Chapter 4- Duet
“I hate you!”
The shout stiffens her and her wings flare out against her throne. For the first time, in a long while, Celestia is thrown off guard. Hate her? How could Sunset hate her?
Celestia thinks on the argument, trying to find the turn. Had her tone been sharper than usual? But Sunset was breaking court decorum... again. She’d already decided to scold the temperamental unicorn later for it. Still, this had begun like their usual skirmishes, why had it heated up into… this… whatever this was.
Sunset watches her, there is the glint of tears in her eyes but a kind of resolve as well.
Celestia glances to the rest of the throne room, several of the chattering nobles had fallen silent as well as the guards. They are all watching, each pony a thousand expectations. The argument is now moot, as is whatever point Sunset wanted to make by coming here. There is really only one response Celestia can make.
“Sunset Shimmer! How dare you speak to me so! Remove yourself from court and head to your quar—”
Before she can finish, Sunset is turning and galloping towards the double doors. Celestia doesn’t pretend that it’s an eagerness to follow her order. A detail that seemed minor before blares at her now: Sunset is wearing saddlebags.
A coldness takes Celestia as a specter from memory comes to taunt her. Hadn’t Luna worn this same defiant, hardness Sunset just shown?
“Wait, Sunset… stop!” Celestia cries out.
It’s too familiar. Too much like before. She feels the dread that she's made the same terrible mistake.
Her throne room guards react quickly to the change in orders. Their spears cross in Sunset’s path, but both of them are flung aside by Sunset’s blast of magic. She works to open the doors.
Celestia lights her horn, teleporting herself from her throne into the doorway itself.
Sunset looks up at her with a strange smile. Before Celestia can speak, Sunset’s held back spell fires, and she vanishes in a teleport of her own. The doorway had been a feint!
Cursing every second wasted, Celestia expands her senses and finds Sunset’s magical trail two floors down. She teleports herself again.
Sunset blindsides her with a bolt as soon as she appears.
Celestia reflexively puts up her shield, and the teal magic shatters against the golden radiance surrounding her. Something quirky happens, the spell bursts and fills the hallway with a sparkling haze.
She recognizes the spell then: a scattering field to dampen magic. She taught it herself to Sunset, and a part of her is impressed. It was always a wonder if Sunset took their lessons or Nightmare Moon’s impending arrival seriously.
Another part of Celestia is furious. The spell is the magical equivalent of being slapped in the face. Sunset attacking her? Here in her palace? The castle staff had given her many reports before this of how unruly Sunset had become. Had Celestia been too lenient? Her control starts to slip and worry turns to anger.
Sunset continues to rush down the hallway, knowing that they both can’t teleport or use magic. Celestia empowers her voice instead, bellowing out. “SUNSET SHIMMER, HALT!”
Down the hall, Sunset stumbles and looks over her shoulder. Her eyes wide with fear.
The Royal Guards have caught up with them now, but Celestia barely pays them a thought as she kicks off the rug and spreads her wings. The force of her wingbeats blowing the soldiers back as she rockets down the hallway.
Sunset yelps at the sight of her descending and the unicorn scrambles the rest of the way down the hall, diving into a room and shutting the door.
Celestia lands a moment later, skidding on the carpet as she comes up against the closed door. She thumps it with a forehoof. “Sunset! Open this door this instant!”
Yelling at Sunset through a closed door isn’t a new experience, but Celestia doesn’t find space to laugh. This feels serious. More than just some petty theft or acting out. She tries the door again and feels it bump into something pushed in front of it.
Worry returns to Celestia, she still can’t use magic in the hall and waiting for the spell to fade would be an eternity. She decides that she will wait no longer. She spins in place, braces her forehooves and gives the ornate and heavy door a powerful double-buck with her hinds.
Wood splinters underneath her kick and one of her hoofshoes gets dented from the impact. The door itself is sent off its hinges and breaks whatever was behind it.
Celestia climbs over the wreckage and feels her magic return. A moment later she’s flaring her horn and brightening the room in golden light. She recognizes this place. It’s a magical storeroom and standing at the far end is the mirror.
The Mirror. She’d shown it to Sunset not too long ago, explained it as one of Starswirl’s devices. Something that could show timelines or even lead to other worlds. Since his vanishing she kept it tucked away as a historical curio.
Celestia stares at it, the mirror was not just a mirror now. The surface of it glowed and rippled. An active portal! She darts a glance around. A vain hope has her sweep the room, wishing this was yet another feint. She senses no lingering trace of a teleport, no invisibility spells.
No Sunset.
Shaking her head, she charges forward through the mirror before she can lose her nerve.
On the other side, concrete rushes at her and she puts her hooves up to stop her fall. Pain comes to her instead as she scrapes tender, fleshy limbs on rough ground. She raises her hooves, but they are not hooves, and she holds back a scream.
Instead, Celestia cries out, “Sunset! Where are you?!” Silence answers her, and she looks about, crawling on the ground as she frantically tries to find anything familiar.
She’s out in the open. It’s nighttime. Bushes nearby and a pedestal with a statue of a Saddle Arabian on it. More worry comes to her, what if the mirror was unpredictable? What if it’d thrown her into someplace else?
Until she does sees something familiar laying on the ground. It looks different, a backpack instead of a saddlebag, but the red and gold cutie mark is unmistakable.
Celestia isn’t sure to be cheered or feel despair at the sight of it. It most certainly means Sunset is here and nearby. “Sunset!” She cries out again, voice echoing off the nearby dark building.
With an effort she gets to her feet, wobbling. There is little time to worry about her transformed self, she’s seen enough two-leggers. What hangs in her mind is the feeling that she’ll never find Sunset in the middle of the night on some alien world. She calls out Sunset’s name again. So dark, too damned dark!
Closing her eyes, she focuses her thoughts on the sun. If this world has a Celestia, she will just have to deal with an interrupted schedule. This is an emergency, and there is no time for—
The sun doesn’t come.
Celestia’s breath catches in her throat. Immediately she reaches up with a fist and conks her forehead with it. The self-inflicted bruise is minor compared to the startling fact that she is missing her horn. How will she focus her magic?
She stares at her hands next and tries to will magical force into a fingertip. The effort is like trying to push air through a tiny straw. Her finger glows, but so feebly she can’t use it as a light, much less move the sun. Her magic was there but bound up within her.
Panic falls upon her as one thought chains to another. No horn, no magic. No magic, no ability to control the portal. The prospect of being trapped has her leaning against the statue for support. What will happen to Equestria without her? There was likely a crisis in the palace already. What if she never returned? If Cadance or unicorns figure out how to move the sun in her absence, it would still mean nothing when Nightmare Moon breaks free. Equestria would be without its guardian princess and fall into eternal darkness.
“Sunset! You won’t be able to come back!” She is actually screaming now, her voice made shrill as she frantically slaps at the side of the statue. Was she too late? Had it shut behind her? When she finds the spot where her hand slips through, she gasps with relief.
A relief that becomes short-lived as she stands at the periphery of two worlds and of two decisions.
“Sunset! Please—” Celestia’s throat is raw from her shouting. It turns the rest of her sentence into a hoarse whisper. “I-I can’t stay… I am sorry.” When several more minutes of anguish silence hangs in the air, she turns away.
In the days that follow, Celestia finds Starswirl’s notes in Sunset’s room and the research regarding the mirror. Sunset had discovered the method of opening the portal and directing the mirror, but little else.
When Celestia hunts down the rest of the texts in the restricted library she discovers the caveat: Once activated the portal cycles every thirty moons. But that was in Equestrian time, and there was no telling what the flow on the other side of the mirror would be. Two years here could mean two hundred there.
It was a problem Starswirl had solved in his later writing. One had to bring a magical anchor paired with another in Equestria, and it would turn the portal into a bridge. Fate in all it’s a bitter irony makes it that by the time Celestia finds this information the portal had already closed. Sunset was lost to her, perhaps forever—
Sunset, in the present, finally broke their contact. In real time the hand touch had lasted less than a minute, but the whirlwind of thought and memories had spanned mental days. She backpedaled a few steps away from Celestia feeling disoriented and fell to her knees.
She remembered that night in the throne room, and she remembered their argument. She had made it more than once. Ever since Celestia had confided in her the return of Nightmare Moon and of the Elements. Sunset argued that if Celestia planned for her destiny to be a soldier in some titanic conflict, then it only fitted that she be made an alicorn herself.
It was a desire that only magnified when Cadance had ascended, and then the glimpse into the mirror that showed Sunset clearly with wings and crown. Her whole life was a pursuit of power. She deserved to be recognized for it. That mirror was tantalizing proof.
Yet every answer from Celestia was enigmatic and vague: ‘You aren’t ready, Sunset’ , ‘You don’t understand, Sunset’ or ‘Be worthy of a princess title before asking for one.’
Eventually, Sunset hatched a scheme to go through the mirror, to that future she had seen. She’d managed to activate the mirror but spent days agonizing over the decision. Confronting Celestia one last time had given her the nerve to go through with her plan.
On Earth, she’d crawled on hands and knees into the hedges, disoriented and unsure what had happened or gone wrong. When Celestia started calling after her, she’d kept herself hidden. She'd taken Celestia's screams of being unable to return as threats, not warnings. At the very last she’d held her fists over her ears and never heard the final words.
Later on, when her hand had touched the solid stone of the statue, she’d thought herself exiled.
“Y-You… didn’t want to leave me behind.” Even as Sunset spoke, the understanding was slow to catch up. “You didn’t banish me.” Her breath sped, and she started to sob. It really was all her fault. So much hate and bitterness she’d carried throughout the years, so much of it from a stupid misunderstanding.
“Sunset… you saw that memory?”
“I didn’t mean to, it just happened. I didn’t mean any of it… any of it to happen...” Sunset hugged her knees to her chest and trembled, losing her words.
Celestia joined Sunset in her kneeling and drew her close with a wrap of wings. With her hands, she reached for Sunset’s and held one hand in two. “Do it again.”
Sunset shook her head. She didn’t want any more reminders. She knew enough. She was a terrible pony.
“Please,” Celestia insisted. “You must know my own mistakes, not just yours. Please, Sunset? For me?”
Sunset swallowed and closed her eyes. With them both ponified, the harmony magic came easy, and soon she was diving into the memories once again. This time Celestia nudged her mentally, steering the long reel of her life to one particular time.
Celestia sips from her tea as she sits at the table in her personal chambers. She hadn't planned for this to be a test, but her student was eager to show off her memory skills.
“Advoca aquam, Vocationem Flamma, Fulgur Vocatio and… Vocationem Terrae,” Sunset Shimmer recites then looks up to Celestia with bright eyes.
‘Such a little thing and so young too!’ Is Celestia’s thought. She could still remember when those turquoise eyes were solid foal colors.
“Outstanding, my very talented and resourceful student. Not many can handle that language so early,” Celestia says out loud.
“Why don’t we just say it in Ponish?” Sunset asks. “The magic still works, watch! Call Water!”
Sunset’s horn flashes and one of the glasses in Celestia’s tea set overfills with conjured water. “Oh… oops, s-sorry.”
The antics break Celestia’s stoic nature, and she laughs at that anxious look. “They say it by the old names because wizards are old and curmudgeonly and don’t like things that are different.” With a wink to Sunset, Celestia raises the glass filled with water and takes a sip of it. “Thank you for the water, I was just thinking that my tea was too sweet today.”
Cheerfulness crosses the Sunset’s muzzle, and she looks thoughtful. “Oh! I thought of another one. How about… Arcessete basia?”
Celestia nearly spit takes. Both at Sunset’s ‘spell’ and at seeing the young filly with her hooves perched on the table while her blank bottom waggles. The tail swishes make her look like a puppy eager for a treat.
“That one is powerful magic. You must always be careful with that one,” Celestia intones with as much seriousness as she can muster. “Why it even works on me! Ah! Here it comes!” She leans forward then and kisses Sunset’s nose. “Mmm, though I’d admit that you may have earned that one through cuteness.”
Sunset giggles, her eyes happy arches. “Thanks, Mom.”
Celestia feels her immortal heart skip a beat. The smile she has freezes on her muzzle.
A glance shows Sunset looking up at her shyly through her wavy red bangs.
‘No… not a puppy. Definitely a cat through and through.’ Celestia thinks darkly as she realizes this was no errant slip by her so very precocious student.
Sunset is watching her for her reaction. The seconds slip by, and anxiety creeps in. Sunset’s smile begins to wilt at the edges, and the little filly holds her breath.
Celestia draws her wing around Sunset and cuddles in a tight hug. She’s stalling, but she can’t take the sight of disappointment. Not now.
Thankfully Sunset doesn’t press the topic, taking Celestia’s hug for an answer, and they bid each other good night.
When she leaves, Celestia is left to walk a ring into her bedchamber’s rug, lost in thought. It wasn’t the first time a pony called her mother. In fact, ‘Equestria’s Mother' was one of her titles from the old days. She should have seen it coming, though. Sunset was an orphan. Of course the foal would latch on.
Not that Celestia had been discouraging it. Sunset was brilliant, and her abilities earned her more personal attention from Celestia than the rest of her students. The unicorn was also cute, cheerful and even her name tickled Celestia’s humor. A Sunset to Celestia’s Sunrise. Wasn’t that also one of her old titles? They could be Princess Sunrise and Princess Sunset. Wouldn’t that be fun?
Celestia shakes her head, frowning at how quick the tangent comes. She’d become sloppy these last few years. But who could have known that being a teacher could be so… dangerous? Motherhood had always been out of the question, but now...
The trouble with arguing with yourself is that you can shelf the argument. So Celestia does for the night, tired of wrestling with the idea.
She can’t escape it forever, and the problem comes to her again as she works through her daily routine. Even as she sits in court and listens to nobles and common folk. Somepony with a custody battle. Somenoble wanting to straighten out an inheritance. Someponyelse begging for a draft waiver for their injured son.
Did everypony have a problem with children today? She tells herself that it’s just her imagination. She repeats this mantra when she sees to the opening ceremony of yet another confectionery next to Canterlot’s elementary school.
Adoption wasn’t… unheard of. She’d adopted ponies into the royal family before. Like the Bluebloods who had forced her hoof with their little brat. She had a rule on adoption, however. Nopony could claim to be her daughter or son. Distant aunt at most. It worked to keep the silly aspirations of somepony being her 'heir' at bay.
Would Sunset be happy as her niece? Celestia didn’t think so. Not only that, Celestia herself didn’t know she could be satisfied with that either.
The day moves quickly, and Kibitz gives her plenty of tongue lashings to keep her on task. Chiding her endlessly over missed meetings, overlooked documents, and her distracted nature.
She almost bows to him at one point and then remembers she’s the Princess. She declares herself done with pomp and circumstance for the day and returns to her chambers to aim the sun toward evening hours.
Shaking off her obligations puts her in a rebellious mood. Oh, why the buck not? She makes the rules. She wants Sunset to be her daughter and to Tartarus with what anypony else thinks! With quill and the golden parchment that is her lawmaking stationary, she spends a few hours drafting declarations, energized at the thought.
The door knocks during the late hours. It’s Kibitz again. Celestia’s tempted to blast the old stallion. Honestly, who does he think he is!
Kibitz is crafty. His suggestions are never orders, and he knew just the right way to prod her into action. Like now, he politely wonders if she intends to keep the moon out of the night sky this evening and if he should write a new schedule for the sailors and astronomical societies.
Celestia politely thanks him for the reminder and dismisses him. She heads to the balcony and extends her magic. Raising the moon always brought her the unnerving act of having to face Luna. Or rather, Luna’s mark. The mare-in-the-moon ponies called it.
It strikes her then. She was the only pony alive who could remember when it wasn’t marked. When there were two princesses, not one. When she had an actual family. She misses Luna. She misses their Mother. She was all alone now, and part of it was her own fault.
When Celestia returns from the balcony, she approaches the desk with the declaration and only makes it halfway.
What was she doing?
She couldn’t make Sunset her daughter. The whole point of the Gifted Unicorn School was to find capable magic users to help her in her upcoming fight with Lu... Nightmare Moon. That ticking eventuality which seemed so far away a thousand years ago felt immediate with only ten short years left.
All her planning was falling to this. She’d tried to use the elements countless times before, but they had become inert stone in her hooves. Karma, she suspects, for having used them as a weapon on the other harmony bearer. Her visits to the Tree of Harmony every so often to see if they’ve re-grown still filled her with a kind of unease. As if she were personally shunned by whatever force grew there.
No, she needed allies. Not just allies, but strong, capable ones in the prime of their youth and trained by her to help her fight an alicorn. Sunset was horn and shoulders above any other candidate she had in the school. But Celestia knew that if something happened to Sunset, or if she hit a plateau, Celestia would have to find somepony new. She wouldn’t be able to spend these one on one sessions with everypony and Sunset would have to fall by the wayside.
Or the opposite could happen. Sunset could excel and be the perfect partner she needed in battle or even go as far as recover the elements. But if the time came to send her into mortal danger, could Celestia do it? Already she could feel a sprout of maternal instinct. She would rather sacrifice herself than let somepony she called her daughter face danger.
Celestia can’t even let Sunset find happiness with a foster family, because what if she bonds with them instead? Gives up being a student? Decides that she didn’t need Celestia anymore? Living as an orphan in the palace made it easy to plan her life and studies.
Sunset’s love was a pressure point, one more bond Celestia could use to make sure Sunset kept loyal to her.
The thought sickens her at how easy it comes to her considerations. Luna was right. Celestia was a cruel calculator of a pony, but these were the decisions a princess had to make.
She wanted to shout, to stomp her hooves, to yell.
But she couldn’t even do that. That would have the guards rushing in.
Tortured, she flings her crown off her head and crushes it in her magic. She watches as the golden metal crumples and the gemstone fractures before she blasts it into powder and shards of amethyst.
The pleasure from this petty act of destruction is short lived. Now she’ll have to make an appointment with the royal jewelers, come up with an explanation for Kibitz, find some temporary replacement to wear and… and...
How could Luna ever want this? This living Tartarus that was being Equestria’s princess? She wonders, not for the first time if she should have simply given the throne to Luna. Perhaps her sister would have pulled back from the brink then. Maybe even after the transformation she should have surrendered to Nightmare Moon… would there have been a chance to talk?
She doesn’t know how long she sits there, stewing in her despair.
Eventually, she relaxes. She picks up her anger. She picks up her sorrow. She picks up her regret. She places them all in a box and locks that box tight within herself. A princess isn’t allowed anger. She isn’t permitted sadness. She isn’t given to regret. These are things for other ponies. She is Celestia, she is Equestria’s only bulwark. Her ponies lived happy, sunlit, slave-free lives because of her.
They can find love. They can have families. They can have daughters.
But not her.
Perhaps her sister will be the one to slay her or some invader or some new unfathomable terror. She’ll take it as karma coming to collect its lengthy bill, but until then she must do as she must and not waver.
A fresh knock at the door startles her from her thoughts, and some annoyance gets away from her. “Kibitz, I seriously think you need to take a vacation. I am not—”
“Umm… it’s not Kibitz,” Sunset’s voice comes, hesitantly.
Celestia’s eyes widen, and after a breath to steady herself, she stands tall. “Come in, Sunset.”
Sunset enters, she has her saddlebags on with her textbooks and a hopeful smile on her face. Though she pauses, seeing Celestia without her crown. “Err. Is it a bad time?”
“Not at all. I will always have time for yo—” She hesitates for half a blink and changes the word. “—your education,” Celestia finishes. She puts on a false smile.
“Great! I’m glad to spend time with you too,” Sunset chirps and then adds with an impish smile of her own. “Mom.”
Celestia feels the word like a stab to the gut, so soon. It just had to be so soon. She can see by Sunset’s happy expression that the filly must have spent the whole day in anticipation for this opportunity. There won’t be any getting around it now.
“Sunset, please refer to me as Princess or Princess Celestia when we are in public. In private you may simply call me Celestia.” Celestia, with her centuries of practice, manages to keep her voice from breaking.
It takes a moment for Sunset to understand. But she does, bit by bit. She is, after all, such a clever filly. “Oh.” She stands a little straighter. “Do you want to go over the lesson today, princess?” Her tone was firm and proper.
The brightness was gone.
The mental magic withdrew, and once again it was years later on a rooftop in a different world.
Sunset’s disorientation was minor compared to what she saw in front of her now: Celestia’s cheeks ran with tears, her rainbow hair a frazzled mess and pony ears splayed out. Her eyes came to focus as Sunset watched and she knew that Celestia must have re-lived the experience with her.
Celestia let out a breath. “I am sorry, Sunset. For everything. For believing I thought I was doing good by keeping you apart from me. For being too much a coward and using duty as a shield. For worrying so much about what I thought needed to be done, than what I should have done. I was wrong about Luna. Wrong about how I treated her and wrong how I treated you. I… I am sorry.”
Sunset still held Celestia’s hand and could feel the tremble in it.
She’s afraid. The thought was oddly amusing. The princess that ruled over Equestria, afraid of her, a teenage girl.
Celestia sighed and started to draw her hand back, but Sunset caught her fingers in a squeeze.
“I guess we sorta had a duet after all, huh?” Sunset remarked.
Celestia blinked, confused by her humor. “Sunset… do… can you forgive me?”
Sunset’s eyes felt puffy and her cheeks stiff with dried tears. She still smiled through it. “Arcessete basia?”
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Vocationem laudem.
I think I need a proper translation, google translate comes up with "Call kisses"
Which while adorable is probably slightly off. Latin translators, I summon thee!
8847883
Well it is meant for her to 'call for / summon a kiss' but I'll happily take suggestions if any are better translations!
This is beautiful.
Well that was heart wrenching then sweet nice work
Not bad! I do feel a bit sad this story wrapped up so well and quick, on the other side, definitely has room for sequels!
The scene with princess Celestias thoughts before correcting Sunset with the while 'mom' thing was pretty well done! Best mix of smart and cute sunny.
Edit - liked the 'mom' scene so much it is now becoming part of my head canon!
8847883
Adsumus! (We come!)
If you're trying to say something like "(I) call water!" as a command, then you want something like "Advoca aquam!" Using the imperative to make it a command.
Or, for "(I) call (for) kisses!" you might try "Arcessete basia!" Though this implies summoning them to/for/upon oneself.
"Vocationem" would actually be the accusative noun for "calling/vocation"
Hope that helps!
Cicero Bless the Late Sir Pratchett for inspiring generations of kids to become snobby Latin geeks.
BRIANUS SCRIPSIT
ROMANES EUNT DOMUS
Of course, if they ever go up against Tolkien and his armies of Danish and Old English geeks, it'll be a curbstomp.
Wow... That was... so powerful that it even brought me to tears.
Well there go my feels.
Ya’ll got me feeling emotional wtf
Hasbro WISHES they were this good.
Heartwarming and tearjerking all at the same time. You do great work.
Fucking... ow.
8876398
Yeah no matter what cannon decides this will always be my cannon, Sunset wanting Celestia to be her mother driving her to the darkness with Cadence's adoption as the lit match to light the fuse.
Almost forget sometimes that Celestia suffered too
I've always portrayed Celestia as The Marble Princess.
That the recoil from using the Elements on Luna and the grief of the betrayal broke something inside her. That as the long years passed she... ossified. That essentially she became a Princess Robot. Wave to the ponies, raise the sun, weigh in and advise their petty squabbles and oversee their lawmaking but just be a fixture otherwise. That Sunset reminded her that she was a pony at all. That Celestia's constant pressuring for Twilight to make friends instead of filling her head with tactics and battlemagic was due to the fresh grief of Sunset.
Headcanon achieved. Ascend, author, to the ranks of those who have fleshed out Equestria and its inhabitants in my weird little headworld!
10402115
Prances around happily in the roomy headspace
Thank you for the sweet words! And liking my ideas
God damn I just realized how messed up this all is, most if not all of Sunset's problems can be traced back to that one day where Celestia made those decisions. Not only did she deny Sunset of even getting an adopted family, she also denied straight to Sunset's face, in the most brutal fashion, that she couldn't consider her Sunset's mom and just to call her Princess, thats brutal. No wonder Sunset had so many damn problems, Honestly, if this was the case and Sunset not only being an orphan, but just in general her whole life she didnt have a family, she should most likely have a lot more problems than just being power hungry. I would be surprised if she was even a happy person after the rainbow blast, if she was reformed she would probably still be broken Psychologically from the entirety of her developmental years.
On another happier note, I still love this headcanon and this story, absolutely lovely and one of my favorites :)
8847888
Yes its accurate, indeed :)
Ouch. My feelings. This was beautiful, in a punch-your-heart kind of way. (It’s okay. I didn’t need my heart anyway.)
I don't think she'll want to.
I can't believe even after sunset got all emotional over that flashback celestia still wants her to see more of it even though she's not mad surprisingly.
Wait what!
Damn. 😨
Guess that a yes.
i understand you celestia but also buck you - how dare you ruin poor sunnys happiness like 😭