3 - Base
After Gabion left Princess Celestia to her work, the rest of the day passed without incident. He surreptitiously checked on how she and Bush Hammer were doing, and everypony seemed much less downbeat than they had been in the morning. His tension began to slip away. No, perhaps this wouldn’t be as bad as he’d thought.
By the time dinner was being served, he’d almost forgotten about the events of the day until Bush Hammer pushed up next to him in the chow line. “Um, sir?” Bush Hammer whispered. But although his voice was low, his spirits were high. “Thank you so much for your assistance today. Celestia’s work has vastly improved and she’s much more accurate now.”
“Mmhmm. How far are we behind schedule now?”
“It’s- A day,” Bush Hammer admitted. “But I’m sure she’ll improve! It’s not that much worse than she was after the first day.”
It was kind of impressive, honestly, to be a day late after only two days of work. But given the rocky start, it could be worse. Gabion decided he’d wait a week, see then. “Very well.” He craned his neck, looking around the open space that was serving as a makeshift mess “hall”. He spotted a certain white horn over in the corner, where nopony else was sitting. “I’ll see how she feels about it.”
Once Gabion had his food, he beelined for that corner. There was a small ring around Princess Celestia’s table where nopony was sitting. Not seeing any reason why not, Gabion sat right across from her. She looked strange, nearly bow-legged from sitting on a seat much too small for her at a table much too low for her, dirt mottling her brilliant coat, her mane and tail still tied up. She was stirring her cheese-and-parsley soup, staring at it intently.
“Hello,” Gabion said. He slurped at his soup.
Princess Celestia looked up and nodded at him. “Hello,” she said. “Eat this fast; the vegetables settle quickly.”
“Mmhmm.” Slurp. “And how did you do after I left?” He believed Bush Hammer; he just wanted to hear how Princess Celestia judged herself.
After a pause, Princess Celestia said, “Acceptably.” She kept stirring.
“To you or to Bush Hammer?”
“Yes.” Her spoon didn’t clink; she wasn’t hitting the sides of the bowl. “I’m not sure how else to say it. I put the foundation stones into place exactly how you showed me, I cast the bonding spell on them, and…” She shrugged.
“Construction in a nutshell,” said Gabion. “A lot of days are uninteresting foundation-laying. But they’re as necessary as every other day.” Even more, really, but Princess Celestia didn’t a lecture on the importance of a proper foundation. He looked around. “Are you not sitting with them or are they not sitting with you?”
“The latter, I fear.” Princess Celestia slurped — slurped! — her soup. “How do you make small talk with an alicorn, particularly one who rules you?”
How, indeed? Gabion did his best to ignore the feeling as he downed another spoonful of soup, but sitting here with Princess Celestia, eating soup, talking about construction, was downright surreal. Alicorn. Rainbow mane and tail. Princess. Big. And he was giving her tips about stonelaying. And she was applying those tips. This was something that shouldn’t be happening.
Perhaps that was why Gabion couldn’t miss the slight strain in Princess Celestia’s voice. The loneliness. She did her best to make light of it, but the isolation was hurting her. He wasn’t in her world; she was in his. She needed some way to be eased in. Even if that way was talking about construction.
How, indeed? “Like this,” said Gabion. “What do you think of the soup?”
Princess Celestia blinked, then looked at her spoon. “…” she said. Then she added, “It’s a bit too salty, but otherwise, quite tasty.”
“Find the cooks and tell them,” said Gabion. “They’re open to suggestions.”
“And you think they’d take me seriously?” Princess Celestia asked. Her ears twitched. “They wouldn’t just think I’m an overly picky princess?”
“Not if you go looking like that. Princesses who’re overly picky don’t look like they’ve been rolling around in the dirt.” Slurp. “Or, if you want, I could tell them.” The soup was a bit salty.
“…No, I think I’ll do it myself,” said Princess Celestia. She picked a large parsley sprig from her soup and nibbled it down, starting from the end. Most undignified. Most relatable.
“Let me know if you need my help on construction again,” said Gabion. “I know how it is. I was a first-timer once, too.”
Princess Celestia smiled. Actually smiled. At him, personally. Gabion’s heart fluttered. “Thank you, even though I doubt I’ll need it. There aren’t many ways that moving blocks can be confusing.”
He almost left it there, but a stray thought ran through Gabion’s head. “Speaking of help, who’s running the country?”
“Luna can handle it,” said Princess Celestia. “It was part of the details that needed to be ironed out. And, yes, we have her own duties fully figured out.”
“Mmm. Let her know how much you appreciate that.”
“I already have.”
They slurped soup in silence. Gabion looked up briefly. Princess Celestia still looked a bit odd without her crown. Which got him thinking- “So how old is your crown?”
In spite of his best efforts, Gabion poked his head in on Princess Celestia and Bush Hammer three or four times that day. Which was odd, as none of those three or four times ever showed any problems that would require further visits. The blocks were fitting together nicely, construction was going on as quickly as could be expected, and everypony seemed to be getting along. Bush Hammer especially seemed especially easygoing, compared to two days ago. Gabion chalked that up to finally adjusting to having Princess Celestia as an underling.
The rest of Canterlot went on as scheduled. Although Gabion liked the rambling, winding roads of his hometown, he couldn’t deny that the more structured, preplanned design of Canterlot made it much easier to navigate the city. It was simply a matter of learning the street names (which he’d done in the weeks after construction of the city had first started) and following them from there.
Gabion deliberately hung back a little when dinner came, looking for- There she was. Princess Celestia was sitting in the same corner, looking for all the world like an isolated, shunned foal. Who was still the most regal pony in the crowd. Again, Gabion sat opposite her once he’d gotten his salad. He glanced at her stance and idly said, “We’ll need to get you a better chair.”
“Oh, no,” said Princess Celestia quickly, “I couldn’t bear getting special treatment just for thi-”
“It’s not special treatment, it’s comfort,” Gabion said around a crouton. “I don’t mean getting you a padded armchair with hoofrests. Just something that allows you to sit without your knees poking you in the face whenever you bend down to take a bite.”
“Oh, it’s not that bad,” Princess Celestia said dismissively. “It is…” She wiggled her rump a little and twitched in a way that Gabion knew was hiding a grimace. “…a bit uncomfortable, I’ll admit, but I can manage.”
“Uh-huh.” Gabion looked at Princess Celestia. He took a bite of his salad.
Princess Celestia looked at Gabion. She didn’t a bite of her salad.
Gabion looked at Princess Celestia. He took another bite of his salad.
Princess Celestia looked at Gabion. She still didn’t a bite of her salad.
“Wonderful salad, isn’t it?” Gabion asked. He realized he was grinning, like he was ribbing Flagstone over some stupid mistake she’d made.
Although she sighed, Princess Celestia was smiling. “Very well. You can have a larger chair built for me.” She bent down and took a bite of her salad. Her knees poked her in the face.
“Of course I can. I’m in charge of all of this.”
They ate.
“You could’ve just levitated the salad itself, you know,” commented Gabion.
“It’s impolite to do that.”
“…You probably shouldn’t listen to the other workers, then.”
Princess Celestia chuckled. “Too late.”
The next day whizzed by, and it was dinner again before Gabion knew it. He went back to the corner and was surprised that- “I only told the carpenters about your need for a better seat this morning,” he said incredulously, “and you already have one?”
For Princess Celestia was sitting lower, in a much more natural position than last night. “It’s not much more than a wood panel on the ground,” she said, “but it’s more than sufficient, thank you.” She took a bite of oats, her knees not bumping her in the face.
“Good,” said Gabion. “Let me know if you need-”
“Hey.” Flagstone pushed her way in next to Gabion. “Celly — mind if I call you Celly?-” (Gabion was briefly mortified, but Princess Celestia looked like she took no offense.) “-Letter Cut and I have a bet going. What’s your peytral necklace thing made of? Letter says it’s solid gold, because he’s an idiot and it’s so thick it would weigh like half as much as you if that were true. I say it’s mostly some lighter metal and gilded in gold. So?” Flagstone made big, questioning eyes. Gabion supposed he’d be a bit more miffed at the impropriety if he hadn’t asked a question about her crown two nights ago.
“It’s actually made mostly of aluminum,” said Princess Celestia. “The core is a frame-”
“Holy crow, aluminum?” Flagstone boggled. “How long did it take to refine all that?” She twisted around and yelled into the crowd, “Hey! Letter! Celestia says her peytral’s made out of aluminum! You owe me!”
“Say it louder,” Gabion whispered, “I don’t think they heard you on the other side of camp.”
Flagstone grinned guilelessly. “Well, since that’s where he is…” She took a deep breath and yelled, “HEY! LETTER! CELESTIA SAYS-” Her shouting match — or to be more precise, her sudden lack thereof — ground to a halt as she looked like she’d been hit in the face with a frying pan. She blinked and rubbed at her mysteriously silent throat. Glowering at Gabion, she muttered, “Very funny.”
Gabion blinked. “What’re you looking at me f-” He blinked again and stared at Princess Celestia.
Her horn was glimmering yellow and she had her mouth covered in a hoof, shaking like she was about to break out in a fit of giggles. “Did- hehe- Did you see the look on her face?”
Flagstone looked like she’d been hit with the frying pan even harder and Celestia’s wings started twitching. Flagstone leaned over and whispered in Gabion’s ear, “The princess is laughing at me. Is that a good sign or a bad sign?”
“I’m- hehe- I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” said Celestia, getting her laughter under control. “I know I shouldn’t, but do you know how long it’s been since I’ve really let my mane down? Or…” She batted at the netted bun that was her mane and shrugged. “Holding decorum can be hard work, and… and…” She met eyes with Flagstone, reddened, and suddenly became incredibly interested in her turnover.
“It’s good,” Flagstone stage-whispered to Gabion.
Celestia’s wings slackened and she raised her head again. “I’m sorry, truly,” she said. “I didn’t mean to offend you in the sli-”
“And you didn’t,” interrupted Flagstone. “It’s just… you, princess, me, builder…” She made vague gestures between the two of them and shrugged. “How do you react to that?”
“Mmhmm.” Celestia nodded. She opened her mouth, then closed it again. “Perhaps I need a vacation,” she mused.
“You could hold some kind of…” Gabion paused as he dug for suggestions. “…annual royal ball, or something.”
Celestia grimaced. “I’d rather not. As princess, I’d be expected to meet and greet all night. It would be more of a hassle than my duties already are.”
“Maybe you could trade off with Luna every hour.”
“Maybe.” But Celestia still didn’t look convinced.
A voice, semi-muffled by the crowd, wafted over to them. “-of the way!” A bulky earth pony pulled himself from the pack, bumped against the table, and quickly stood up straight. “You’re kidding me, Flagstone,” he said flatly.
“Am not!” Flagstone said cheerily. “Just ask her!” She gestured at Celestia.
Letter Cut did a double-take when he saw Celestia right there. His legs and ears twitched before he managed to get himself under control with a deep breath. “So…” His mouth worked but he didn’t say anything for several seconds. “Aluminum?”
“It’s mostly a hollow frame of aluminum,” said Celestia. “The gold comes from gilding. Can you imagine how heavy it would be if it were solid gold?”
“Not too heavy for you, I’d thought.” To Flagstone, Letter Cut said, “Fine. A deal’s a deal. You’ll get your bits tomorrow.”
“Ha! Yesssss.”
Letter Cut raised a foot to leave, then paused and looked around. He vanished into the crowd.
“Anyway,” Flagstone said, hopping off the bench, “thanks for the win, but I don’t want Caisson stealing any more of my dinner than he already has, so I gotta get going.”
“Sure,” said Gabion with a wave. “Be seeing-”
Letter Cut popped back out of the crowd, carrying his dishes in his mouth or balancing them on his head. “There’s a lot more room here,” he said preemptively once he’d put his dishes on the table. “I hope you don’t mind my butting in, Celestia.”
“Oh, not at all!” Celestia said, smiling. “I rather enjoy getting to know my little ponies.”
Flagstone looked at the tables, then at the open space around her. “I’ll be right back,” she said.
A week passed smoothly.
“You haven’t said a thing about the food not being up to snuff,” said Bush Hammer.
“It’s not what I’m used to, but it’s not bad,” said Celestia. “It’s more than acceptable as food for workers. I wasn’t always a princess, remember.”
Voussoir frowned. “Like what? I’ve… To be honest, I’ve never heard a thing about you and Luna before you vanquished Discord.”
But Celestia just smiled as she chewed at her carrot.
A month.
“-but when Viridia opened the package,” Celestia said, barely managing to keep her chuckles under control, “do you know what she found? A hairbrush!”
The entire table collapsed into laughter. Gabion nearly choked when he snorted in his water and he was pretty sure he saw Flagstone spray soup from her nose.
“Needless… hehe… Needless to say, that knocked the wind out of her sails for a while,” said Celestia. “But, thankfully, at least one lesson stuck: she never tried to bribe mailmares again.”
Gabion pushed close to Celestia and said, “You know, no offense, but it’s a bit reassuring that nearly every level of society finds midlevel nobles like that to be puffed-up, self-important stots.”
“They’re even worse for me!” said Celestia. “At least you don’t have to deal with them constantly brownnosing you!”
“Heh. Very true, very true.”
Another.
“Well,” Gabion said, frowning at the map, “if we put the waterwheel in a canal just before the waterfall, then… I… think we’d get pretty constant hydroarcanic generation. I’m not completely certain, though. We’d need to talk with an arcanophysicist.”
“And it wouldn’t interfere with the construction of Canterlot?” Celestia asked. “Or- the construction of Canterlot wouldn’t interfere with it?”
Gabion tapped a few points on the map, all in canals. “Not at these points. We haven’t started building anything yet, and there aren’t many buildings planned there anyway. Based on the current rate of construction, we won’t start there for… another two or three years.”
“Perfect. I’ll send for the proper unicorns to take a look in due time.”
“If this works, it’ll be great.”
And the seasons turned onward.
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Celly made friends. Yay.
Good to see Celly being able to interact with ponies who'd usually fear her. In multiple definitions of the word, even.
Well, this is working out nicely. Hopefully nothing ruins this rapport.
Something probably will, because narrative, but still.
This third chapter is better than the last.
Adding it to my Favourites only after two chapters was a good call.
The Applejack Engineer inside me approves of this story
I always assumed her peytral was gold-plated vibranium.
So I just go to this. I'm liking how this story is treating Luna.
Let me explain. It's been a hundred years. Luna is in the background of ponies minds. They aren't really thinking about her, the fact Luna wasn't immediately assumed to run the government while Celestia was away is a prime example of the "i know Luna exists, I just constantly forget about her." It's great subtle story telling showing that Luna is being pushed more and more into the background. Where she will eventually break.
(Yes I know Bush remembers Luna for the idea for the ball but that's after knowing Celestia the pony for a few days, not being blinded by the majesty of Princess Celestia.)