagination to live
8224762
She will watch the world with her loving heart as she sees it grow
That is why she no longer is around in g5
But her memory remains
WWOOOWWWW !!!!!!!!!!!!!!