> Princess Celestia's Legendary Litany of Laughable Losses > by Prak > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Princess Celestia’s Legendary Litany of Laughable Losses > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Princess Celestia’s Legendary Litany of Laughable Losses by Prak “Oh, come now, Luna. I don’t lose every fight.” Luna slowly raised an eyebrow and pulled her lips back into a deliberate, derisive smirk. Celestia’s eyes narrowed in response from across the breakfast table. “I’m serious, Luna,” said Celestia, setting her teacup down gently atop its saucer as Luna took a bite of her muffin. “You can't make an assumption like that based only on what’s happened since you returned. You were gone for a thousand years, and in that time…” Celestia’s voice trailed off as Luna raised her forelegs and rested her knees on the table, using her hooves to prop up her face. Her features were contorted by a smile that threatened to break free of her mouth’s confines and encompass her ears. “What?” “Perhaps you’ve forgotten that in all our years, you’ve never beaten me.” Luna lowered her hooves and leaned back. Celestia’s ears flattened and her face sank. She took a quick sip of her tea, and as she put the cup down again, she said, “Perhaps you forgot about that little tiff a thousand years ago.” Luna’s smug smile split into a devilish grin as she leaned in again. “You mean the time I kicked your flank all around the Everfree castle until you ran to the Elements? They did all the work for you. When it was just the two of us, I was winning.” “Well, there were other times—” Luna clapped her hooves together. “Oh! Remember that time when we did that exhibition duel to support the Everfree Orphanage?” Celestia recoiled from the memory, but Luna pressed her attack. “I seem to recall besting you in a mere seven seconds on that occasion.” Ears perking up, Celestia countered with, “Luna, that was just an exhibition!” “Of course. That’s why I only used a quarter of my power,” said Luna. Celestia’s jaw fell, and while she recovered, Luna took the opportunity to guzzle the rest of her tea and revel in the disapproving glare from the connoisseur across the table. Celestia opened her mouth to speak, but Luna cut her off. “And how about that time when I was still a filly, right after I got my cutie mark? You remember that one, right?” The memory drew another cringe from Celestia. With a dramatic flourish, Luna propped up her chin with an upturned hoof and screwed her gaze upward, toward the ceiling. “Now correct me if I’m wrong, but I seem to recall that you, a nearly full-grown young mare, tried to hit me for swiping a bite of cake from your plate.” Her eyes flicked back to Celestia, who appeared to be paralyzed. Dark spots were appearing on her coat as she broke into a cold sweat. “The next thing I remember is you in an ankle lock, begging me to let go.” Luna imagined gears grinding in Celestia’s head and pictured smoke spewing from her ears as she fell over, but when Celestia finally moved, she merely deflated. “Fine. I admit I can’t beat you, Luna.” As she recovered her composure, she shakily levitated her teacup and took a larger swallow than she intended. She took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, and slowly exhaled before speaking again. “But as I was saying, a lot happened in the last thousand years, and I did actually win a few—” “Like the thing with the minotaurs?” Celestia’s eyes went as wide as plates, and Luna momentarily wondered what kind of dishes could be served on them. “Luna… How did you…?” “You might recall I did a lot of reading after I returned, including historical texts.” “Well, yes, but those didn’t—” “I also looked at the sources. It’s amazing what you can find in old war journals. Like that time…” The minotaur horde was nearly upon the Equestrian army. Hundreds of white, gray, and brown ponies in gleaming golden armor stood in flawlessly straight rows as the bipedal giants stomped across the plain in complete disarray. The only advantage the barbarians had was in numbers, but it was nearly three-to-one in their favor. Still, Celestia had faith in the superior skill, determination, weaponry, and training of her nation’s defenders. The minotaurs came to a stop just outside the range of Equestria’s archers, and as they roared like savages at the ponies, one of them, larger and more ornamented than the others, stepped away from the ranks. Celestia trotted forward to meet him, waving dismissively at her honor guard as they moved to accompany her. If he was willing to go alone, she would do the same. They came to a halt in the center of the field, and Celestia’s ears were filled with the roar of the enemy to her front, but only the stoic silence of her soldiers greeted her from behind. “Pony leader,” the minotaur chieftain said, “it is the right of the strong to conquer the weak. If you prove your strength, we will leave.” Celestia kept her eyes locked on those of the chieftain, who stood nearly two feet above the tip of her horn. “I would like to avoid bloodshed if possible. What do you propose?” The minotaur smirked and said, “Single combat. Leader versus leader. If you win, we go. If you lose, we conquer.” Celestia made her decision without hesitation. “Very well.” She stepped back and assumed a combat stance. “You may begin whenever you—” She hardly even registered the fist growing larger in her vision, blotting out her view of the rest of the world, before everything went black. “It was a sucker punch, Luna! What was I supposed to do against that?” Luna shook her head, causing a minor wobble in the magic holding the teapot as she refilled her cup. “I don’t know. Maybe try ducking? Or not talking so much?” Celestia huffed and pulled the pot from Luna’s grasp once her cup was full. As she filled her own, she said, “It doesn’t matter anyway. My soldiers won the battle without suffering a single casualty.” “Yes, and as I recall, a young private, barely out of training, defeated their chieftain in single combat.” Celestia slammed her hooves down on the table and leaned forward, rising well above Luna’s head. “I’ll have you know, that colt went on to become Captain of the Guard!” Luna closed her eyes and calmly sipped her tea. “And his most well-known contribution was the addition of doilies to the tables in the mess hall.” Fire flashed in Celestia’s eyes, but by the time she began her retort, it was already dying. “I’ll have you know those doilies were very…” Her voice trailed off, but Luna leaned in and went for the kill. “Very what, sister?” asked Luna. Celestia’s mouth tightened into a line straight enough to use as a ruler. “Very... powerful? Useful? Hygienic, perhaps?” “Tasteful,” whispered Celestia. In the ensuing minute it took for Luna to stop laughing, Celestia’s face passed through nearly every known shade of red. As it deepened toward fuchsia, Luna finally stopped cackling and gasped for breath. When they made eye contact, Celestia asked, “Are you done now?” “I think so. Would you like to concede this argument now?” “Of course not. That’s not fair at all! You haven’t given me a chance to name a fight I won!” Luna leaned back into a cushion and folded her forelegs behind her head. “Oh? Do tell.” “There was one time with a griffon ambassador. He took offense over some silly thing or other, and—” “I heard about that. It doesn’t count,” Luna said, cutting Celestia off. “That ambassador tripped on a table leg while you were backing away and knocked himself out.” Celestia scowled, and when she spoke again, irritation was building in her voice. “Well, there was that dragon I was forced to kill six hundred years ago.” “You mean the ancient one with the failing lungs who had a heart attack after breathing a little bit of fire for the first time in centuries?” Luna’s grin was so predatory that Celestia could have sworn she saw fangs for a moment. When Celestia’s lips moved without actually producing any words, Luna seized the opportunity. “Maybe this is a good time to mention another story I heard about.” The sounds of clanging steel and whizzing spells echoed through the courtyard of Canterlot’s newly built Royal Guard compound. Dozens of ponies from all three races were honing their skills against dummies, targets, obstacle courses, and each other. Sitting above it all on a balcony, Princess Celestia sipped tea while watching the soldiers’ daily training. She turned to the armored earth pony beside her. “Captain Iron Sight,” she said. The captain glanced over at her. “I would like to take a closer look. Please escort me to the floor.” “Of course, Princess.” Iron Sight led her out the door, down a spiral staircase, through a couple of extra hallways to dodge one that was being mopped, and finally out into the courtyard. Why she didn’t just fly down, he didn’t know, but he figured it wasn’t his place to ask. “As you can see, Your Majesty,” Iron Sight began, “there is room enough here for over a hundred ponies to train simultaneously, and—” He noticed that Princess Celestia had walked away from him, disrupting his carefully planned and rehearsed speech. Instead of listening to him talk about how efficient the layout was, she had opted to watch a young stallion battering a straw dummy with his bare hooves. The captain trotted over and tried again to begin his lecture. “Ah yes, as you can see, our recruits train in the finest martial arts from across Equestria. Each one can—” “His strikes are a bit weak,” Celestia said, interrupting the captain again. “He isn’t putting enough weight into them.” “Your Majesty, I assure you that his technique is completely—” “Allow me to demonstrate the proper technique,” said Celestia. Iron Sight threw up his hooves behind her back and gave up on trying to get a word in. Meanwhile, the recruit moved aside for her, and she took his position in front of the dummy. Princess Celestia stood up on her hind hooves, flaring her wings for balance, and with a mighty yell, she threw a hard right at its head. And missed completely. Dropping back to all four hooves, a dark look fell across her face as she stared into the dummy’s mocking eyes—or to be more accurate, its complete lack thereof. The young stallion, however, seemed impressed by her display. “That was magnificent, Your Majesty!” he cried. “What would that have done to the dummy if you hadn’t aimed to the side?” “Yes, Princess, please show us your strength again,” Captain Iron Sight said from behind, miraculously managing to keep even the slightest hint of sarcasm from his voice. “Please don’t worry about the dummy. We have plenty of spares.” Celestia nodded and took the same stance as before. With another cry, she lashed out at the dummy and struck it squarely in the face. Her golden shoe, however, was embedded in the straw and came loose as the dummy rocked back harshly on its thick, wooden post. She reached forward to grab it, but the flexible wood snapped forward again, and the dummy’s head slammed into her muzzle. She stumbled back, and as her eyes refocused, her shoe dislodged itself from the straw dummy as it flung forward again and grew larger in her vision, blotting out her view of the rest of the world before everything went black. Celestia slammed her hooves onto the table and rose up. “That was nothing but an accident, and it wasn’t even a fight in the first place!” Still snickering to herself, Luna said, “I beg to differ, sister. It was a fight you started, against an inanimate object, and lost in such magnificent fashion that the royal scribe had it preserved in a painting for future generations to enjoy!” With a similar appearance to balloons inflating, Celestia’s eyes widened. “What?” she yelled. “Where is this painting? Why have I never seen it?” “To answer your questions in order: there is a painting of the event; it was in a small museum in Trottingham until I acquired it for my personal collection and distributed copies to every art gallery in Equestria; and it is clearly because the painter did not want it burned—an option which I have made absolutely sure is beyond your capability now.” “Luna! Why would you do that to me?” “Just chalk it up to sibling rivalry,” Luna said sweetly, winking mischievously. “Besides, you should be thankful that’s the one that got the painting, and not the one from twenty-five years ago.” Celestia slowly deflated and sat back down. For a long moment, she tilted her head back and forth, blinking more often than usual, as she tried to puzzle out Luna’s meaning. “I think you must be mistaken. I didn’t get into any fights twenty-five years ago, much less lose one. The only time I was even hurt was…” Celestia gasped as the implication hit her nearly as hard as the minotaur chieftain had. “Yes, I’m talking about that time.” Celestia failed to completely stifle a giggle as the unicorn infant held aloft by her magic batted playfully at her nose. “He’s adorable, Noble Heart.” The proud mother stood between Celestia, who stood at the top of the stairs in front of her throne, and a gathered crowd of mares, all eager to get a better look at the newest member of the royal family, as well as drop the names of their young daughters for future marriage consideration. In that moment, a ray of sunlight broke through a nearby window at just the right angle to strike the foal’s amber mane, coating it in a golden sheen, melting the hearts of all those fortunate enough to be witnesses. It was as though the sun had reached down and anointed him as Celestia’s gift to mares. “Oh, Prince Blueblood!” the ladies cooed. Some fanned themselves to cool the sudden heat while others simply fainted. The only ones immune to his charm were his own mother and his distantly related aunt. “Now, ladies,” said Celestia, “I’m certain he’ll one day be the desire of every young mare, but please remember that Prince Blueblood is just a foal. Making romantic advances toward one so young would be improprietous, not to mention illegal.” She followed up with a wink to the crowd. A collective “Awwwwww” filled the throne room, but Celestia and Noble Heart merely chuckled. When Celestia looked at Blueblood again, though, something was wrong. His eyes were no longer darting around at all the different mares in the room, but locked onto her own, narrowed with evil intent. Celestia broke into a cold sweat for reasons she couldn’t even identify. “Um… Noble Heart, perhaps you should take him back now.” “Of course, Your Highness. Come back to Mommy now, dear.” She reached out with her magic to pull him from Celestia’s grip, but Blueblood grabbed his aunt by the ears and dragged her along as he was pulled backward to the waiting embrace of his mother. His face lit up with a malicious grin as Celestia lost her footing and fell forward. For a moment, she could see a wave of panicked mares rushing forward, but she had just enough time to realize it was the prince they were concerned about before the floor filled her vision, blocking out the rest of the— The end of the story was cut short by an uncharacteristic screech. “Enough, Luna!” Rattled by the outburst, Luna could only stare in incredulity at her wild-eyed sister as her breath came in heaving gasps and heretofore unknown shades of red fought a war across her cheeks for control of territory. “Fine, I admit it! I can’t win a fight! I’ve never won one and I probably never will! Are you happy now? Is that what you wanted?” Luna slowly closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, she said, “Calm yourself, sister. I apologize for offending you. I truly did not mean for my taunts to cut so deep.” It took a moment for the point to sink in, but Celestia soon began to calm down. She sat back down on her cushion, head hanging low. “I know you didn’t mean any harm, Luna. It’s just that our subjects depend on us—on me—to protect them, and I can’t do it.” Luna reached across the table and put a hoof on Celestia’s shoulder. Celestia lifted her head to find a smile on Luna’s face that held no sarcasm or spite, only kindness and love. “Sister, I think your problem is merely one of confidence. If you experience an honest victory, I believe you will never lose again.” Tears welled in Celestia’s eyes, but in the face of Luna’s earnest desire to help, they couldn’t bring themselves to fall. She wiped them away and smiled back. “Very well, Luna. What do you propose?” Luna stood up and began moving the room’s furnishings toward the walls. “Your greatest adversary is yourself, so if your first victory is against all that has held you back, you will never have to worry about defeat again.” Celestia gasped and jumped to her hooves. “Luna, you can’t be suggesting what I think you’re suggesting!” With an impish grin, Luna finished her preparations by warding the walls and doors. “That’s exactly what I’m suggesting! I shall temporarily split you into two identical copies of your true self! That way, no matter which one wins, you do!” Eyes wide with panic, Celestia lurched forward and reached toward Luna to protest, but she stopped short as she pictured the scenario. She was right. There really was no way to lose, and from a philosophical perspective, defeating the manifestation of her own weakness was poetic. “Very well, Luna. You may cast the spell whenever you’re ready. * * * Standing over the two unconscious Celestias, Luna sighed and removed one of her shoes to rub her face directly with the hoof. “Oh well. I suppose a draw is still an improvement.”