Nine Hundred Years of Longing

by jphenix

Day Thirty Thousand Six Hundred Sixty One

“The dark one is gone. We attack now, storm the castle, and destroy the abomination,” ordered the General of Fort Daybreaker.

Light gleamed off the scimitar at their side, black rippling through the cruel bronze. They surveyed the battlefield beyond the high walls one final time. Stubby mounds rose and fell across the windswept badlands; unseen sorcerers rolled sand clouds off the barren dunes. The heat shimmer from the blazing sun made monstrous shapes take form in the dust: tawny manticores, ashy basilisks, and beige tatzlwurms withered and coiled. Looming above the haze was the mountain of power. There on its sun-bleached and chalky surface they would meet their fate. Either the crown would be sundered, or they would be.

“But sir,” appealed the Lieutenant, “we can’t attack directly… their spellcasters… their archers… hundreds will die.”

“Thousands,” corrected the General gruffly.

The parapet they stood upon darkened slightly; a shadow soared above them, perhaps from a great eagle. The General took that as an auspicious sign.

“ATTACK!”

With the swords of a million warriors at their back, they trampled over the walls of the fort. General and Lieutenant charged through the wastes, tendrils of fine powder rose behind them. Adrenaline pumped through their legs, which was sure to carry them to victory. Within a stone's throw of the mountain, their conquest turned to catastrophe.

Two amethysts appeared suddenly at the foot of the rocky base. Unnaturally large gemstones swiveled to peer at the invading army. Earth rumbled, ridges splintered, cliffs twisted and popped when the mountain moved. As it moved, it grew; higher and higher it rose, nearly eclipsing the very sun. Twin protrusions emerged from behind the towering mountain, overflowing with massive barbs of pale flint.

The General and Lieutenant skidded to a stop beneath the moving mountain of doom. Hooves dug deep into the coarse earth; a good start on the graves they were about to require.

“RETREAT!”

Ever loyal, the Lieutenant whirled to follow the General’s command. Yet, it was too late for them both. Untold feathery arrows descended on the army; white tips caught the sunlight at the right angle and shined like a thousand deadly will-o'-wisps. Where they landed, there were no standing survivors.

The fillies squealed as their mother tickled them.

“This is for not listening to each other. This is for not working together,” Celestia grinned. Her youngest was laughing and squirming in the sand as the primaries played off her cute lavender belly. Next to her, white feathers danced around the flailing amber legs of her oldest, before diving back in.

“And this is for calling me an abomination… although I commend the use of your vocabulary.”

The howling amber filly fought off the feathers long enough to open her mouth and take a large breath, whatever she planned on yelling was cut off by the clump of sand-covered mane she accidentally inhaled. The feathers halted and hung above the huffing fillies, looking like a thousand colorless leaves growing from a cloud canopy.

Her oldest daughter lifted her head and coughed out a lock of hair as red as her face. “You heard that!? How!?” she demanded, incensed. A single scarlet curl fell back into place between livid cyan eyes.

Celestia sat down, retracting her wings in bafflement. “Sunset, sweetie,” she thrust a hoof at Fort Daybreaker.

The curtain wall of the mighty citadel collapsed as if by sheer force of the point. Sand sung as the powerful drum tower crumpled without its supports. Its twin warbled and wobbled frantically until the weight sticking out of the top brought it fully down. The small plastic green shovel fell to the ground with a low plop. Celestia heard all this over the hum of the waves and the distant beachgoers, because the aspiring crownbreakers had erected their sandcastle… four yards away.

Sunset’s ears folded back at the sight of her closeby, and now demolished, fort. “Right,” she said sheepishly.

Celestia leaned down. “Next time you plot regicide try to whisper, '' she whispered. “Oh, and don’t shout ‘attack’ when making your move. It kind of takes the ‘surprise’ out of a ‘surprise attack’.”

She picked up the swords her would-be usurpers had brandished in their foolhardy assault. Gold light surrounded the wooden butter knives as they were levitated to the open basket resting on its red towel. A white seagull with gray in its wings had landed to investigate the uncovered contents; she shooed it away before putting the knives back in their place. They were set down next to the other utensils, a large bottle of sunscreen, bag of fruit snacks, and the remnants of the afternoon lunch. She closed the lid.

Her youngest sat up, the raspberry and purple stripes in her dark sapphire hair were flecked with brown grains. She shook the sand out of her mane and tail, angrily. “I told you!” Twilight shouted at Sunset, wings flaring.

Sunset stood up, growling, half an inch taller than her sister. Her wings fluttered furiously. “Did not!”

“Did so!” said Twilight.

“Don’t talk that way to a superior officer!” commanded Sunset.

“Well, excuuuse meee, General Shimmer!” Twilight responded boldly. “General Plothead more like,” she muttered.

“Don’t call me a plothead, you dillweed!” Sunset countered.

“You’re the dillweed!” Twilight shot back.

Celestia made a mental note to look up what “dillweed” meant later. First… The shadow that fell across the bickering fillies was long and heavy. Sweat formed on their brows despite the shade. They lapsed into silence, as their ears flattened on instinct and fur stood on end. Both timidly looked up to Mother Sun.

“Girls,” Celestia said sternly. “What did we tell you about arguing?”

The sand around their hooves suddenly appeared quite attractive. “If we’re going to argue, be respectful,” Sunset recited, head down. “And no name-calling,” Twilight finished.

“Sorry Mother,” they said in unison.

Celestia wasn’t through yet. “Good, and don’t you have somecreature else to apologize to?” she prompted.

Sunset turned first, resigned to the fact that her longest streak of not getting in trouble had been broken. It had been a really strong three days too, Celestia observed. “I’m sorry for calling you a dillweed, Sparks,” Sunset conceded.

Twilight looked up at her, eyes defiant. “Well, I’m sorry your leadership was wretched, your plan was ill-advised, and the only strategy you had amounted to nothing but a tactical blunder… General, sir,” she closed with a half-bow.

Celestia’s mouth twitched. With great effort, she swallowed the laugh building in her throat. The dictionary Twilight asked for over the summer seems to have made its way from her hooves to her mouth. Sunset sucked in air again, face crimson with rage, there was nothing to stop her shout this time.

“Oh good, I didn’t miss the second round of fighting. Or is this the third?” Luna asked.

Her wide brim hat matched the sands she stood upon. Silver ribbon threaded through the braid that fell to her withers, complementing the simple choker on her neck. A streak of white sunscreen was visible on the bridge of her muzzle, resting on an amused face. The smile she wore was bright in the light of the late day sun.

Sunset huffed at her sister and marched purposefully towards her mom. “Empress Luna,” she saluted. Luna’s brow quirked up. “General Sunset Shimmer requesting to have Lieutenant Twilight Sparkle imprisoned in Tartarus forever.”

Luna doffed the sun hat, giving her daughter a thoughtful look, cyan met cyan. “On what charges, Commander?”

“Gross insubordination,” Sunset snarled.

The newly installed empress put a hoof to her chin, thinking deeply.

“Mom!” Twilight implored.

Luna ignored the pleas of the accused. “It would save us a lot on the cost of books,” she thought out loud.

“Luna!” Celestia chided.

Luna laughed. “Request denied, General”. She cracked a smirk at Sunset and mouthed, “for now.” Sunset said nothing, but her smug smile spoke volumes.

Twilight stomped her hooves and tramped over to Celestia, indignant. She fell back into her mother's comfy thigh and slid down, legs firmly crossed. “Mother likes that I read,” she pouted.

Hooves massaged the bridge of Celestia’s nose, right between her eyes, holding the headache at bay. How did I end up with three children? she wondered. Her ear perked up at the kiss from her wife. Celestia opened her eyes to see Luna nuzzling Twilight. "We all love your reading my twinkling star.” The peck on the lavender forehead, right under the horn, did nothing to upend the frown on the filly's face.

Luna’s lower lip quivered, her expression apologetic. "Alright, to truly repay this terrible injustice done to you, what do you say we finish reading the final chapters of Chalice Quest tonight?”

Twilight eyed her mom tentatively. “No matter how long it takes?”

“I won’t fall asleep, if you don’t.”

Her face lit up like the stars that would soon emerge; all signs of distress, gone. She sprang forward, wings shaking, hips jiggling, and bouncing on the tips of her hooves. “Yes!” she exclaimed.

Sunset appeared beside her mom, scoffing at the display of excitement. A dark wing ruffled her mane, sending the last remaining kernels of sand to the ground. “Oh, what’s that Miss 'I’m Too Old To Be Read To'? Yet, whose head do I always see peeking out from behind the door frame, hmm?” Sunset had the good grace to look bashful. Twilight snickered. Luna scooped one up with a wing and the other with her foreleg, hugging their girls tightly to her chest. Muffled giggles were heard as they snuggled into the warm fluff.

Celestia checked the sun. It was a good way on its descent to the horizon. Oranges deepened and blues darkened in the sky around it. The few cumulus clouds out had begun to be filled in; the gray splotches inside them leaving only the top edges in white. Small bluish green waves washed onto the shore, white foam prominent in the receding dayglow.

She turned back to see Luna release the fillies onto the beach. “Girls,” she said leaning in, “we have some time left. Why don’t you finish playing before we pack up and head to the pier?”

“I passed by a snow cone vendor,” Luna supplied. “After you’re done, we can stop there on the way to the fireworks.” The girls high-fived.

"Alright! Now it’s my time to choose the game,” Twilight remarked.

“Is not!” Sunset retorted. Oh dear.

“Is so! You swore after we played soldiers, that it was my turn. You said, ‘Cross my heart and hope to die, may a phoenix never fly’.” Twilight reminded her.

Sunset screwed up her face, struggling to find a way to break the promise without cursing herself or her avian friend. “Fine,” she said, defeated. “But when we’re married I get to choose all the games, because I’m the oldest,” she added haughtily.

“That’s not fair-”

“Married?” Luna’s voice was low and bewildered, but cut through every other sound. She strode around the girls to sit alongside her wife. “You two are thinking about getting married?”

The fillies eyed each other. Uncertain cyan spoke silently to anxious purple. “Aren’t you going to make us get married?” asked Sunset hesitantly.

“What!?” the mothers cried in sync. “What in the world gave you that idea?” probed Celestia.

Sunset took a small step forward, hoof fussing with the sand. “Well, it was about a month ago. I was wandering the halls during class and overheard somecreature say Mother’s name in a room-”

“Why weren’t you in class?” she questioned. Luna waved her off and encouraged Sunset to continue.

“It was Duke Roseblood and Lord Saffron talking about all of us. Roseblood was angry his son would never get to sit the throne, ‘when the ruddy heirs marry each other.’ Saffron said if they buy the Landsmot they could force the crown to do what they want.”

“Did they say anything else?” Celestia inquired.

“Why? Do you need more evidence?” Luna fumed. “Don’t bother there won’t be any juries where I send them.” Celestia silenced her wife with a look.

“Umm, they mentioned a buckball game. Then they talked about the new teacher, Ms. Harshwhinny. They said she had something sweet under her skirt, but I was confused because she keeps the candy on her desk. Roseblood said, ‘I bet she’d whinny harsh if I lick-”

“Okay, so they said the word ‘marry’! How’d that lead to us forcing you two to wed?” Celestia hastily interjected.

Twilight stepped forward. “Oh well, Sunset told me, and after we couldn’t find anything on hidden skirt pockets for candy, I looked up royal marriages. Royals made their children get married all the time, to end wars, or trade land, or keep the throne in the family. We’re not at war, and we don’t need land, so the only logical answer was-”

“To keep the throne with the family,” Celestia concluded.

Luna cut straight to the core of the issue. “Girls, we are never going to make you marry each other… or any other creature for that matter.”

“Really?” asked Twilight.

“Yes. First, you are far too young to concern yourselves with marriage. Second, all those things you read about were done in the past. Those laws and traditions were torn down ages and ages ago. Your mother and I certainly aren’t going to continue them,” Luna explained.

Celestia went down to their eye level. “We spent a long time building an Equestria of acceptance, where any adult creature can fall in love with, and marry, one another.” She nuzzled Sunset. “Or, never worry about getting married at all,” she said nuzzling Twilight.

The sisters looked immensely relieved. “That’s great. I love Sparks, but I don’t want to marry her. If we share a room, what would I do with all my toys and her books?” Sunset put forward, asking the important question. “Yea,” Twilight picked up, “and Philomena’s snores would wake Owlowiscious, so it could never ever work.” They nodded in vigorous agreement.

Luna chuckled, “good to settle all of that.” She adopted a serious expression, “unfortunately, there is one ancient law royals must follow.” She stepped between them and Celestia, bending down; an amber and lavender ear each rose as she whispered to them. The ears fell as Luna backed up and gave them one grave nod. Celestia tilted her head, distracted by the girls’ moping faces and tearful eyes. Luna struck without warning, silent as a viper.

Celestia found herself tackled onto her back among soft sand, held down by two strong hooves. “The Law of Surprise!” Luna roared triumphantly. “Get her girls!” Sand crunched underneath small hooves. The first sign of trouble for Celestia was the sensation of tiny wings gliding over her sides.

“NoNoooHAHA!”

The second sign was the tyrannical grin Luna gave. “Girls,” she sang.

“Don’t you dare-”

“She’s really ticklish at the elbow joints.”

Celestia tried to wiggle out of the grasp, but to no avail. She kept her forelegs firmly tucked to her sides, in the hopes of avoiding the feathers of the little adorable demons sent after her. It failed spectacularly.

“HAHaaaStopHAIamyourquuuuuuuHAeen”

“And we’re the princesses of the universe!” Luna chanted.

There was only one thing Celestia could do against such overwhelming odds. “I surrender!” she blurted out. Her chest rose and fell as the tickling subsided. She breathed in deeply, only for the air to be shot out rapidly.

“Victory!” Sunset and Twilight declared, gloating on top of their mother’s chest. A dark blue wing smothered the girls, preventing them from tap-dancing on her heart.

She knelt down beside her.

“Hey you,” said the moon above.

“Hey you,” replied the sun below.

Their kiss was warm and dusk and dawn and happy. They pressed their foreheads together, smiling. Tap tap tap tap drummed their horns playfully striking each other.

Two heads emerged from the feathery depths of the wing.

“Blegh,” said Sunset, upon seeing their parents.

“Ugh,” agreed Twilight.

The fillies swam out of the downy ocean and hopped onto the sands, leaving their mothers to their laughter and their love. “Okay Sparks, what’s the plan?” Sunset asked.

“That’s Captain Starbeard to you, First Mate Clovis the Red! And we’re going to be sailing the dark and briny seas for treasure!” Twilight hoisted her hoof high into the air.

“The Red?” Sunset’s face fell further. “Aww, and last time we were pirates we got scurvy.”

Twilight grinned, her horn glowing magenta; the lid of the nearby basket opened and a bag levitated out. “Not today, I packed orange slices!”

Sunset beamed at the treats, tail wagging. “Aho Captain!” The two fillies ran off to go play in the shallows.

Their shouts and splashing attracted some attention. A kirin colt strode forward confidently, tan scales glistening over cinnamon fur. Twilight smiled at him, an orange rind covering her teeth. He jumped back at the abrupt sight, a puff of smoke rising from his ivy mane, before he guffawed. Behind the smoke came a khaki white-spotted fawn on spindly legs. The deerkin's shaking stopped at Sunset's grin, and she gladly took the fruit slice given to her. Sand quivered as the large red calf came bounding towards them. They paused a heartbeat before bowling into everycreature, and delicately bent down to receive the snack offered by Twilight. A seagull landed next to Sunset, black coat glossy and green wings phosphorescent, pecking at the slice in her cyan magic. Sunset snatched the gull in her hooves, ignored the flames that surrounded it, and hugged the changeling nymph tighter. Their compound peach eyes shone and arctic blue carapace sparkled as they hugged back. Lastly, the baby dragon waddled his chubby legs through the shallows to the group; purple scales and emerald spikes dazzling in the daylight. He sniffed the orange slice presented to him curiously, and with too much zeal. It lodged up one nostril, only to be sneezed out a second later half-charred and smoking. The dusky air rang with mirth and friendship, and the wind carried the joyous laughter of two alicorn fillies, the daughters of Night and Day.

Comments

[Stet709]

Aww, that was cute. Why bother with wedding mortals when you can wed your immortal sister?