11. Cold Victory
The Last Nightguard
Cold Victory
“Legal services for Royal Guard employees is provided through the personnel office at a reasonable rate for events such as home purchases, minor legal problems, and other such occasions where you need support.”
—Legal Aide Services - Here When You Need Us
Three words bound the world, harder than diamonds to say, and yet others made it look so easy. They were words that Luna had never heard her sister say, although she had to admit a certain lack of the same. Breaking a mountain would have been easy by comparison, or smiting King Sombra and his helmeted minions, although that too was done with her sister at her side. A single witness would have driven Luna back into the shadows, even a mouse, but she had timed her confession for an hour in the morning when Celestia would be separated from her duties.
“Thou wert right.”
There was silence in the small room, broken only by the faint rustling of paper. Then Celestia’s calm voice whispered, “Luna? What are you doing in the bathroom?”
“Apologizing.” Luna shuffled her hooves, trying not to look at the guilty mare who looked back at her from all of the room’s mirrors. “We are bad at it. Insufficient practice, I suppose.”
“I… might say the same.” The sound of flushing came from Celestia’s stall and her sister slowly emerged, moving carefully in the close confines of the small room. Everything in this new world was too small for Luna’s comfort, which must have been so much more uncomfortable for her larger sister. There was no reason why Celestia could not have constructed the palace to her larger dimensions… except all of their subjects would have been uncomfortable, like foals in a world of adult ponies.
Luna was feeling very much like a foal now, humiliated more than if she had wet the bed.
“Wash your hooves. Our Guard says it is a habit of the modern age,” she said reflexively to divert her mind from such morose musing. There was more that needed to be said, and Luna forced herself onward no matter how much the words tasted like lunar dust in her mouth. “There are a great number of things which We are ignorant of, and the road back to the respect of Our subjects is going to be long and rough. To discard advice from others, and particularly to turn my back on you is the mark of a weak pony.”
“You’re not weak, Luna.” Celestia hesitated in front of the sink before forcing herself to turn on the water tap and begin her ablutions rather than face her sister. It was the mark of a pony trapped by tradition, walking the fine line between extremes like Celestia had always managed. The last thousand years had not changed those habits in the least. The Sun had remained constant and dependable while Moon had flailed about like…
“I’m the weak one,” admitted Celestia just barely audible above the sound of running water. “Blind and weak. I turned my back on you once and it cost me far too much. Now, I’m doing it again. Going around your wishes. Hiding my decisions from you. Making decisions without your council.”
“We do not trust our own decisions in this matter any more,” said Luna directly, even though it felt as if she were speaking words made out of shattered glass that sliced her throat and tongue with every sound. “Our Guard, flawed as he is, hath greater wisdom than mine own.”
Luna did not want to admit her interactions with the young Peanut Brittle, who had proven herself wiser than both of her exceedingly ancient companions. It was sufficient that Celestia know of Luna’s regret. Besides, it was highly probable that Celestia would disapprove of a foal offering advice to her sister, and the last thing Peanut needed was that kind of pressure when her life should be filled with the pleasures of carefree youth. Leave the pain and misery to the old. She would grow into it far too soon.
“Ebon Tide…” Celestia quietly turned off the tap and turned around with exceeding caution so she did not hit any of the walls in the small room. “My intentions were good, but my decisions nearly destroyed him twice now. Condemning him to death by neglect was not the act of a compassionate princess. Far worse, I did it to protect you, but caused you such terrible pain instead. I was so cruel that I would have seen him die rather than cause you trouble in this modern era.”
“It is the role of our Guard to die for us,” said Luna bluntly. “They do that which we cannot. I… have finally come to believe that Ebon Tide was not sent to attack me, by your intent or his accidental twisting of your command. That was his own decision, the last he has been permitted to make. We have usurped his will far worse than you. We took away his choice in his own life. Both of us are guilty.”
“A lifetime of soap and water cannot scrub away the blood.” Celestia wiped a damp hoof across her forehead, pushing back enough of her glowing mane that Luna could see both eyes for a change, although she barely could work up the willpower to look her sister in the face as Celestia continued on. “I tried. Stars know, I tried. When I finally recovered from our battle, I wanted to hate you, put all the blame on you alone, but there had been too much blood shed for me to elude the guilt of my decision. Worse, as time went on, the survivors had only one physical pony remaining to credit for saving them from a terrible fate, and they blamed you far more than I ever could. It pained me that your good works were so quickly forgotten while the Nightmare stayed in our subjects’ minds, so I worked on changing your legacy. Over time, I changed the Nightmare into a legend, a fable, a story told by the fireside. Then after a few centuries, the stories were all that remained, and the foals believed in your new role with all their hearts.”
“The Candy Princess,” said Luna with a tiny spark of light forming in her dark thoughts. Celestia jerked as if she had been pricked by a pin, and she looked up with wide, startled eyes.
“You know?”
“I was told by a very small spy,” admitted Luna. “We are not certain how positive this portrayal is, because the candy that I sampled is cloyingly sweet. Still, it is a responsibility held most seriously by the youth of this time, so we shall strengthen our gullet and persevere. You may remain the Princess of Cake,” she added quickly. “Please.”
The bathroom remained quiet for a time as two princesses relished their fleeting moments as sisters once again. Then Celestia let out her breath, closed her eyes, and ever so slowly began to shake her head. “I’ve led this nation for centuries in your absence, trying to shape my decisions as if you were still standing beside me. That false image is all I could cling to in my darkest times, and I’m totally unprepared for what comes now. Where do we go from here, Luna?”
“I know not.” Luna stamped one hoof, making a sharp noise in the small room. “Our breast is still filled to overflowing with rage over real and imagined slights. It makes my skin crawl and my rest fleeting. The longer I am within your presence, the stronger it becomes.”
Celestia did not say anything, but the strained expression that swept over her face spoke louder than words.
“No, not the Nightmare,” said Luna firmly. “That was a burning of envy and desire until my whole body felt engulfed in flames. This is more… like a bathroom visit long delayed.”
“I suppose that is an improvement,” said Celestia very slowly. “And we are in an appropriate location to discuss such things.”
There was a faint tapping at the bathroom door and a guard called out quietly as if he did not want to be heard, and particularly did not want to come inside to ask the question. “Princess? Are you okay?”
“I shall be right out,” said Celestia as an obvious reflex, although she turned back to Luna almost immediately. “Unless you want me to take the day off and spend it with you.”
“No.” Luna could not keep her eyes from taking in Celestia’s obvious signs of stress, from the faint lines of tense muscles in her face to the way she had obviously cut short her grooming this morning. “Go forth and bring peace to our subjects. No doubt they have a multitude of questions, none of which I feel like answering at this time. Lie to them in my stead, please.”
“It is not considered lying anymore. It is phrasing an answer to provide the listener an assumption that varies in some degree from the real world. It is diplomacy,” Celestia added.
“Go diplomacy then,” said Luna, who had to close her eyes to keep from thinking about how she would act when surrounded by the nattering nitwits that seemed to infect the court in such vast array, a constant that had undoubtedly followed her through the ages. “I am sick of lies. Besides, I have need of these facilities once you have departed.”
* * *
“It has been decided,” started Luna once she returned to the hospital room. There was not any immediate response, so she remained standing in the middle of the tile floor, watching the sheet across Ebon Tide’s frail body rise and fall ever so slightly with his respiration.
At least he still lived. Had Eb passed away while Luna was abasing herself to Celestia… She did not want to think about it, much like she did not bring up the fate of Nightmare Moon’s creations in the present day, or what exactly being the Princess of Candy entailed for duties. Evasion did not become a princess, but Luna was stepping back into her duties with ginger tread, and such things took time.
It was unwise to rush things, much like she had attempted to rush Ebon Tide’s recovery with her foolish… No, her corrupted magic. Her Guard was only one pony. Had she made such a mistake with her subjects as a whole, the disaster of Nightmare Moon could play out all over again.
A chill swept over her, a cold that went straight for the bones regardless of the cheerful beam of Sun that poured in through the hospital room window. It reminded her of another wonder, since she was used to glass being precious, lumpy and colored with streaks at best. This was so pure and clear it was almost like air had been captured and held by magic. Her own corrupted self should have likewise been cleansed by her long isolation, stepping forth from the colorful fire of the Elements of Harmony as a new mare much like this modern glass, and probably as fragile. Only fire could cleanse impurities by destroying them, and there was so much about her corrupted nature that a proper fire would leave naught but ash, or perhaps an innocent foal with no memories of her past. Instead, she remained just as foul and more fragile than glass, wandering through this new world in search of a hammer to end her existence.
The thought only brought more stress to her life, since there was so much unknown in the world for her to blunder into. Perhaps it would have been better if she had remained in her beloved Moon forever.
“Certainly.”
Luna jerked to her hooves, glancing in all directions before settling on directing her ire at two glowering golden eyes peering out from under Ebon Tide’s bedsheet.
“Take me with you,” he rasped. “Somepony must share your cell in order to guard your imprisonment, and it might as well be me. Every pony I knew before is dead, and the guards of this era are blithering incompetents. There is naught left for me in this life.”
“We were not intending to speak aloud,” she managed levelly.
“If you were speaking to yourself, you should speak quieter.” Ebon Tide poked his head out from under the sheet and flicked one ear, which had just begun to be covered by a fine coat of grey hairs like the rest of his wrinkled dark body. “If you did not want me to listen, you should not have given me such sharp ears with your infernal spell. I can hear everything, from the noises out in the streets to the nurses in the corridor flirting with the Guard whenever they are around.”
“Oh.” Luna’s initial fear settled down into a dark lump in her belly. “At least one thing has not changed.”
“Or the race of ponies would have died out,” continued Ebon Tide, still sounding terribly dry. He accepted the glass of water that Luna retrieved for him without comment, much like it was traditional for a Dread Sovereign to serve one of her Guards like a slave.
Then again, Luna had not seen any slaves at all since being freed from Nightmare Moon’s influence. It was a relief that the practice had become at least less popular, but still one more difference that made this modern world press down upon her like a great weight as if she did not belong anywhere, much like Eb had stated.
“Thank you,” said Ebon Tide through gritted teeth as if he were having some sort of pain in his gut. “The nurses treat me like some sort of potted plant. It is good to have a familiar face here, even if it is yours.”
“Your thanks are not needed. They are appreciated, though. It is… good to have… I cannot call that a familiar face,” she finally admitted. “And I cannot change it back.”
“I live. Without your interference, I would have died,” he said bluntly. “Stuffed full of tubes and medicine until I slipped away. I would be with my wife and children, but I would leave you unprotected in this strange world.”
“Protected?” Despite her best effort, Luna’s left eyebrow lifted slightly. “Against what, angry mice?”
Ebon Tide rose up from the bed, wrapped the sheet around his torso like some sort of Roaman noble, and called out, “Master of the Post! Report! NOW!”
The chubby Guard managed to make it through the doorway without falling down, although it was a close thing with as many directions his hooves were flying when he made the corner.
“Specialist Crupper, First House Division,” snapped Eb before the hapless Guard managed to skid to a halt with a few feathers floating to the ground in his wake. “Your worthless carcass is still assigned to protect Her Highness?”
“Yes! I mean yes, sir!” Crupper saluted so hard that his forehoof rebounded off his helmet with a sharp clang and a few sparks.
“You were talking with the nurse at the end of the hallway a few drips ago,” continued Eb. “Distracted from your duties. Still not wearing your armor correctly. Where is your superior officer?”
“Captain Ramparts is due to return to the city tomorrow,” said Crupper quickly, ruffling his wings.
“I want him here first thing after he lands. No, make that before he lands!” barked Eb. “We are going to have a talk about your attitude and your future. Dismissed! Back to your duty and if I hear one word between you and the nurses—” thin dark lips peeled back from Eb’s bloody gums, showing the tips of bright white teeth “—you will be posted so far north that the windigo will look attractive!”
“Yessir!” Crupper reversed his position with a flurry of wings and bounced off the hospital room door, taking three attempts before vanishing back out into the hallway and his post, which he presumably was going to pay far more attention to for at least the next few hours.
Ever so slowly, Ebon Tide collapsed back onto his pillow, breathing heavily.
“I could have done that,” muttered Luna.
“Your authority is barely fledged and completely different from your sister.” Eb waved a weak forehoof at Luna’s wings. “You rule, that is true, but the Guard follows orders according to our oath. Should you order a Guard to slay a child, for example, you should expect him to tell you exactly where you can stick that order. If a superior in the Guard were to issue that same order… Well, I should hope the result would be the same, but with more thought as to why exactly such an order would be given. After all, the superior officer has more experience, a greater responsibility for those beneath him, and greater consequences for his failures. Guards are Guards, Princesses are Princesses.”
“Yet we give the orders,” said Luna quietly.
“And we bleed for them,” said Eb. “To our last breath, to the last drop of blood in our bodies, to the end of our days we shall serve thee. Forsaking all other oaths and titles we shall serve thee. No harm shall we allow, no blight upon your honor shall besmirch the Crown while we stand, united in your defense as brothers through life and unto death.”
Luna said nothing, but her thoughts whirled back to the ranks of Guards she had seen take the oath since the birth of Equestria. Guards who had lived and died to protect her, regardless of her present worth.
Eb continued, “Each Guard, even that pathetic example, takes its authority from Guards above it according to rank and seniority, right up to the top.” He stifled a short snort against his forehoof. “I scarcely can think of another Guard with more seniority than myself.”
“Truth.” Luna could feel the hot iron wires of tension running down her back begin to ease. “You have been a Guard for quite nearly as long as we established the order. You must have a considerable amount of back pay—"
One thing Luna had always been good with was numbers.
“Beg pardon.” She stood abruptly and turned for the hospital room door. “We must see the Royal Exchequer at once.”
“Don’t mind me,” said Ebon Tide. He took a drink from the glass that Luna had left by his bedside, then settled down on his pillow again as the room became emptier. “I’ll just be lying here, plotting your deserved demise. After a nap. Or two.”
He was not awake when Princess Luna cornered the Royal Exchequer, but he should have been able to hear the distant scream of terror anyway.
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Even alicorns must bow before the most powerful fiscal force in the universe.
By Harmony they're actually talking to each other! What is this madness?
1 percent increase per year isnt all that much, even over a thousand years. Roughly 21 thousand times larger would turn a $15k a year wage into $3 Billion a year. Which Im assuming is still nowhere near Fancy Pants or Blueblood.
Then again, theres a big increase in base wage having to be taken inbto account, between inflation and changes in monetary representation over the millenia?
Now if he had been on Hazard and Combat pay, with a slightly higher percentage for overtime, then yes, he would end up with half the Royal Treasury, if the Trasury hadnt been used to pay for things in the intervening years.
I can't help but imagine an Equestrian version of Candyland. We have the Princesses of Cake and Candy. Twilight can presumably be the Princess of Drinks That Technically Have Coffee Somewhere Amid the Milk and Syrup. But then there's Cadence. Princess of Cookies, maybe?
In any case, wonderful to see the sisters actually talk to one another, though they may want to get a therapist involved. And Luna and Eb do have a good rapport going, at least for now. Things are looking up... which makes me wonder what they're going to trip over.
11402918
Twilight's true, most terrible title is Princess of Compound Interest.
Well now, so good to see Luna has taken the big step and talked with her sister rather than talking at her. Celestia has immediately gone into graceful sister mode and thus many rough spots have been smoothed. Much still to be sorted but at least things are looking like they are going in the right direction.
Also good to see Eb's original character is beginning to return to the fore... the character that made him a leader and the sole member of his Guard to resist the fall.
Still having to resist the urge to continually use the quote "...and so a child shall lead them."
So we have back-pay, musn't forget overtime (1000 year non-stop duty), hazard pay (the moon is a dangerous place), unspent leave, all this, accumulated over a thousand years, plus interest.
The accountants just and came back - we may have a problem: Total amount owed to Ebon Tide may become the second highest expense for the Diarchy this year, exceeding the Ponyville disaster budget and nearly reaching Celestia's annual cake expenses.
11402923
Not madness. Communication. And 'tis a glorious sight to behold.
But little did Luna know what gastro based horrors would echo their eldritch wails on the third night after her return
And now Equestria is bankrupt, and the Royal Exchequer is having either a heart attack or is being charged off in a straight jacket.. XD
11402923 And worse, they're siblings. (I just talked to my brother for the first time in about two years. We don't dislike each other, and we live like ten miles apart, but we just never get around to it.)
11402971 Yeah, but when it's a child without a cutie mark, the last half of that sentence is "...into disaster. Repeatedly."
11403137 Many people talk *at* each other for years.
11402932 11403019 11403462 For the children in the audience, I'm going to define something you may not be familiar with. The Rule of 72.
In short, 72 is a magic number that tells you how long it takes to double your savings (or debt) depending on the interest rate you are paying/getting charged. Divide that into 72 and you have the number of periods it takes to double your money, so if you are earning 6% interest yearly, that comes out to 12 years to double your money. 8% interest doubles it ever 9 years. 2% doubles it only every 36 years. After a thousand years, well suffice it to say if your bank needs to use exponential notation to calculate your savings account....
I think Celestia might have a little something to say about that much cash leaving the royal treasury. Lol.