The reformed Luna stands strong among trusted fellows that laugh, and grow, and bleed alongside her. They are all flawed, and they are all hopeful, but they are equal. They are Paladins: One path. One destiny. One whole heap of trouble for Luna.
"Return rainwater to a cloud and it will fall again soon enough." —Luna
After her redemption, Luna sought solitude from all ponies, including the twenty four elite guards assigned to serve her. But seven of those guards were not so easily dissuaded and sought the errant princess out, beseeching her to accept their pledges of unwavering fealty. They succeeded, and discovered her a scarred shadow of her former self, stripped of all thoughts and memories that might lead back to Nightmare Moon by the very magic that saved her.
Now, the princess stands strong in the company of trusted fellows that laugh, and grow, and bleed alongside her. They are all flawed, and they are all hopeful, but above all else, they are all equal. They are guards no longer. They are Paladins. One path. One destiny. One whole heap of trouble for Luna.
I might be watching the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and by tomorrow I’ll probably be disgusted at myself for even thinking it.
It’s funny what makes you look back at your life. Before this year, I could never have guessed that I’d be standing beside Princess Celestia watching a sunset that’ll touch poets so deeply it’ll give ’em the trots. Since her sister came back, she’s put hours into the last sunset of every week, and I hadn’t even noticed until now.
I guess that’s me all over. You wouldn’t think a scrapper like me would fall in with a ponies like these, but I remember the day I arrived in Canterlot to try out for Luna’s groupies. Thunderer, the big guy, lines us all up and starts dishing out trivial, inane, and demeaning tasks like we were training to be lapdogs. I figured it was some loyalty test or other – find out if we were willing to put the good of the team above our individual blushes. As soon as I was knee-deep in mud I remembered that I was here because I’d punched out my supervisor for back talking me and wanted something different. I let the boss-pony have an earful right then and there. I mean, why not? If was to fail, I might as well add a personal touch to it.
They hired me on the spot. These ponies are crazy.
Turned out, they wanted a pony who would stand up for herself, even against a princess. ‘Serve in Luna’s retinue’, they said. ‘Bring justice to Equestria’, they said.
‘Babysit a princess with thousand-year-old emotional issues’ wasn’t in the brochure. Good job, too, or I might have refused.
Of course, we were just Luna’s rag-tag bunch of troublemakers back then, but now, we’re the Paladins: Luna’s more reputable bunch of troublemakers.
I… this really is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. It’s like… like one of those expensive cocktails that’s layered in five different colours, only I get to stare into it while it’s warming the back of my throat. And my belly. And the backs of my eyes. This thing is…
So, Paladins. Who’d have thought that? It sounds so officious and noble until you’ve seen us trying to play charades after Luna stacked the deck with such marvels as ‘My hooves smell like dead fish’ and ‘Spank me like you mean it’.
And then there was that time we had to introduce the ‘no shapeshifting’ rule during wrestling. The others have formal training, so it was tough going. Luna probably worried that I was feeling picked on, so she joined in; she can be such a sap when she isn’t pretending not to be, and she didn’t get that I enjoy the challenge, either. She’s also not half as strong or clever as she thinks she is, and promptly lost to all but Vanilla, but I reckon he let her win.
Next thing you know she’s a giant black bear and pinning all of the boys to the ground, only it’s not so much wrestling and just sitting. Luckily it also turns out that Luna’s ticklish.
Never again – that’s best for everypony involved.
Paladins: a bunch of degenerates whose sole function is to never take Luna too seriously. Well, yeah, there is that thing about carrying the authority of the Princess wherever we go, but it’s not like we’d ever abuse that... much.
Good bunch of lads, but me? How’d I get to be standing here on Celestia’s balcony watching more shades of red, orange, and purple than I can name spread through the heavens like an oil painting that just can’t quite settle on exactly what perfection is?
Wow. I didn’t even know I could think like that. It seems I’m in good company, though: Celestia is getting a bit weepy herself. No chance of anyone catching me doing that.
She’s an odd one though, Celestia. At first, she was disappointing. To regular ponies, she’s as much myth as flesh-and-blood creature, but she can be a bit twee, if you’re not the kind of pony into hugs, bubblebaths, and talking about… feelings. She’s got a hard edge when she needs it, sure, but it’s not like she’d ever threaten anypony over the last slice of Battenberg. Not like Luna. Luna plays hardball most of the time, and sometimes she gets it wrong – she’s one of us. Truth is, Celestia just has patience. I am never going to forget that time we tried the old ‘magic bubblebath’ gag, and for at least thirty seconds, we thought we’d poisoned the whole wing.
I panicked like a little filly when everypony started coughing and gaging, but the look of relief on Vanilla’s face when Celestia’s staff finally quit playing dead and burst into laughter was priceless.
She’s not a prankster; she’s a counter-prankster. And she should definitely come with a warning label. Or a restraining order.
Sadly, her copper-tops have less imagination. Four guards, three reels of duct tape, and a flag pole: anyone can do that math. Totally worth it, though.
Yeah. Worth it. Worth it all, to be here now. Shoulder to shoulder with Miss Squeaky Clean, as...
By all the old gods, the moon is coming up at the same time. I don’t believe it. The sun’s not even halfway behind the horizon and the moon is creeping up to greet it. The light’s fading fast. The sun’s corona… like an aurora of dying flames reaching around the moon and—
Wait. When did I start using words like aurora? And why am I thinking about how good Celestia looks in this light? This sunset is messing with my brain!
La la la la la la. Think of something else. Think of something else.
Oh. Heh. Silverlight, you teacher of words that I will never admit to knowing. I remember discovering that you have the biggest crush on Twilight Sparkle. I snuck into your room and painted one whole wall as a mural to your beloved doe-eyed mistress while Vindicator and Glory dressed up as you and her to play at making out before your eyes, ice-cream cones taped to their heads and everything. Ha! Glory sucked that cone off like it was—
Nononono… Not thinking about that! Also not thinking about the things I could do to that guy watching from his roof – or what he could do to me. No! Not thinking about that! If I can just get through this without crying, my image will be intact...
Finally it’s gone dark. The last hint of soft, warming reds fade into a deepening purple as the last of the sun’s rays vanish and the moon picks up its pace. Almost immediately, I feel the first chill of night rustling my mane, and I look up to check on Celestia. Glazed eyes, tear-stains, distant wisp of a smile: you can tell she’s thinking about Luna. That’s how it works in these parts.
She doesn’t show it much, but it’s nice to see. They’re not quite as chummy as some ponies think, but now and again, it’s clear just how deeply connected to they are. If Luna could see this—
Ahh, crap. Luna.
On cue, the doors to the balcony burst open with enough concussive force to send them flying off into the streets below were it not for Luna’s magical grip.
The Princess of the Night surges forwards, dressed in a shirt with ‘I WRESTLE BEARS’ emblazoned on the front, raises herself up on her hind legs, points an unshod hoof at her sister, and proclaims, “On your face, Celelstia!”
Oh yeah. Princess Luna is an idiot.
“In your face,” I say, not restraining my irritation. “You throw something in another pony’s face. We practiced this for half an hour!”
Honestly, you can’t give them so much as an inch.
“Ahh. We appear to have ruined the moment. Your modern colloquialisms are most troublesome.” Luna frowns hard, and makes what I can only describe as ‘duckface’.
I have no idea what that’s about.
“Go out and do it again, and do it right this time.”
"Yes. Of course. One moment please.”
She steps back, and the moment the doors slam shut, I look up at Celestia. Her mouth is hanging slightly open – now that’s truly rare.
“Could I have a bucket of water, please?”
I’m not sure if she’s genuinely stunned, or three leagues ahead of me as usual, but the bucket appears out of thin air while she’s looking back at the doors in anticipation of their imminent re-explosion.
Boom!
“In your—”
And I unload the bucket of water, right in the kisser.
“Face,” I finish for her. “I have a thing and throw it in another pony’s face. Is that clear now?”
“Quite,” says Luna, dripping water onto the already drenched ground. Where her wetted mane now hangs heavily from her neck, a similarly damp animal now stands on its tiny back legs and shakes the water off itself.
“Ahh. I see you brought one of the accounting weasels. Nice touch.”
Luna smiles. She really has got the hang of keeping her composure.
“Thank you, Artemis. Now, if you’re quite finished, I would like to gloat at my sister.”
I shrink into a corner. I know when I’m at the limit of being indulged.
“Have we, or have we not, sister, bested thee as we proclaimed that we would? Was that not the most astounding sunset ever beheld by our beloved subjects?”
There’s a short pause – somewhat underlined by continued dripping and a tiny sneeze from Luna’s head-mounted weasel.
“Luna…”
Celestia’s actually stunned. Go Team Luna!
“Sister… How? How did you do that? In all my years, I have never seen such a thing. It was incredible, you… were amazing.”
“Huzzah! You hear that Cecil?” The weasel squeaked, then sneezed. “We are the victor! Cecil will facilitate your payment of our wager at your earliest convenience. Now, if you will excuse us. Artemis?”
“Yes, Drippy?”
“Run.”
And with that, I leap off the balcony. She’s in a good mood, so I reckon I’ll get a good thirty-second head start.
I lifted Cadance’s head just enough to slip a second pillow under it, then drew the bedsheet up and tucked it snugly under her chin.
She’d been so poised and controlled, walking back in from the balcony after enchanting Luna’s sunset, but the second her head hit the pillow, she slipped into dreamland. I pondered the stories about how she protected the Empire from Sombra for days without sleeping: that had to say volumes about the vast power she’d just expended. For me, it had been negligible: I was but a node through which Luna could connect to Princess Cadance.
My eyes wandered across the contours of the shallow-breathing Princess until I realised my impropriety. That sunset, it... did things. The window offered me a safe place to level my gaze; the moon still looked brighter, and perhaps a little larger, than usual. Whether that was an empirical fact or a side-effect of Cadance’s complex evocation was impossible to know.
After a long stare, I turned towards the room’s exit, but before taking a step, I instead leaned over the bed and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek. Just one day in her presence had taught me that she’d find my hesitation quaint – even comical. She was open, and emotional, in a way I found hard to be comfortable with.
“I’ll bet Luna will be by to say ‘thank you’ before the sun comes back up,” I said, and finally turned towards the doors to find Shining Armour standing there – and not looking pleased.
Think on your hooves, soldier! What would Vanilla say? Or Glory?
“It looks like I tired your wife out.” I smirked and made a casual gesture towards the Princess that came more naturally that I expected. Probably the sunset. It certainly didn’t feel much like me.
Shining Armour didn’t flinch.
Commit! Show no fear!
“For what it’s worth, she was phenomenal.”
I made for the door, dropping my head just enough to break eye contact and forcing a light chuckle. Even Celestia was amenable to some mild smut as long as long as it was reserved for an appropriate audience; I just had to carry it with the unabashed confidence of my peers.
I glanced back at Cadance to buy myself a little time, then looked up, staring point-blank into Shining Armour’s face. Rarely am I so glad of my taller, aristocratic stock.
I grinned.
So did he.
“So, the wet-behind-the-ears graduate from Celestia’s School finally grew a spine.” Shining Armour lifted a hoof and tapped me on the cheek. “About time, Silverlight. Come on, let’s leave her to sleep it off.”
I have no idea if he saw the tension suddenly work its way out of my musculature, but we walked into the corridor side by side and my ex-captain drew the doors shut behind us. We fell into military lock-step easily. I wasn’t sure if it was from nerves, or it was perfectly natural and I was overthinking it. The latter definitely sounded more like me.
“You know that was cheating, right?” he asked, shooting me an accusatory glance.
“Cheating?” I stopped, placed a hoof dramatically on my chest, and summoned my best rendition of Vanilla’s overly-offended oration. “Why I will have you know that the opposing team merely failed to properly explore the limitations of the rules.”
“Was Princess Celestia even aware that outside help was allowed?”
I smirked. “You might not be getting your new orphanage if she did. Besides, do you really think Celestia will mind? Luna will be revelling in her victory by now, Celestia will be enjoying Luna’s happiness, and ponies across Equestria will be cuddling up with their significant others.”
“And kissing other ponies’ wives.”
“Ahh, heh.” I cleared my throat. Twice. “You know that’s out of deepest respect, right?”
Shining Armour resumed his marching rhythm, and I fell back into lockstep, silent. As we descended a long staircase, he looked deep in thought, only speaking up after we’d turned into a new corridor.
“Yeah, I know, Silver. You were one of the most honourable ponies in the guard, but you used to carry it like a shield. It’s not that I don’t think you would do anything inappropriate with my wife, I don’t think you could.” We stopped in front of another set of double doors and Shining Armour hung a leg across my shoulders. “My baby sister, on the other hoof—”
“Woah, hold on there, Captain.”
“Does talking about Twily make you nervous?”
It always makes me nervous. I hate it. “When I’m standing next to her older brother who used to be my superior officer, and is married to a princess whose kingdom I’m standing in, yes, it really does.” Not to mention that my baser desires had been somewhat inflated by whatever enchantment Cadance had woven.
Shining Armour slapped me on the back and withdrew his hoof.
“That’s why I like you, Silverlight. You didn’t even think to deny it. Honourable to the core. But you can’t hold it against a big brother for keeping an eye out, so I figure I’ll just make you squirm for a bit and we’ll call it even. Okay?”
He pushed the door open. Inside, on what must have been the curved outer wall of the palace, was a double life-size mural of a grinning, bright-eyed Twilight Sparkle, overlooking a sumptuous guest room.
“Oh, you son of a—”
“Language!” Shining Armour gave me a playful shove. “You wouldn’t want to be heard talking like that when Twilight shows up, would you?”
“What? Twilight’s here?”
“Of course.” He looked at me with an insufferably smug, self-satisfied grin. “You have to understand, my phenomenal wife has a habit of matchmaking. But it’s okay. After all, you wouldn’t dream of doing anything inappropriate, right?”
I declined to answer. Incessant ribbing from my so-called comrades was one thing, but only Luna had gone so far as to intentionally place us in a room together – for a three-week project, no less. Until now. Lucky for me that Twilight seems oblivious to my discomfort. Thank the Princesses for small mercies. Thank Celestia, at least – the others were clearly out to embarrass me.
“Artemis,” I muttered, pushing the second door wide open. Slow-burning indignation fuelled my hoofsteps as I strode into the room, but I kept my face as calm as I could manage, lest Shining Armour find one bit more satisfaction than he already had. “Has to be Artemis. I swear by Star Swirl’s beard I am going to tie her wings together and shove her off a balcony as soon as I get back to Canterlot.”
Some days, I wished I were that kind of pony, but if I were, I wouldn’t have this life of mine. This Silverlight, the real one, was just going to have to suck it up and make do, as he always did. Some Paladin I am: I can stare down the worst of Luna’s tantrums, but one mare several years my junior makes my guts feel like pulped pumpkin.
“Prince Shining Armour,” boomed a voice that I knew all too well. “What in Tartaurus is this I hear about my own brother using me to make Silverlight uncomfortable? How dare you!”
“Twily, I—”
“Don’t you Twily me!” Twilight stormed straight up to Shining Armour and jabbed her nose up against his. “Please, for the love of Celestia, tell me it isn’t true.”
“It’s just—”
“I don’t believe this!” Twilight pushed past him and stomped into the room. “My own brother!”
Her horn lit and the doors slammed shut.
“Ow,” came a muffled voice outside.
Twilight turned instantly on her fetlocks and yelled at the door, “Well maybe you shouldn’t stick it where it doesn’t belong!”
I made a mental note to recite that line to Cadance, later. Meanwhile, Twilight stamped a hoof and snorted; I can’t deny she is still adorable when she’s trying to be angry.
“Well that was—”
“What?” Twilight spun in place to face me again before something clicked in her mind and all that furor disappeared in a literal blink. “Oh! I’m so sorry. I got a little carried away.”
“Unexpected,” I finished. She gave me that bashful grin of hers and for a moment I remembered why I feel the way I do: she’s so immature. It’s really a shame. Nevertheless, the pause allowed the tension in the atmosphere to dissipate, and when Twilight spoke, she sounded like her usual self again.
“So… umm, is it true?”
“Is what true?” I replied. I knew very well what, of course, but I’ve learned the hard way not to let conversations start with vagueries: Luna’s a sly old dog when she wants an excuse to play the victim. Plus, it pushed the answer I didn’t really want to give back by a few more seconds.
“Is it true that I make you uncomfortable? It’s just that Spike said—”
“Ahh,” I interrupted. Twilight immediately furrowed her brows; I was sure she didn’t understand the link. “Spike’s crush has been a touchy subject for him. It makes sense that he’d speak up if he thought somepony else’s was being treated disrespectfully.”
“You didn’t answer the question,” she replied bluntly. I was glad that our rapport hadn’t waned.
“Quite right.” I sucked down a deep breath. “Yes. It’s true. And my ever-helpful compatriots hold back very little when it comes to using it against me. It seems that your brother has now been added to the list of provocateurs – and possibly Princess Cadance.”
I’d hoped that Twilight would finally put two and two together, but she didn’t. Or at least, her thoughtful expression said that she was still mulling the puzzle over.
“Spike and I had some common ground to talk about whenever we took a break from studying,” I continued. “We talked about Rarity a lot, and how much it meant to him that she was taking his feelings seriously.”
“Yeah,” Twilight replied, nodding. “They’ve been spending so much time together lately; it’s like I barely talk to him at all. He seemed so much happier at first, but now... I don’t know.”
“Oh?” I should have just ended the game there and then, but the diversion was just too easy not to take. “Is the little guy feeling down?”
Twilight’s face scrunched up. Hard.
“I’m not sure. He seems so distant. I knew something was wrong the moment one of the staff told me you and Shiny were down here; he got all grouchy and I had to really push him to tell me what was up.”
“And you came down here to confront Shining Armour without really knowing what was ‘up’?” At that moment, I had a brainwave. “Maybe you could ask Spike to join us?”
“Do you think it will help?”
“He’ll talk.” I threw up a salute. “Paladin’s honour.”
She looked up, then teleported away. Another trick she could do that I couldn’t, even though I’d matched her test scores at Celestia’s school. I climbed onto the absurdly large bed and made myself comfortable, and the two of them poofed into existence just a few moments later. Sure enough, Spike looked like he carried the weight of the world on his little shoulders.
“Hey, Spike.”
“Hey, Silver.”
“Do I get a hug?”
His face brightened. I couldn’t help but think of Luna: she was exactly like a child in so many ways. For every thoughtless comment that hurt her, we had to get two dozen things right. We, the Paladins, had to be the ones to ask how she was feeling. We had to show her our vulnerabilities before she could be comfortable showing us hers. Get those things wrong and she could throw a tantrum like nopony would believe, but when we learned to get them right, she was out best friend, confidant, and greatest cheerleader all rolled into one. I never imagined her as broken, as some do, just as relearning it all over again – trying to be better.
Looking at Spike, I remember how weird it felt the first time I addressed the prickly topic of hugging princesses. If I asked if she wanted one, she might take it as an accusation of weakness, but if I asked if I could get one from her, she might think of it as making demands. I wound myself up so tight that Thunderer actually pulled me aside and had to talk me through it, but really he only told me to trust my instincts. The next day I just explained to Luna why it was troubling me and she completely understood. I think she was even fortified by my fretting.
Actual children are a cakewalk by comparison.
He dashed across the floor and up onto the bed, where I wrapped a leg around him and gave him a big squeeze.
“Now,” I said, releasing him. “What’s up?”
“I just thought… were they being mean to you, Silver?”
“Awww.” I ruffled his spines with a hoof. “Thanks for thinking about me, Spike. I appreciate that – I really do. They were, and I’m fine, thank you, but that isn’t what I was asking about.”
Spike’s shoulders slouched. He knew, all right.
“It’s nothing,” he said.
“That’s an awful lot of nothing you’re carrying, kid. Shall I ask Twilight to leave so the boys can talk alone?”
“No!” Spike’s reply was more than enthusiastic: it was almost desperate. “I mean, it’s just silly…”
“Silly? Or large, white, and Rarity-shaped?”
Spike’s habit of fiddling with his claws gave the game away immediately, but I held my tongue and waited for him to find his.
“It’s just…” His gaze lingered on Twilight’s face before he turned back to me. “What if… I don’t love her as much as I thought I did?”
“What?” Twilight said. “Spike, you’re—”
“Objection! The gallery not to badger the witness!” I waved my hoof at her like a proper lawyer. Her wrinkled nose, heavy frown, and pursed lips said that she didn’t like that one bit, but I wasn’t about to be moved on the subject. “Now, Spike, please continue. What makes you say that?”
Again, he took a long look at Twilight before he spoke.
“Well… I thought I wanted to be around her. Since she said she wasn’t going to leave me again, I kept asking for more and more time, and she always said yes. Well, almost always; if she couldn’t, she always explained why, and I didn’t mind. But lately… I keep thinking that I’d…”
I gently put a hoof on his back. he had that weight-of-the-world weariness to him again.
“Take your time, kid.”
“I keep thinking... I’d rather be with Twilight.”
I smiled. So did Twilight, naturally. It took me a few seconds to replay the conversation mentally and make the connection.
“So you think that wanting to spend more time with Twilight means you care about Rarity less?” Spike nodded.
“Well… yeah. Doesn’t it?”
“No way.” I exaggerated my pronunciation to make the point stick. “Listen. When my mother wants to embarrass me, she talks about how I used to insist on sleeping with her every night. I’d throw tantrums if I couldn’t feel her against me as I fell asleep. I was almost three before I would sleep on my own. I can still remember wanting to be more grown up. But I look back and see that, when the light went out, my mother was still in here.”
I tapped my chest, right over my heart.
“Rarity made you a promise, and you tested it. Sounds like it didn’t take you long to work out that she’d always be there for you. I suppose Rarity’s like your very own Paladin: she’ll always listen to you and support you, but only so long as you respect her in return. It’s just like Shining Armour had Princess Cadance pushing him on to become captain of the guard, and just like how Luna came by every other day while I was collaborating with Twilight, just to ask how I was feeling. We all need somepony – or dragon – that we trust, whether that’s a princess, a spouse, or a best friend. I bet if Rarity needed you, you’d be back at her side in a heartbeat.”
“Of course!”
I think Spike surprised himself with the intensity of his answer; the joy on his face flattened out as his mind turned inward.
“Spike, I think you love her more than ever. I think you’re just growing up; it happens to the best of us, I’m afraid. Now, Spike, meet Twilight Sparkle. Twilight, meet Spike the dragon. I think you two have some things to talk about, so I’ll excuse myself.”
I stepped off the bed and headed to the door while Twilight took my place and wrapped Spike in a big cuddle. It was always amazing how simple problems could be quickly solved just by talking things through. It just took a little practice and a bit of faith in one’s self.
“Oh, wait. Silverlight?” Twilight said.
I winced. I was already halfway out the door, but I backed up to look her in the eye.
“Yes, Twilight?”
“I don’t get it. Why did Luna come to see you while we were working together?”
I’d almost gotten away with it, but my old nemesis wasn’t so easily cast aside.
“Ahh… Well, I…” Suddenly, I had another brainwave. “You know, I think Spike can probably explain that best.” Spike would enjoy the chance to explain the situation as a third party, rather than the subject. It was also a fantastic dodge – something I could be ashamed and proud of in equal measure. “Enjoy!” I said, dipping through the door and shutting it behind me.
Trotting down the hall, I heard the shriek of ‘What?’ come from the room. I swallowed to clear the sudden dryness in my throat. There was no escaping that conversation now, but it could wait until tomorrow. No doubt Luna would rake me over the coals for that little maneuver, but sometimes it’s just nice to be reminded that she cares.
Out in the sticks, what I am might not mean as much, but in these walls I am untouchable by anypony other than the princesses themselves. As a guard, I was summoned before Princess Celestia plenty of times, but now, she ‘requests my counsel’.
I hope this feeling never gets old.
I passed by plenty of faces I knew well. Stopped to chat to a few, too, but mostly I just nod to show I remember. I was there once, and I respect every last one of them.
The newer recruits took a second to examine the icon on my official torque: a silver sword, hilt up, laid over a red heart and framed by black wings. Almost without exception, they snapped to attention like they were back in basic.
Part of me says I should put ‘em at ease – play the humble servant – but I won’t lie: I love it too much.
I earned this.
But I made a note of every face that showed good form. Maybe one day I’ll be bestowing this crest on one of them, so I remember. All that’s for another day, though.
I stopped at the large double doors to Celestia’s study. I always liked how well they symbolised her: larger than life, finely crafted and maintained, but ultimately functional and unassuming. That’s how I’ve always seen them anyway.
Knock three times, then push one door open. That’s the proper way. I marched stiffly into the room and offered an equally stiff salute. I don’t think anypony used to actually enjoy the parade ground as much as I did.
“Master Paladin Splashdown, reporting as requested, Ma’am!”
Celestia was stood before a large writing desk, with a quill hovering over a stack of paper. With a deep sigh, she set the quill down.
“There’s no need for that, Splashdown.”
“Absolutely not, Ma’am!”
“Could you at least lower your voice?”
She flashed me the tiniest hint of a smile, so I returned it in kind.
“Of course… Ma’am. You wanted to see me?”
“Yes, and you know very well why.” Celestia’s horn lit up again and a scroll unfurled on her desk. She skimmed over the writing with her eyes, but it was clear that she remembered what it said in minute detail. She always did. “I received a personal report from Sonata to say that everything is fine.”
“Yes, Ma’am. Absolutely peachy.”
“So, I am to believe that, on the same day as Luna goes to visit a class at my School for Gifted Unicorns, one of the senior staff who just happens to have history with my sister also just happens to send me a note out of the blue saying that everything is fine… and I am supposed to believe that everything is, as stated, absolutely fine?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
I gave her a wide grin. If she was truly worried, she’d let me know.
“I’ve asked you here because I did some investigating and the official record says the lesson plan was amended to fluid dynamics. Now, I confess that I don’t make the curriculum for my school, but I am quite certain that ‘fluid dynamics’ is not on it.”
“No, Ma’am. Terrible oversight, that.”
Celestia gave me a steely glare as she huffed. Not that she’s angry; she’s just remembered that the Paladins take this kind of sparring very seriously. Some of her social sophistication rubs Luna the wrong way, so we throw it back in her face when she isn’t asking straight questions to remind her that she’s doing it – while being as evasive as possible, naturally.
Seriously, I love my job.
“Well then, Paladin, why don’t you tell me how this subject came up?”
“Yes, Ma’am. See, Luna was fine until we were standing in front of a class. Once they started asking her questions, she started showing all the signs of stress that I’ve come to know. So, being the dutiful servant that I am, I decided to insert myself into the conversation with an anecdote about fluid dynamics. Broke the ice rather nicely, I thought.”
“Broke the ice.” Celestia gave me a good, long stare. “Would that ice, perchance, explain how the courtyard outside the Meadowlark building became abnormally muddy?”
“No. And yes. Not exactly, Ma’am. That was down to the raincloud, but it was part of breaking the ice, so to speak.”
“I see. So your anecdote about fluid dynamics broke the ice by using a raincloud to partially flood a children’s play area?”
“Yes! You got it. A demonstration of fluid dynamics requires fluid, after all.”
Celestia raised a hoof to her forehead and sighed.
“No. No, I’m afraid I don’t get it,” she said, frowning as she rubbed her temple. “Your anecdote was, in fact, a demonstration which – if my sources are correct – ended in most of the class, and a certain Princess of Equestria, getting covered in mud?”
“See? You do get it. Ice was broken; Luna had children both had a great time.”
“I was told it was an absolute mudbath.”
“Yes, Ma’am. As stated, everypony enjoyed themselves. Well, ’cept for a little colt called Zapper, initially, but he seemed quite happy to be personally consoled by a princess.”
“Zapper. Class 2C then,” Celestia said.
That stunned me for a few seconds. When I resumed, I’d completely forgotten about sparring.
“Princess? You know the class allocations for the kids at your school?”
She had that little smirk that said she knew full well she’d caught me off guard.
“Of course. I meet every child who attends my school personally, and I make a point of memorising their names. I consider it a show of respect.”
“Respect… yeah.” I already knew that she could name all the staff at the castle, even the temps. “That’s a lot of names. To be honest, I’m kind of—”
Celestia slapped her forehead with a hoof.
“I’ve been very foolish, haven’t I.”
“I’m not sure I’d go that—”
“I imagine Luna got anxious when a class of children started bombarding her with questions. You took control by taking them outside and demonstrating your cutie mark story for them. Fluid dynamics.”
“That’d be the length, depth, breadth, and duration of it, yeah.”
“And you say they all had fun in the end? Even Luna?
“Especially Luna. Class 2C is going to grow up never being afraid of Nightmare Moon. It was a good day.”
Celestia’s smirk mellowed. It became warmer – more natural.
“Thank you, Splashdown. I…”
“It’s okay, Princess. Good news doesn’t need an explanation. And hey, turns out it’s my job? Who’d a thought it, uh?”
She replied in a wide, beaming smile, and I headed back towards the door.
“So, I’ll see you again this time next week?” I said.
“You will? Dare I even ask?”
“Hockey.”
“Hockey? You mean with sticks and shin pads and a dangerously solid ball?”
I cleared my throat.
“Not exactly. Ice. Puck. More padding.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh. No good can come of it, so I’ll see you next week.”
Celestia chuckled quietly and I pulled the door open, but before I stepped through it, she interrupted me.
“Splashdown?”
“Yes, Ma’am?”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Ma’am. Just... promise me you’ll visit me in hospital.”
