Biological Clock

by Hasty Revision

Chapter 2

The sound of wingbeats drew Luna to the front window like a filly to a plate of cookies. That it turned out to be the mail delivery made her wilt like a filly who discovered those same cookies were unsweetened licorice snaps. She ducked away from the blinds and looked to the treacherous clock. She could swear that Discord was sneaking in backward ticks when she wasn't looking. It was well and truly impossible for it to have only been five minutes since the last time she'd checked.

“What is taking you so long?”

She had been assured that Celestia's first visit to the clinic would be only an hour or two at most. Dr. Branch had come highly recommended to her by one of her own guards. A miracle worker, that was what she'd been promised. And that was what she, in turn, had promised Celestia.

“It only took my wife two hours,” Nightwatch had told her. “A few questions and some bloodwork was all the doctor needed to figure everything out.” They'd had foal number two on the way even as Celestia's negative tests piled up.

She picked up her pacing once more. The doctors would help her sister. Modern medicine was nothing but miracles! Why anypony would resist visiting such skilled healers she could only imagine came down to lack of perspective. A perspective that her sister ought to have had, and yet it'd taken twisting all four of her legs to get her to go. Surely she could see that these modern healers were nothing like the ones of their youth? Those blustering fools took Meadowbrook's disappearance as an excuse to turn back nearly two decades of progress out of blind spite for her brilliance. That her cure for Swamp Fever had ever been lost was a travesty.

Luna knew things were different, for not once since her return, not once, had she been prescribed a leeching. Long had she suspected that the principal benefit of leeches was to steer the patient's complaints away from their illness and towards the leeches, thus giving them an ailment the self-important quacks could legitimately claim to know how to solve. For every healer applying useful cures back in her youth, there were a dozen with family in the leech farming business. The world was well rid of such nonsense now, and better for it!

Unless Celestia knew something she didn't? What if Celestia had a good reason to resist visiting a fertility clinic? What if she'd lead Celestia astray? What if they couldn't help her? What if she'd gotten her hopes up for nothing after she'd already waited for so long? What if that was--?

Luna stopped in her tracks and shook her head hard.

“Enough of this! It will be fine! Celestia will be fine! It's not your faul--” she took a deep breath, “it's not my fault. She was merely… busy. She was just too busy to have foals all that time. She said so herself.”

She glanced up at the clock. Three minutes this time. Liar.

“Celestia wouldn't lie though. Not about that. It will all be fine.” She assumed her most royal posture before her audience of overstuffed lounge furniture. “All shall be well! Celestia will return with good news, and we shall celebrate the coming of a new niece or nephew. Then there shall be two royal foals, and the doting shall be doubled!”

Her royal facade crumbled slightly. “Except that Celestia will be too busy with her own child to join me in my visits to Flurry. Celestia always sets our agenda when we foalsit for Cadance and Shining Armor. What would I even do with Flurry without her--” her expression turned to horror, “I'll have to foalsit for Celestia. She'll leave her own child in my hooves whenever she gallivants off on one of her thrill-seeking romps with Twilight Velvet. She certainly can't take a foal rappelling down the Abysmal Abyss with them, or whatever other mad idea they think of next.”

Luna's pacing began anew, back and forth between the sofa and the open doorway to the kitchen.

“Will I have to move out? She and the foal will need space; I can't always be hovering around while Celestia is mothering her foal! I'll be an intruder, a-- a third wheel! I'll need to find my own place. Is the other side of town far enough or should I move to another city? I've never lived alone before! I-- I--” A deep shiver stopped her in her tracks. Her next words shook in her suddenly arid throat. “I've never lived alone before.”

---

Outside the sisters' house, two lightly armored royal guards stood at uneasy attention at either side of the front door, made uneasy by the muffled ranting just audible through the bay window on the front wall. The more junior guard, a pegasus stallion, flinched at the sound of some piece of furniture being violently disturbed.

“Should we, uh, do something?” His more senior unicorn comrade shook his head. Another heavy thump rattled the window along with a muted expletive. “Are you sure?”

“This is normal.” A duller third thump came just before a louder second expletive. “She gets like this whenever Princess Celestia goes anywhere new without her since they retired. She'll calm down soon.” The confidence of his voice was only somewhat belied by a wary twitch of his ear. “Probably.”

A new, more rhythmic series of thuds suspiciously akin to what a larger than average head might make when thumped upon a coffee table didn't do the younger guard's nerves any favors.

“Will she be okay?”

“Just keep watching for paparazzi, Private. Anything else about these two is out of our league.”

---

Luna let herself slump over the coffee table from her decidedly un-regal seat on the carpet. She was being ridiculous, of course she was being ridiculous. Celestia wasn't going to notice that she'd kicked an end table out of place. Even if she had, she wouldn't have made an issue out of it. She wouldn't have gotten worried or questioned if she was okay or needed help or any of the other thousand things she was afraid of, so panicking as she had was completely absurd.

She might notice the new horn-gouges in the coffee table, but who was counting by this point?

Wandering eyes landing on the clock told her that it has been six minutes this time. Six miserable little minutes. Minutes which she'd been promised were so close in length to those told by the minute glasses of yesteryear as to be indistinguishable. She wished to believe otherwise. She'd rather believe that time was a flexible, mutable thing that sought to twist itself into knots for the pleasure of torturing ponies who had something to wait for. That would give her anything to blame but herself for her misery.

“Where are you? What is taking so long?”

As much as she resented the doctors of the past, it wasn't the leeches behind the specter of dread clawing at the back of her neck. That stemmed from the other sort of doctor's prescription. The kind that even the kindest and most reputable of doctors from her youth would give far too often: try to make her comfortable. Being given leeches meant that the doctor thought that treatment was an option. So many ponies never had that option. Even modern doctors would sometimes face the grim reality that comfort was all they would be able to offer.

But it couldn't be bad news. Celestia's health was impeccable. She hadn't aged a day in the past thousand years. Years spent in the care of ponies who would sooner feast on salads of poison joke and thistles than let her fall into ill health.

Then again… she wasn't quite as she'd used to be, was she? Her strength and stamina were certainly not what they once were, but that was plainly a lack of exercise. That she'd maintained any measure of fitness after a millennium of sedentary political life was proof itself of her strong constitution!

“She'll be fine. She'll return any minute now with nothing but good news. Perhaps she's… stopped to grab a treat, to celebrate! A cake, or-- or a--”

The front door unlatched.

“Luna! I'm home!”

Luna scrambled off the floor to meet her sister in the front hall just as the door shut again.

“Celestia! Where have… you…?”

That… was a great deal of food. A great deal. Bulging bags of every sweet, starchy, or otherwise decadent thing the pair of them ever ate, all crammed into the negative space around her sister. Even more of ingredients for favorite dishes, and multiple boxes bearing the branding of local bakeries, candy makers, and at least two pizzerias. That her sister was within the swarm was an educated guess best supported by the sunny yellow magic holding it all having to come from somewhere.

“Oh, don't mind me, just a few groceries.” The wall of edibles advanced like a pantry avalanche. A pizza box departed the flock to hover under Luna's nose, or close enough for a mare whose view was mostly blocked by baguettes. “Here! Three-mushroom and three cheese with olives. Please, help yourself while I put this all away.”

Luna took hold of the box with her magic more out of reflex than any understanding of what was happening. Her attention stayed on the floating grocery store as it blindly negotiated its way around the doorway into the kitchen. Outlying bags bumped against the frame to be dragged through behind the rest of the swarm in its passing. Only once her sister's entourage was out of sight did Luna jar herself back into action to follow in stunned silence.

The gnawing ache in the pit of her stomach had very little to do with her appetite.

---

“What do you think, Luna? Scalloped potatoes tonight?” Five pounds worth of potatoes rose into an indecisive hover over the main island counter where Luna sat with her half-eaten pizza. Appetite, it transpired, returned quickly enough when duly provoked after a skipped lunch. “Do you prefer skins on or off?”

“Either way is fine. How was the doctor's visit?”

Celestia started to weave the potatoes through the floating obstacle course of food she'd yet to put away that still hovered around her. Plenty of it already occupied the available counter space along the wall and the island, and more had been stowed away in the walk-in pantry and both refrigerators. Luna didn't know if she should be glad they'd gotten a kitchen big enough to keep up with her sister, or resent its size for enabling her.

“Skin on it is. Potatoes are nothing but starch otherwise.”

“Most of this proposed dinner is nothing but starch.” Luna hefted another sloppy slice of thoroughly cheesed pizza in her magic. “The rest is oil or sugar.”

“Oh, don't exaggerate,” Celestia scoffed. “Hmm… strawberry cheesecake for dessert tonight or the Germane chocolate cake?”

“Either. Now, about the doctor--”

Both cakes whizzed past on the way to the refrigerator. “I suppose we can pick when we get there! Let me see, where should I put these bananas? I was thinking of making banana bread this weekend, they ought to be just ripe enough by then. Oh, where is the ice cream? That needs to go away before it melts.”

Luna took a grumpy bite of pizza to stifle her own grumbling. It was bad enough that her sister had made her sit in worry for hours upon hours just so that she could buy enough food to sate a gang of adolescent dragons for her to hide behind, but to blithely ignore her and talk over her? It was only marginally less insulting than outright lying. Celestia was good at hiding her thoughts, but not her feelings. Never her feelings. Not even a thousand years of practice could stop it all being right there in her eyes.

That, presumably, was why Celestia refused to look at her.

“I picked up some of that sourdough you like as well.”

“Celestia.”

Potatoes thudded into the sink.

“Ugh, really, Luna. It was a doctor's visit. Lots of questions, cold implements, and undersized furniture. Now, do you see the ice cream anywhere or not?”

“You put it away five minutes ago.”

Celestia paused mid step. She cast her eyes about the groceries still scattered about the air and countertops and everywhere that wasn't Luna, before hesitantly asking, “are you sure?”

“It went in the left refrigerator after the eggs, milk, and brie, but before the puff pastry, mozzarella, and root beer.”

Celestia shook off her moment of uncertainty and beamed a smile in no particular direction. “Ah! Of course. Have you ever tried a root beer float? I thought we could have some on the deck tomorrow while we grill up the carrots. The weather scheduled is perfect for a little cookout. I can make that potato salad we had last month that you liked.”

Luna threw down her crust. “That is enough, sister. Out with it!”

The groceries closed ranks around Celestia, particularly around her face. “I… don't know what you mean.”

“You're hiding something, and I want to know what it is. Need I remind you what happens when we are not honest with one another?”

“I'm not hiding--”

“That's IT!” Luna kicked away her stool and stormed around the island towards her backpedaling sister, who made the unfortunate tactical blunder of letting herself get backed into the pantry. “I will tolerate your evasions.” Her aura lanced through her sister's to tug the groceries from her grasp. “And I will tolerate your diversions.” She set it all aside, jamming it in wherever it'd fit and leaving nothing for Celestia to cower behind but her own mane. “I will even tolerate being told that something is not my business.” Celestia's tail bumped into the shelves of dry goods at the back of the pantry. “But you will NOT lie to me!”

Luna glared up at her sister who still kept her face turned safely away behind the curtain of her mane. Rare though it was for anypony to challenge Celestia so directly, Luna had enjoyed the privilege enough times to imagine the expressions warring across her visage as the seconds ticked by. Luna didn't need for Celestia to turn her head to know the look of abject defeat that must have settled into her eyes when she finally sat down upon the hardwood floor.

“What if,” Celestia cleared her throat of the terrible rasp those words came with, “what if I said it wasn't your business now?”

“The contents of your movable feast tell a much different story.”

Celestia's head came up just enough for one eye to glance around at the now haphazardly stocked shelves around them. “I eat when I'm upset, I admit that. But--”

“You eat when you're frustrated. You cook when you're upset. You cook for others when you're upset for them.” A loaf of hearty, crusty bread floated between them. “You hate sourdough, sister. You bought it because you know that I love it.” The loaf found its place in the general vicinity of the other breads. “You've brought home just about every food that I've told you I liked since my return, on top of what few remain from the old days. Your plan, so far as I can see, is to stuff me with food until I am no longer able to walk under my own power. What am I to imagine this means, sister?”

Celestia's neck drooped until her mane spilled over her face entirely once more. “I… can't.”

Luna snorted and scuffed the floor hard enough to scratch the tiles. “You cannot say. You have spent two years fixated on this matter, talking my ears off about it at every opportunity. All those late evenings spent designing and redesigning your dream nursery. A list of foals names longer than a full-grown sea serpent, and now you have nothing left to say on the matter? Can you imagine for one moment how frightened I am right now, sister?” Celestia cringed. “Have you any idea how it feels to see you return from a doctor in such a state? Have you forgotten what such a thing used to mean?”

“I can't,” Celestia whispered, almost pleading. “Luna, I can't.”

“Why! Why can't you tell me? Why…”

Too late Luna saw how Celestia was shivering. How her wings were clamped tight to sides that shuddered with suppressed sobs. And how the tiny puddles of water at her forehooves accumulated drop by drop.

“I am telling you, Luna.”

Luna tore her eyes off the teardrops. “I don't understand.”

“The doctor told me that I'm… I'm in 'perfect' health. I have the body of a twenty-five year old mare, and that's the only thing wrong with me.”

Luna's brow furrowed deeply. That wasn't a joke. It ought to have been a joke; Celestia had made such jokes after routine (and thoroughly unnecessary) doctor's visits before. 'Setting a good example', she called them, and Luna had seen the wisdom of it after her first encounter with a newspaper. But those good-natured japes were delivered with the effortless humor of a mare untouchable. There was no humor in her now.

“What do you mean? Please, speak plainly, sister.”

Celestia sniffed and dabbed at her eyes beneath the veil of her mane. “I'm old, Luna. I'm so old, but my body thinks I'm still so young. Every cycle goes wrong, but my magic says that everything is fine and to keep trying. So it just keeps trying over and over again. For a thousand years my body has been telling me that there was still a chance. That it wasn't already too late.”

Luna was not as ignorant of the modern era as once she'd been, owing to many hours of devoted study in the royal libraries. One particularly awkward tome represented society's best attempt to explain the miracle of foaling to the common pony without using any of the dozens of words that would have done the job in moments. The common pony knew just enough for the bottom drop to out of her stomach a mere moment before Celestia gave her condition a name.

Had the blow been delivered by one of the Crystal Empire's champion jousters it could not have struck so true.

“I'm sterile, Luna. I've been sterile for over nine-hundred years.”