A Lot to Think About

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A Lot to Think About

Jeffrey C. Wells

I approach the boudoir just as the remaining Bearers are leaving it, speaking amongst themselves in hushed tones. Even the irrepressible Pinkie Pie has lowered her voice to something approximating the level of normal conversation, and she bounces only half as high. They bow before me in deference as I approach, parting before me like so much water.

They need not do such a thing, I think to myself, as guilt claws afresh at my stomach. They are at their hearts a baker, a fashionista, an orchardmare, a weatherpony and a custodian of helpless animals; but they have saved our land, my land, the object of my fiercest love, over and over again. If anything, I should abase myself at their hooves, weeping in gratitude at their having pulled my nation away from the fire time after time after time.

But... that would not be seemly, or wise. Over my many years of life I have tried so many different approaches, when dealing with my subjects. There was a time in the three hundreds where I declared myself "The Commoners' Princess," if you will believe such a thing. Canterlot had lost touch with the ponies it ruled over, I decided, and so I cast off my regalia and really got my hooves in the dirt, working the harvest side-by-side with the earth ponies of the Heartland in the fertile lands abutting the Canter.

This lasted for two decades. As it turns out, I am a terrible farmer. Who could have guessed? My alicorn status ostensibly gives me the land-magic of the earth ponies on top of my unicorn horn and my pegasus wings, but while it manifests quite clearly in my legendary stamina (and, I will admit, in the broadness of my rear), the actual raising of living things quite escapes me. I do not, in short, have a green hoof. Atop my raw incompetence, I hindered the work of others more expert than myself by the simple act of putting myself at their level. Any job attempted by H.R.H. Celestia in her ridiculous dungarees and her ridiculous straw hat was absolutely guaranteed to be a botched one, not only because I myself would be right there doing the botching, but also because nopony would dare step in to correct my work. When I finally came to my senses and left them all alone to do their jobs, you could hear the collective sigh of relief all the way up the Mountain.

No, this is my position, for better or for worse. To be enormous, and wise, and well above everypony else. To orchestrate great events and conflicts from atop my all-seeing Throne.

Today has proven it, yet again. I should never be put personally in charge of any living thing.

"Good day, my little ponies," I say, addressing them as I might a class of schoolfillies. It is all I can do to keep from choking on the tone of voice I am forced to use. I use it anyway, because I see in these girls the forms of many other ponies now long dust, and I know in my heart that the alternative would eventually prove far too upsetting for everypony. Even if they do not know it, they need me to be this way.

"Afternoon, Yer Highness," says Applejack, she of Honesty, her hat in her hoof. The others chime in as well.

"How fares my niece?"

"As well as can be expected," says Rarity. "She's been an absolute darling in these trying times. Honestly, I have no idea what's come over poor Twilight."

"Another mental breakdown," answers Rainbow Dash. "Duh," she adds.

"Spike went back to look for her in the wedding chapel," volunteers Fluttershy, timidly. "But she was already gone. I can't imagine how scared she must be. I hope she and Princess Mi Amore Cadenza can make friends again before the wedding."

"Twilight Sparkle will be all right," I say, trying to hit just the right note of easy confidence in my student while simultaneously attempting to not seem dismissive of Fluttershy's concern. Even the act of speaking a simple sentence is like walking a high-wire in my position. "I've known your friend since she was very young, and sometimes she needs to take a little time for herself in stressful situations." I have, but do not voice, recollections of an endless series of book-forts with signs crudely emblazoned with the words "Twilight Sparkle Is Not Here Right Now So Please Come Back Another Time" hung out front. It would be counterproductive to mention them at this point, I judge.

"I hope so," says Pinkie Pie. "My Pinkie Sense is really acting up today. It's like I've got twitches in my nose and flutters in my knee and I can't remember anything like this ever happening before! I've even got the tonsil-shakes! I didn't even know it was possible to get tonsil-shakes!" Pinkie opens her mouth as wide as possible—very wide indeed, given the pony in question—to demonstrate the problematic areas of her body.

"Very interesting," I say, to the Bearer of Laughter, wishing that I had any kind of precedent to judge her by. "Do you think Princess Cadance might be willing to receive me? I would like to have a word with her."

"She's recoverin' well," says Applejack. "She sent Cap'n Armor off to do his thing a while back, so I think she'll be all right." She chuckles, a bit ruefully. "Real honest-to-gosh Royal Wedding Drama. Who'da thunk?"

"Little hitches are bound to come up in matters of this scale, Applejack," says Rarity. "If this is the worst thing that happens today, we should count ourselves lucky."

The others murmur their agreement and continue on their way. They've all got jobs to do in preparation for this momentous occasion. Jobs that I assigned them. Jobs that they did willingly, and absolutely without question, as pawns in Celestia's great game of What's Best For The Land.

And here in the room before me, yet another of my game-pieces. I take a deep breath, ignite my horn, and push open the door to my adoptive niece's impromptu boudoir.

The room beyond is pink, cluttered and baroque. Stylized hearts dominate the décor. Resting easily on a fainting-couch of violet satin and rosewood, framed by lamps of colorful Symphony glass, is Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, lost heir to an unknown empire that senior members of the castle guard had come to jokingly refer to simply as "It," back when there was some hope that It would someday return and give my ever-questing niece a place to call home. Cadance's eyes are still a bit red from the tears, but I do not believe I have ever seen her so beautiful. Then again, it has been years since we've even spoken. There is still some bitterness remaining from my fumbling attempts to serve as her parent, to be sure. As noted, I should never be given such responsibility.

"Aunty," she says, rising to greet me.

I wave her off with one hoof. "Please, sit," I say, and she returns to a position of repose. "I shan't take too much of your time."

"How's Twilight doing?" she asks.

I shake my head. "I've not seen her."

Cadance frowns. "I was so sure she'd have gone to you," she says. "Given the very special relationship you two have. I'm really concerned about her, Aunty."

"This wedding represents some big changes for young Miss Sparkle. I'm certain she'll be fine." I can barely form the lie. I had once thought that Twilight was my one success, finally. Her role in the absolution of my sister Luna had seemed to prove this, beyond any shadow of doubt. The road ahead had seemed so clear...

...And then, my faithful student proceeded to ensorcell her entire town with a "Want It, Need It" spell in some sort of neurotic fit based around the simple matter of a missed homework assignment. My faith in the future was, again, shattered. If Twilight Sparkle was not able to brook the simple fact of her brother's marriage (to a foalhood friend, no less!) how could she possibly be expected to endure the other... changes planned for her? Had I guessed wrong? Yet again?

"Aunty?" says Cadance, sensing my drift into reverie.

"Yes," I say, reining myself back to the present. "Yes, I apologize, Mi Amore. Lately, I've had... a lot to think about."

Cadance scoots slightly over on the fainting-couch and pats the spot next to her. She smiles gently at me. For a moment I hesitate; but if I cannot relate as an equal at least to Cadance, the third Alicorn Princess of Equestria, whom can I hope to relate to? The couch would hardly be big enough for my own personal bulk were I seated on it alone, but we make do with a bit of twisting and folding of limbs.

She looks at me expectantly, and I quail. I have stood at the head of armies and faced down walls of gryphon soldiers extending in either direction literally as far as the eye could see, yet I have never felt this sort of fear.

"Cadance," I say, my voice threatening to crack. "I wanted to tell you that I'm so very proud of you."

She smiles, her eyes glowing. "Thank you, Aunty!" she says, lightly, and it's not how I want her to take it. I shake my head.

"No," I say. "Please. This isn't a facile little compliment for you to accept with a smile on your face. I've wronged you. I've done you damage. I sent you into a political situation in Cloudsdale that I knew was unstable, and I told myself it was because you asked me to. But... in reality, I knew you would be there when we finally brought Cloudsdale into the Hegemony. When we finally nationalized the weather industry. These things needed to happen for the good of the land, and I knew you were the one who could do them for me. But I also want you to know that I do realize that I hurt you deeply in doing so, deeply enough that you felt you had to run from me and from the world back to your fillyhood home. It's been so long, Mi Amore. I look at you, and I feel like I hardly know you."

Cadance puts her hoof on my shoulder, comfortingly. I give her a wan smile. "Would you believe that I didn't even properly remember the color of your aura?" I say. "I could have sworn it was teal, like your Mark, not green. You've become a stranger to me, Cadance. And I've deserved every inch of that estrangement."

"Oh, Aunty!" she says, laughing. "Don't be that way!"

I shake my head. It has taken me too long to come to this confession and I will not be so easily dissuaded. "No," I say. "Please, Cadance. Let me say this. After realizing I had completely misread your destiny, I took on a student in the hopes that she would take over your part in the coming absolution of Luna. She was a beautiful, special creature with a mind like a diamond. There were no filial bonds to complicate our relationship. I vowed that I would do everything better than I had done with you, that I would put aside the role of chessmistress, that I would be open and honest and forthright about every topic at my disposal. I told Sunset Shimmer everything: that she was a child of prophecy, a special unicorn among special unicorns, that she would stand at my side at the most important event of my life."

I swallow, hard. "My truthfulness earned me a student so sure of her own self-importance that she would not hear any ideas of reason or temperance. When I opposed her unchecked ambition, she literally built another world out of whole cloth to rule over and closed the door behind herself, and she was lost to me as well.

"So I returned to my enigmatic role, disguising my intentions and nudging in secret. I took on another student, the most promising one yet. Finally, I had found a young mare who was possessed of both power and heart, and who needed just a few little touches to guide her along her path to greatness. It turns out that in doing so I have changed that special young filly into an eccentric wreck of a mare who would rather lay waste to a town than risk displeasing me, and who would ruin your wedding just because she could not bear a disruption of her status quo."

I clench the muscles of my jaw to keep it from shaking. "I have failed each and every one of you," I say. "Completely. Sunset Shimmer is gone, and I'm not sure I can summon the nerve to apologize to Twilight; I'm not certain it would be good for Equestria, even if I could. But to you, at least, I feel I can say that... I'm sorry."

I breathe an easier breath, the tension in my breast finally dissipating. "Everything you have done is because of you, and in spite of me. Me and all my silly errors in judgment."

"Oh, Aunty," says Cadance. "I can't think of a single error in judgment you've made."

"Thank you," I say. "Probably more kindness than I deserve, but still, it means much to hear you say that."

I give her a warm smile. "I know today is a special day for you, Mi Amore. But with the shadows of unknown threat to the city and martial law hanging over all our heads, it hardly seems like a fit wedding day for a young princess I hold close to my heart. And now this business with my faithful student... well, I can only assure you she means well. I am certain this storm will pass soon, and that you two will become the best of friends, in the fullness of time. I just wanted you to know that any hurt she may have caused you comes more from the failings of the silly old mare who styles herself as Twilight's teacher than from Twilight herself."

"Apology accepted," says Cadance.

We share a breath. It feels good.

"Don't worry, Aunty," she continues. "I'm sure today is going to be perfect."