The Sun Wants To Help

by Thistle Gravity

Conversation 1 Pt 1

The clouds cast gentle purple twinkling shadows this morning, the sky beyond resembling a cut-open peach with deep reds, oranges and yellows.

As the sun rose, its light hit every cloud, rimming them with pink and golden light; a phenomenon easing upwards as time went until it seemed the massive cumulus clouds had captured the deep, fruit-flesh hues; leaving the farthest, highest clouds to spark white with the brimming day. White birds - pigeons, doves? Flew past my window. I saw glimpses of her today too, only a few gleaming wingbeats, disappearing into the artistry.

Standing there on the hotel balcony, I was at once frozen, yet feeling I was melting away from everything I had ever known.

- Diary Entry 2

---

“Princ-?”

Celestia looked up from where she had been laying on the grass to see a guard and her assistant escorting a familiar brown mare across the campus grounds.

It was the second day of ‘trying something new’. Today, the princess had decided to give an impromptu lecture to one of her graduate students, who had asked her an interesting question about her regalia. One thing led to another, and Moondancer was now taking notes on Celestia’s horseshoes, while their owner enjoyed the rare feeling of bare hooves in the crunchy, browning grass.

As the trio came closer, Celestia could make out the sounds of sniffling. Her assistant appeared peeved, and the guard, worried. She arose, ears pricking on alert.

I must believe in Harmony.

“Uh, Princess? You can have your shoes back. I’m going to go,” Moondancer said softly, before trotting off.

Celestia spared Moondancer a glancing, reassuring look; before her expression darkened with seriousness, addressing Raven. “What happened?”

“Princess, Miss Bee had been under the assumption that Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns was in another wing of the castle,” Raven answered, appearing a mixture of flustered and cross.

The mare in question whimpered, nothing except the hood of her cloak showing.

The guard pat Bee’s shoulder. “She, ah, wound up in the barracks and got lost," He explained. "One of the drill officers mistook her for a recruit and frightened her. She started crying and giving us the story, so I stepped in to show her to you. She’s a new student, I’m guessing?”

The guard broke away from his question to whisper something in Bee’s ear. Celestia caught the words, ‘It’s okay, nopony’s mad.’

Look at what you neglected now, Tia.

“Miss Bee is lucky she didn’t end up elsewhere. Such as the dungeons, or the catacombs," Raven added, scowling at her princess. “Make sure to take care of her.”

“I-I’m so sorry, this was my fault,” The hood between them mumbled. “L-look, I’ll um. I can just go. I’m not important.”

Raven scowled harder at Celestia to do something, as the guard continued his attempts to console Bee.

Celestia bowed her head in a courtly nod. “Thank you, Raven. You are dismissed.”

The alicorn embraced the brown mare and the guard in the shadows of her unfurling, massive wings, nudging the two of them in the direction of her office.

There was no time to waste if she wanted to repair this.

Bee bumped into her side with a squeak, before a golden aura gently turned her around and pulled down her hood. She cringed as the magic manipulated her, but followed along, sticking close to Celestia's shoulder.

Unable to afford the time to ask, looked to the guard flanking the alicorn's other side.

“You are Thundercloud, aren’t you?” Celestia asked. “You have a little sister.”

“Little sister, and little brother,” Thundercloud corrected, seeming impressed. “You remembered my voice even though I’m disguised in this armor?”

“You also help foals at the daycare,” Celestia smiled. “And you are always wanting to help the staff. You are very kind and memorable, and I thank you for helping Miss Bee find her way today. If you are available, I would like you to watch the door while I help Bee with what happened.”

“I would love to,” Thundercloud grinned. “Just make sure to tell my commanding officer or she’ll write me up. It’s Rumble Quartz.”

“I know her,” Celestia hummed. “Rumble had the promotion recently, didn’t she? I know Tumble Tuft is also in the guard, leading a different unit.”

“Yeah, they’re related," Thundercloud said. "That’s all I know. I can never remember if they are sisters or cousins, but they are both good ponies. Rumble really deserved that promotion. She worked hard for it, even if she kicks my flank now.”

Conversation went on like this while the trio traveled through corridors, maneuvered around students, and ascended stairwells.

Celestia sent a smile Bee’s way to include her, but the brown mare’s puffy eyes darted away, disappearing as she tugged her hood down again.

She is so much like a foal, Celestia noted at one point. So fragile and scared.

How do you know she isn’t already broken?

Celestia tossed her head, masking her irritation with a careful frown.

“.... So now there is a debate between different guards on whether or not yoga can assist in defensive-combat training drills.”

“I recall some of that is because of hospitalizations,” Celestia said distractedly. Realizing where they were, she gestured, looking from Thunder to her office. “We’re here now.” She withdrew a key from her mane and unlocked the door.

“Thundercloud, I thank you for your companionship. Please look out for us. Bee, come in and mind the mess.”

“Yes, Princess.”

“Ah...Are you-” Bee’s complaint was cut off by Celestia’s insistence.

“Come in, please.”

---

Cleaning the office had revealed rich, mahogany floors and starry magenta carpets. With the dust cleared from the room and papers reorganized, Celestia thought that the room now looked better than it had in ages.

Bookshelves and tapestries lined the walls, while low tables and warm, velvet cushions were positioned strategically to be both inviting and unlikely to be tripped over. A classic, but simple ovular office desk took up the back left corner of the room, the line of modern filing cabinets behind it somehow not spoiling the antiquated, academic calm. A stone fireplace in the middle wall to the right promised relief from the cold, while small alcoves glowed with magelight at Celestia’s presence.

Presently, Celestia and Bee had taken a seat at one of these low tables. A golden platter had been conjured, atop it a teapot of steaming chamomile tea. Accompanying were small pots of sugar and cream, along with a plate of double-chocolate fudge cookies.

As Bee feasted on the cookies, the worried creases in her face faded over the minutes into pensiveness, the uncomfortable event now a distant memory. She held her cup in her hooves, blowing on it every now and then in silence.

“I just want you to know that this is a safe place,” Celestia said at last. “It was my fault for not giving you directions, Bee. I am not judging you.”

“You should judge me,” The brown mare whispered. “I was stupid.”

“Everypony makes mistakes,” Celestia assured her. “Even I find myself getting lost from time to time.”

Liar.

Bee sullenly nodded, without looking up. “Everything I do is a mistake.”

“Now, that isn’t true.”

“How do you know?”

“Because,” Celestia said, pausing to sip from her own mug. “I know that from personal experience, that our mistakes lead to our greatest victories. We learn from the things we do wrong. It may feel awful at first, but then you realize you know more from trying and failing, than if everything went perfectly the first time.”

“I don’t… I don’t understand,” Bee frowned.

“Well, consider this, my pupil,” Celestia smiled. “You now know where the barracks are, as well as my school. Now you can go to both.”

The mare scrunched her face in confusion and disgust.

“You also know,” Celestia went on, “That Raven -my assistant- is worried about you.”

“That was worry?”

Celestia stifled a laugh with her hoof. “Quite. She is a severe, and tired-looking mare; but Raven Inkwell has a heart of gold for as long as I’ve known her.”

Silence, as Bee thought this over. Then little slurps as she finally drank her tea.

“And you also have a friend,” Celestia added. “I should think that if you ever need help, you know now that Thundercloud will be there.”

Bee’s ears wilted, and she looked into her cup. “I thought friendship was supposed to feel magical. Like, a sparkly magnetism.”

“It can.” Celestia said, “But not always. Bee, you’ve just met Thundercloud. It takes time for a bond to develop.”

“He probably just pities me,” Bee sighed. “I’m a grown mare, and I was crying like a foal.”

“Do you think crying means anything?” Celestia asked.

“Of course it does,” Bee scowled. “Crying is a way foals tell their parents they need help. Adults use their words. Adults have self control.”

“So if I were to cry, would you tell me to have self control? To my face?” Celestia asked.

“Sure.”

“Without knowing anything else about why I was crying...You would tell me to stop?”

“I…” The brown mare made a face. “I guess I wouldn’t. You’re Princess Celestia. If you are crying, something serious must have happened.”

Celestia smiled. “What if you were me, would you tell yourself you were a foal?”

“I don’t know,” Bee said. “I mean - maybe. Ponies would panic if you cried, Princess. I’d at least try to do it in private.”

“But what if you couldn’t?”

“Then…” Bee trailed off, frowning. “Then I would have to accept I was crying in public, and that I had a reason for it.”

“Good,” Celestia nodded.

Bee glared. “Princess, I’m not you. I’m not important.”

“Oh, Bee,” Celestia sighed. “You are very important.”

The mare flinched. “See, you’re disappointed in me now.”

Celestia shook her head, closing her eyes. “No, no I’m not.”

“You are!”

The shriek took Celestia by surprise, and she saw that Bee was trembling in her seat.

She’s terrified, Celestia realized, a chill rising. But not because of me.

“Bee?” Celestia ventured softly. “Has this happened before?”

The mare looked at her hooves, and the teacup within them. Unable to hold it steady, it rattled in her grip, remnants of tea sloshing out onto her cloak. She set it down quickly, as if she had been burnt. Rather than look at Celestia, her eyes stared at the messy cup, sitting stiffly, hooves between her haunches, her breathing ragged and wet.

“Bee?” The mare looked about to cry, eyes still puffy and raw from earlier.

How many tears could she possibly have left?

Bee swallowed thickly, audibly.

“Everypony,” She whispered. “I do something wrong; say something not right. There are looks they give me. Their posture changes, Celestia, and it stays that way. Ponies sigh, or roll their eyes. They make gestures, these minuscule things, and I know they are sick and tired of me. I knew I would disappoint you, too.”

“Bee…” What could the alicorn say?

“I didn’t mean to make you think of them,” Celestia whispered, reaching a hoof across the table. “I am not tired of you, not in any way.”

You liar.

“But I will admit,” Celestia added, words pained by a slow exhale, her head throbbing, “This is new for me. I have never had a mare quite like you in my care, and I am… afraid... I will do something wrong. I breath - and sigh- to collect my thoughts. To figure out what I must do, how I might help.”

“And right now,” The alicorn said, “I want you to know that I understand.”

Bee looked up.

“I do not know why your family judges you," Celestia went on. "I would hope it is because they are afraid - not of you, but what they aren’t able to help you with. But I want you to know their reactions are wrong, and I do not intend to emulate them.”

“Now. While you are here in Canterlot I would like you to think of yourself as a princess,” Celestia said. “As well as my student. I will be giving you homework. Every day, I would like you to come and talk to me.”

“I… Okay?” The brown mare frowned.

“And I may take you along to meet ponies. Is that all right?”

Bee nodded.

Celestia smiled. “Good.”

---

Her new ‘student’ had been ushered out soon after, their first session together coming to a close on an officially good mark. It was, Celestia reflected, a hopeful ending. She had gotten much from Bee to think about.

Strange that she had locked the door, right when she had found herself alone.

“I need some time to prepare paperwork for a class tomorrow. Please escort Miss Bee back to her hotel.”

Celestia had sat down, as she always had. That had been thirty minutes ago, according to her internal clock. Her pen was still suspended in her magic, hovering uselessly over the papers she needed to grade.

Something wasn’t working right inside Celestia. For some reason, her heart was clasped in fear.

You lie and you lie, old mare. You are tired of Bee as well as everything else.

Celestia’s headache continued at a steady throb, despite what she had taken for it. She felt so tired - it was one of those moments where she could feel the weight of her own, giant body, weighed down by the gravity of the earth. As her thoughts hovered, detached; her perceptions of herself were soaked with the edges of an epiphany she was always forgetting.

No. She knew better.

How many revolutions of the sun has it been? How many cycles of the seasons have I been here?

Ponies, Celestia thought. They never learn that hurting one another creates more harm than good. For as much as I embrace and teach harmony to my little ponies, I cannot erase the fact that there will always be violence in the world. Whether that be physical, emotional, or spiritual...They will always find ways to justify it. Even against a child.

You let them, with your leniency.

Bee’s troubles had not begun recently. Her pain went far too deep, too deep to be mended with simple assurances.

Although Celestia was unable to see into the mare’s possibilities, as informed by her past -nor did she possess Cadance’s gift of scrying hearts- the princess knew that the sort of reactions Bee had shown today meant that she had few ties to the world, if this was how she acted.

I don’t even know if it is abuse, Celestia realized. Or if her parents simply do not understand. How will this month end, with that in mind? How can I ever hope to give her closure, when I am frightened as much as I am?

I cannot do this alone, Celestia sighed. It isn’t just the ‘newness’ of Bee’s circumstance. There is something more, something I’m not equipped to deal with here. I am merely a half-useless creature of fate.

Her eyes stared off into the middle distance, unfocusing, a thought hitting her.

Harmony, Celestia breathed. Bee has come to me, because she has chosen me to be her executioner.

Author's Note:

Critiques and opinions wanted.

Here we go.

Comments

[jrock117]

How has there been no comments for this? I guess I'll be the first then.

I absolutely love the pacing of this story, first off. It allows the reader to digest information at the same speed the characters are.

Secondly, the way Celestia doubts herself in this, not only through her internal critic, but through her own words and thoughts, feels very believable. As someone who has those thoughts almost constantly when I'm at work or alone at home, it's pretty accurate.

I really can't wait for the next chapter when it comes out!

[Foxfax]

Second comment here, seconding the first. Celestia genuinely wondering if she's doing right by disliking Bee's parents, hoping she's doing right by Bee, fee!s real. The slow build feels natural. I like!