It seems like any other day in the Solar Court, until a petitioner makes an alarming statement.
How much should a princess know about mental illness? This becomes the private debate of Princess Celestia, after a young petitioner approaches her, wanting to die.
As Princess Celestia attempts to help the young mare, she begins to question her private assumption that her own behaviors are healthy and normal - especially when she finds unexpected thrill in the mare questioning her every move.
It was just after lunch in the Solar Court, and Princess Celestia had just sat down upon her throne, her belly warm with tea and toasted sandwiches. As if as a sign of her pleasant mood, the sun shone warm and unceasing through the stained glass windows, casting rainbows across the purple tapestries and white marble.
The princess gestured.
The massive doors were propped open, sunlight and fresh air filtering in with the long line of petitioners. Ponies who had scheduled themselves in to see Celestia moved forward on the red carpet until the way was tied off to do so, by gold and velvet. This left half the room spacious and open, perfect for a pony to collect their thoughts. Celestia for her part, other than prompt, was happy to bask in the atmosphere of organized harmony.
These scheduled moments were, while tedious, her chance to become a passive activist in her ponies’ lives, although most seemed to want to argue about money, or property. That was fine too.
What also helped her mood was that this was the month of the first-year anniversary since the throne room had been redecorated, with her sister in mind.
The room echoed a dusky morning since the redesign.
Celestia's favorite part was while the dais was higher off the floor than before, it allowed for two thrones now, sitting side by side. Hers was red and gold, naturally; her sister’s, blue and silver. As the focal points of the room, the thrones were set against a cosmological backdrop of mosaics. A moon sat on one side, a sun on the other. Crowning the vaulted ceiling, was an array of shooting stars, flanked by purple curtains.
The sounds of running water, from the installed fountains, were a serene and functional final touch. Ponies were invited to drink, if they needed it - this saved awkward encounters with castle staff, who had been struggling to decipher and bus around customized orders. There were simply too many ponies to serve for the kitchen staff.
Every day, it came down to this feeling, this sense of accomplishment for this room, that echoed into the world beyond. It was her hope it would serve so many ponies; not just her and Luna. Just as the total of recent castle renovations were the culmination of years of separate points of events, now inscribed forever in the architecture - The designs for this room were sum of many crystallized epiphanies regarding harmony, as well as the diarchy’s place within it.
Our lives rest alongside cosmic gears, ever turning. Every action has a reaction, every mistake teaches us something new. Harmony is eternal.
Celestia inhaled the cool, wintry air of the season as she mused this manta, before seeing her latest visitor down below. She smiled.
"Yes, my little pony? How may I assist you, this day?"
"I want to die," Came the soft-spoken response.
That wasn’t right, Celestia thought, blinking. She must have misheard.
A pale brown mare in her young twenties gazed up at her, a purple cloak fastened at her throat with an over-sized button. Her mane was streaked blue and teal, cut coltishly short. It didn’t appear combed, the way hair stuck out and clumped here and there. She was likely from out of town.
Celestia had hoped there would have been no sign of the mare’s words upon her face when the alicorn had studied her. As it was, the mare sat quietly and without motion, ears gently erect; qualities that could have easily be misinterpreted for being calm.
The mare's eyes stared, blinking every now and then with a delayed, sleepy sort of look; watery and filled with rich, blue hues.
With a sea of emotion held at bay, itself a dilemma; Celestia was in a panic, itself the other. In her waking memory - no, she couldn’t even recall if this had ever happened before.
Harmony, Celestia thought, heart fluttering - This mare isn't calm at all. She was holding back, likely because they were in public, and this was a very orderly, predicted place. For as much space the mare had upon the floor, there was no room allowed for tears.
An error of princessly judgment.
Movement out of her peripheral showed one of her guards inquiring in a coded gesture if her visitor needed to be removed.
She had forgotten she was supposed to speak. Her guest, apparently impatient, chose to intervene.
"I want to d-die, Princess Celestia," The mare repeated, ears shifting slightly. Her mouth moved as she chewed her words, glancing at the line of ponies that waited beyond the door - several already glaring. She quickly faced forward and blinked up at the princess, tearfully. "I've wanted to, for a long time now."
Celestia nodded slowly, at the very least to show how she had heard the mare. She silently inhaled, the seconds ticking down until she had to dole her princessly wisdom, her resources; and be done with it, as was the expectation and design of these meets.
How tenuous it was, the building realization that this single encounter might determine whether a pony lived to see tomorrow. How inadequate her designs for this room had been, that a pony felt chased away - and herself, feeling guilty for not doing the chasing.
This isn't normal.
Naturally, she chose at the last moment to stall for time. Or perhaps, more information.
"I am sorry to hear that, my little pony." The princess murmured, her voice carrying on behalf of the room’s acoustics alone. "What can I do to help you with that?"
Yes, good thinking Tia. Let's narrow down the list first. Most ponies don't want to hear that they wasted their time in line, when they should have seen a therapist instead. Surely she knows what she wants out of this endeavor.
Half-flexed wings relaxed at the princess's sides, the sense of control filling her chest.
Her visitor however, suddenly looked at the door. The way her ears folded, and her muscles tensed, Celestia could tell she was considering the option to bolt - before the mare glanced back up, biting her lip.
You're right, little one. These meets weren't made for your problems. What will you do now that you realize this?
"I'm not sure," The mare admitted, shuffling her hooves worriedly. "I- See, I waited in line, and even before then I debated asking you to cure me. But then I presumed you wouldn't, because you might not have that ability, or I wouldn't deserve it."
Celestia blinked. Her internal critic was silent.
The mare grimaced and continued, "Or perhaps you would just tell me that depression was my battle to face alone, like there was merit in suffering, or some greater plan for harmony if I defeated it."
Others have said that to you, haven't they, Celestia mused, brows knitting at this misinformation.
"No," The princess corrected "I wouldn't say that to you."
"Oh." The mare glanced away, digesting this. The surprise had evidently shocked her into silence.
"There is no virtue gained through hardship. Wisdom perhaps," Celestia told her. "But never at the sacrifice of getting aid."
A slow nod, then a pensive knitting of the brows. "Are you going to tell me to get therapy?"
Maybe.
"If you know that it's available, there isn't really a reason for me to tell you, and waste your visit with me," Celestia smiled - her heart leaping when she saw her expression reflected, the mare appearing hopeful at such a mere, few words - and breaking.
I haven't done anything yet for you to be happy about.
"So," The mare fumbled with her words. "What would you... suggest? Or do?"
"I am an ardent believer that friendship can help you solve any problem," Celestia said, but added at the mare's crestfallen look, "But before I suggest anything to you, my little pony, I would like to learn more about you."
The princess gestured discretely, leaving the guards to their devices. In her peripheral Celestia watched them ease the line of petitioners back, and close the door to the throne room. She pretended the line wasn’t complaining as much as it was.
The thud-clank-creaking of the door made the mare jump and look behind her in a flash.
Sighing in relief at the lack of what she expected - other ponies- the mare returned to her exchange, nodding if rather anxiously, by the way her eyes suddenly found interest in the carpet.
"Well, I have a name," The mare said, "But it isn't very good. And what I mean by that, is it doesn't match me in any way, even when I had a cutie mark. Nopony really calls me by it, except professors. And my parents."
'Had' a cutie mark? Celestia hid her surprise with a wise nod.
"That isn't uncommon, just so you know. Many ponies change their names as they grow up, to better suit them. What...may I ask, is on your flank now?"
The mare smiled slightly. Apologetic. "Nothing, Princess."
Any further inquiries about what she meant were abated, when the mare straightened up on white-furred legs and turned around, lifting the hem of her cloak with her magic, revealing a bare, brown flank.
Celestia masked her surprise with another nod, doing her best not to stare. "That is certainly - interesting."
A goldfish would be better at harmony than you, Tia.
The mare for her part seemed happy about the princess's feigned enthusiasm.
"It is quite strange isn't it? I- um, see, I had a cutie mark at one point, but it sort of faded away. It was a dove. Nopony told me it was unnatural, but everypony was certainly worried. You could see it in their eyes. My family blamed me for it though. I suppose that didn't help much."
They blamed you?
Celestia felt her heart hammer in her chest, even as the mare's flank was taken out of sight, the mare re-situating herself on the carpet.
She had heard of this phenomenon, Celestia realized, her eyes flickering out of focus. Worse, she had even grades a few papers on the subject.
The magic behind cutiemarks was the source of extensive research across millennia, but even certain aspects to it were still unknown. Sometimes, if a pony's emotive or physical illness went untreated, it could result in a cutie mark vanishing altogether.
Most supported the theory it was due to psychosomatic depletion of magic. This was a widely-occurring, but temporary affliction that occurred after incidents requiring hospitalization, due to the mild thaumatic disruption that occurred while a pony's body handled the healing process. The disruption usually lasted at most two weeks, and never affected more than a unicorn's ability to use their horns, or any other pony, their limbs. The psychosomatic depletion that would take a cutie mark would have to require very deep trauma, over a very long period of time. Mental illness would have certainly qualified for this - and the mare was definitely ill; there was no doubt about that.
But it wasn't simply the evidence that had startled Celestia, but the potential of it. The psychosomatic removal of a cutiemark was often the precursor to a malignant, dubbed 'coping' talent appearing - which often required permanent institutionalization, because at that point, the coping talent made the pony unable to mesh with society.
The alicorn suppressed a shiver, remembering an occasion she had visited the psyche ward of the local hospital out of curiosity to speak to an authority on the matter.
Ponies were not supposed to bark like that. It went against harmony.
Celestia stared down at her visitor, the ticking time-bomb for things other than death. Rage mixed with fear, mixed with pity.
Her family blamed her for her illness. Then, they blamed her for her cutiemark.
It was a miracle the mare hadn't asked her to kill anypony.
It was wrong. It was wrong. It was wrong. It was wro-
Celestia smiled. “We will deal with that.”
She wasn’t sure she believed herself, with the slight rattle in her voice.
“Please, I know you claim it doesn't suit you, but is there some name I can call you?" Celestia asked, heartbeats ticking away the seconds of awkward silence.
"Um, Some friends call me Bee," The mare answered. "Because they mishear Sweet Pea."
"Bee, then," Celestia said. "So you do have friends?"
Bee shook her head. "I used to, but they were uncomfortable. We mostly fell out of touch, or avoided each other."
"I see. Is it possible to get in touch with them?"
Bee stiffened and audibly sucked in air through flared nostrils. "No."
Give me something to work with already.
At Celestia's raised, very-much-judgmental eyebrows, Bee added, "Not that it's a bad idea - it's just... They were so weirded out by me, not having a cutiemark; and many of them are looking for spouses, or starting careers at this point. We lost touch in high school. I just don't think it's feasible. Um. No offense, Princess."
"No offense taken," Celestia reassured her, letting the words hang for several heartbeats so that the mare would relax, before making her point. "That just means you need to make new friends."
"Won't they, er - be just as weirded out as the others were?" Bee’s tail flicked anxiously. "Being depressed too, that might make me disappoint ponies." Her expression changed. "I've thought through a lot of options, and outcomes. And that's the only reason I haven't died. Because after the end there is just - isn't anything there. No outcome to witness."
"And," Bee continued, If I say I take your advice, that means I might let you down. The princess of - well. The sun, it’s light. Growing things, by extent. Ponies. Equestria. Everything I know of, in my world, is you and your sister. And I think I'd disappoint you, Princess. I'm not good at making friends - and-"
"I don't-" Bee swallowed thickly, attempting to speak, but her throat had closed all of a sudden, her eyes were welling over. She rubbed furiously at her face, but the tears continued to flow, leaving the mare helpless to her own sobbing.
"I don't want to be alone again," Bee whimpered. "I don't want to die, not really - but I-I can't do anything right, so nopony cares about me. I'm just so tired of trying! So t-tired of failing."
So that’s it, Celestia quietly reflected, insides shifting. Bee has known neither love, nor friendship in her life, from the sounds of it. Of course she couldn't put her faith easily into others. Instead she has come here, on a gambit that she would have been received by either myself or Luna. Waited harmony knows how long. So that somepony could represent her world, and tell Bee that she was wanted in it.
Celestia watched the sobbing, sucking in a breath.
And that would be a lovely epiphany, except I have no idea what I’m doing here.
Bee had hit her blind, on all accounts. Harmony didn’t seem to be working. And if that was the case - what else was different about this mare that needed to be factored in? Could - would hugs and kisses make anything better to this mare? Or would such gestures remind her of what she lacked in her life?
It seemed silly to think like this.
But was it really silly, Tia? Really?
The princess descended from her throne after a second moment of hesitance. She, Princess of Equestria, would not be scared by tears. She had to time this right, or she might overwhelm Bee instead of help her.
Bee, for her part, was too busy rubbing her eyes to see Celestia sit beside her.
It was only after her sobs had trickled into whimpers, and Bee had managed to squint up through her hooves, that Celestia ambushed, enveloping the mare in her wings.
Bee went stiff, squeaking, "Wh-"
"Shhh," crooned Celestia, stroking Bee's head with a hoof. "You are receiving one of my patented Princess Hugs. Ones I normally reserve for family. Just relax."
The mare let out a shuddering sigh, the sound damp with fresh tears. She buried her face into rosy white fur and resumed crying, as Celestia hummed and made auntly noises in comfort, wrapping one gilded hoof around Bee.
So far so good. I think.
Celestia was reminded of her young students. There was Twilight especially, who had been prone to many breakdowns in her youth. She also remembered young Blueblood, her latest of distant relatives, who had the occasional, dramatic crying-spree to mop up, even now. She remembered what seemed like eons of being the extended-family, of picking up after scraped knees and burnt horns. As the reflexive knowledge came to her, Celestia calmed down into the embrace.
Bee really wasn’t so different from any of them, not like this.
"You've had it very hard, haven't you, my little pony," Celestia murmured. "I know if you hadn't, you probably wouldn't want a princess hugging you like this. There, there. You are worth having in this world. You will find ponies that show you that."
The sobs gradually quieted, taking several minutes for everything to truly have run their course. The dripping wetness in Celestia's fur became a soaked puddle, but Celestia pretended not to mind, continuing her machinations until she heard muffled noises and sniffles below her.
The alicorn drew back and tilted her head. "Better?"
The mare lifted her head, giving a shaky nod, however didn't budge nor look at Celestia; either because she didn't want the contact to end, or didn't want to offend.
Celestia got up, freeing Bee from the social faux pas. She made a show of stretching, to let the mare find the time for her words.
Bravo, Celestia. You scared her.
"I...Why?" Bee asked, her gaze drifting over to the alicorn. "Not that I don't appreciate it but - I must pay you back, in some way, for putting up with me."
"And how would you pay back a Princess?" Celestia asked, putting on her princessly smile.
"I..." Trailing off, Bee frowned, shrugging. "I'll figure it out."
"You will get better, is what you will do," Celestia told her, smiling wider. "And I will help you figure out how to do that, before you go home."
"Ah...Right." Bee nodded, sheepishly. A question hung in the way the brown mare shaped her mouth.
"Go on, you look like you need to say something."
Making a face, Bee admitted this with a quiet nod, then hesitated.
"You hugged me, but I don't know what I did to deserve it. And now you are acting more... Open, might be the word. Maybe. You are still Princess Celestia of course...and I know you're a pony. But...Why?"
"Would you have preferred I had made you leave?" Celestia asked.
Bee stiffened. "Well, no."
"You said I was a pony," Celestia said. "And that is your answer, Bee. I hugged you because I thought you needed a hug. Ponies do that."
“Not ponies back home,” Bee said with a frown.
“Perhaps the ponies back home are foalish,” Celestia answered. It only took her a moment to realize she might have said something offensive to the fragile mare.
Surprisingly, Bee didn’t flinch. A strange, small smile appeared on her face, unable to decide just what she felt in that moment. “ You might be right. But that doesn’t change I have to deal with them when I get back.”
“I didn’t say you would have to leave after this visit,” Celestia shook her head.
“But the train…”
Celestia continued to shake her head until the mare was silent. She took a deep breath and stood tall, thinking as she gazed about the room; at the symbolic, architectural harmonies that had failed this one, small mare.
All of the things she couldn’t understand, and the one that stood out was most that Bee needed help she would not be able to receive in her hometown. The perplexing thing about that, wasn’t so much as the help she required; but the way that Celestia found herself afraid of the mare, in some very deep, instinctive way that went against all reason.
Celestia wanted to run from the room, or fly through one of the windows. She wanted to do everything except help Bee, even though she also wanted to help her - none of it made sense. Celestia sighed, wondering if she’d have to cancel court. She didn’t know if she could handle another Bee walking in.
“Raven is my assistant,” Celestia heard herself say. “I want you to schedule yourself in with her, and it will not be during Solar Court hours.”
“Wha-?” Bee shifted on her hooves. “But that’s your personal time, isn’t it? Surely I’d be imposing.” Celestia restrained herself from rolling her eyes, and then felt bad for wanting to do it in the first place.
“Do you know what I do besides lead a nation?” Celestia asked calmly.
Bee shook her head.
“I’m a teacher and a principal at my school,” Celestia informed her. “I have office hours, Bee. You won’t be getting in the way.”
“Wou-would you tell me if I was?” Bee asked, brow knitting. She was shifting on her hooves so quickly, she looked about to start running all over again.
At least the doors will be open soon, she could if she wanted.
“I would, Bee,” Celestia said with a nod. “ I don’t believe in lying to my little ponies.”
Except you do, Tia. All the time. You fraud, with the thoughts you have.
I’m stressed. Bee has stressed me out, Celestia sighed through her nose. Everything is fine, I’m just taking Bee’s issues too close to heart. I am fine.
Outwardly, Celestia was smiling with all the grace and beauty of the sun on a gently-cloudy day.
"And the whole time, she was questioning me! Can you believe that?"
"I'm surprised as well,” Luna yawned, her fork cutting through an eye of her smiling pancake. “Despite her afflictions, it seems she may have quite the independent spirit buried underneath. Are you sure she simply doesn’t dislike you though?"
"It was exhilarating, Luna - of course she likes me,” Celestia snorted, before taking a bite of pineapple. “You should have met her. I think you would have done better with her - do you think it was wise? Just letting her leave?"
"I don't entirely enjoy being questioned by strangers as much as you do,” Luna grumped sleepily. “But please clarify: you didn’t just do that, did you? Abandon her?"
"Oh no, I had Raven set her up with a room and pension in the hotel for a month,” Celestia said, smiling around her food. “She also,” A swallow, “Scheduled Bee in for tea on Wednesday - tomorrow, I should say."
"That sounds wise. And generous." After these supportive comments, Luna chewed, awaiting more information. When Celestia accidentally threw her butterknife across the room when trying to cut a banana into slices, Luna blinked.
"Oh my stars Luna, I want to send her parents into the sun."
"As you’ve said. Erm.” Her sister dabbed her napkin thoughtfully. “You didn't get 'fiery', did you?"
"In court? No."Celestia was insulted. “I would never, Luna. I know decorum.”
"That's good."
"I did after. In the bath."
"Ah." Luna blinked.
Before she could ask about it, Celestia added,"I got better after the second tub.”
"Oh dear.” Luna set her cutlery down and massaged her tired eyes. “Was her retelling that bad?"
"Worse,” Celestia lamented. “Her parents blamed her for her vanished cutie mark, Luna. They are clearly horrible parents, exacerbating the problems she faces. I’m honestly scared of asking more about it, because then I might have to consult the guard for arrest warrants."
"The problems being, her depression and suicidal thoughts?"
Celestia clapped her hooves to the table, causing dishes to rattle. “I have seen things, Luna. This - This isn’t good, this is disastrous. What if Bee starts barking like a dog?”
"Celestia, that's all you've been saying,” Luna intoned patiently, ears folded at the noise. “That and you want to send her parents to the sun. And it was 'moon' earlier. This conversation is repeating itself."
"They deserve it," The elder muttered.
"And we can't establish a authoritarian regimen for parenting, Tia,” Luna reminded her, words being distorted by her yawn. “We would be dictators. That's bad."
"Hmph. I know."
“You are worrying, sister mine.” Luna said around her hoof, eyes squinting as she appeared to debate between yawning and eating. “You seem stressed about this mare, although you have not found the place to talk about yourself when I’ve asked. Only her, this Lady Bee.”
Celestia had remembered her breathing exercises this time around. When she had been wound up an hour ago over the same topic, Luna had silenced her with a raspberry tart to the face. Her ears still felt sticky, although Luna had sworn she had gotten it all.
“I can’t remember ever having dealt with a pony like this before, Luna,” Celestia said, sighing. “It troubles me that I was scared to even hug her.”
“It is newness you are feeling, that’s all,” Luna said with a nod, working on the last of her fruit. “I was fearful often due to everything being new to me. We want to be in control, but in the end no matter our ages, we will always be surprised.”
“Thank you for the fortune cookie, Luna.” Celestia huffed, earning a confused glare from Luna.
“I am quite serious, Tia,” Luna said.“ Do not be scared of your pony because she is new. When ponies are hurting, they sense fear easily in others. If you continue like this, you will only hurt her.”
“I wasn’t dismissing what you said, sister,” Celestia made a pleading gesture with her hoof, but Luna was already up and starting out of the room.
"I know, Tia,” Came her sister’s reply as she left. “I’m going to bed, though, as it is the hour. I don't want to see you festering over things you can't control."
"Lunaaaa,” Celestia whined. “Don’t leave meeeee."
"I’m going to bed, Tia, I’ve said my piece,” Luna called from the hall. “Go take a shower.”
“I’ll blow up the shower!” Celestia retorted after her.
“I love you too!” Came the fading echo of Luna’s voice.
Celestia sighed, finding herself alone, amongst empty dishes and half-finished meals. Her smile wilted from her face. The merriment of sisterly banter began to trickle away as the newfound silence settled in. The stillness of the atmosphere felt wrong, as if she herself had done something wrong.
You always do.
Celestia gulped down her coffee and decided to get up. After a quick poke of her head into the kitchen, she went off to her room, leaving the staff to collect the dishes and leftovers. She needed noise - and Luna was right, she needed a shower before work.
The water beating down on her back felt good. The weightlessness of her shoulders and hooves, still unadorned by her royal jewelry, basked in the heat of the warm water; tired muscles singing when she moved the dial to the hottest setting. Celestia sighed in the steam, wondering absently if there was a way to draw this moment out forever.
Thank you, Luna.
She didn’t want to go into court today; she didn’t want to go to school. With her other thoughts drowned out by the loud drumming of rushing water, it was easy to admit, especially in private.
“I am a weak, old, mare,” Celestia murmured to herself.
Luna was right, which wasn’t unsurprising. Her moon tethered her to the worlds of dreams and the subconscious; along with the starlit sky. She should have known how impressive her sister was, but her habit of good advice tended to go about forgotten. The list of Luna’s skills was as long as it was rarely brought up by either of them. Most of the time, contemplating the cutiemarks and roles between the sisters simply didn't happen.
“I certainly am in a morose, odd state of mind today,” Celestia said aloud, her voice all but droned out by the water, as she started to bathe. “If it all comes down to being afraid of something new, I could do better than think about the things I have no control over. After all, being afraid does little good, when action is what creates change...No matter what I am afraid of.”
“I face new things every day,” Celestia stated, smiling slightly. “Every week. Every decade. This? One mare? I can do better than that. I just have to not worry about it.”
If I always do something wrong, Celestia added brightly, Then I must hold the record for the longest one-mare con.
“And I have one thing over fear. I have administrative duty.”
Until something goes wrong. Until you let somepony down. Will your duties save you, or will you be forced to run?
“Shut up, me,” Celestia groaned. “I do not need my self-deprecation jinxing this.”
I know what I can do. I can head to my office early and write some letters. Perhaps paperwork will help me shake this funk.
Eventually the shower ended, and the princess, feeling refreshed and invigorated to face the day, stepped out onto the fluffy mat and dried off using several towels. The routine normally called for seven, but perhaps routine was causing her life to go stale. A windy, morning flight would do the rest for once.
See? New things aren’t scary. I can do more ‘new’.
“Princess Celestia? Um. I like what you did with your mane. You look...Fluffy today.”
“Thank you!”
“Wh - Wait, what are these papers doing everywhere? What are you doing with your office?”
“Trying something new, I believe. I figured my old arrangement was becoming lackluster and unprofessional. There’s certainly a lot of dust.”
“I… So have you graded my test yet? I wanted to go over the answers on the last quiz about the effects of magic on radial and linear axis of spatial casting.”
“Not yet. But I’ll tell you what, let me make a sign, and we can have office hours outside today!”
The clouds cast gentle purple twinkling shadows this morning, the sky beyond resembling a cut-open peach with deep reds, oranges and yellows.
As the sun rose, its light hit every cloud, rimming them with pink and golden light; a phenomenon easing upwards as time went until it seemed the massive cumulus clouds had captured the deep, fruit-flesh hues; leaving the farthest, highest clouds to spark white with the brimming day. White birds - pigeons, doves? Flew past my window. I saw glimpses of her today too, only a few gleaming wingbeats, disappearing into the artistry.
Standing there on the hotel balcony, I was at once frozen, yet feeling I was melting away from everything I had ever known.
- Diary Entry 2
“Princ-?”
Celestia looked up from where she had been laying on the grass to see a guard and her assistant escorting a familiar brown mare across the campus grounds.
It was the second day of ‘trying something new’. Today, the princess had decided to give an impromptu lecture to one of her graduate students, who had asked her an interesting question about her regalia. One thing led to another, and Moondancer was now taking notes on Celestia’s horseshoes, while their owner enjoyed the rare feeling of bare hooves in the crunchy, browning grass.
As the trio came closer, Celestia could make out the sounds of sniffling. Her assistant appeared peeved, and the guard, worried. She arose, ears pricking on alert.
I must believe in Harmony.
“Uh, Princess? You can have your shoes back. I’m going to go,” Moondancer said softly, before trotting off.
Celestia spared Moondancer a glancing, reassuring look; before her expression darkened with seriousness, addressing Raven. “What happened?”
“Princess, Miss Bee had been under the assumption that Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns was in another wing of the castle,” Raven answered, appearing a mixture of flustered and cross.
The mare in question whimpered, nothing except the hood of her cloak showing.
The guard pat Bee’s shoulder. “She, ah, wound up in the barracks and got lost," He explained. "One of the drill officers mistook her for a recruit and frightened her. She started crying and giving us the story, so I stepped in to show her to you. She’s a new student, I’m guessing?”
The guard broke away from his question to whisper something in Bee’s ear. Celestia caught the words, ‘It’s okay, nopony’s mad.’
Look at what you neglected now, Tia.
“Miss Bee is lucky she didn’t end up elsewhere. Such as the dungeons, or the catacombs," Raven added, scowling at her princess. “Make sure to take care of her.”
“I-I’m so sorry, this was my fault,” The hood between them mumbled. “L-look, I’ll um. I can just go. I’m not important.”
Raven scowled harder at Celestia to do something, as the guard continued his attempts to console Bee.
Celestia bowed her head in a courtly nod. “Thank you, Raven. You are dismissed.”
The alicorn embraced the brown mare and the guard in the shadows of her unfurling, massive wings, nudging the two of them in the direction of her office.
There was no time to waste if she wanted to repair this.
Bee bumped into her side with a squeak, before a golden aura gently turned her around and pulled down her hood. She cringed as the magic manipulated her, but followed along, sticking close to Celestia's shoulder.
Unable to afford the time to ask, looked to the guard flanking the alicorn's other side.
“You are Thundercloud, aren’t you?” Celestia asked. “You have a little sister.”
“Little sister, and little brother,” Thundercloud corrected, seeming impressed. “You remembered my voice even though I’m disguised in this armor?”
“You also help foals at the daycare,” Celestia smiled. “And you are always wanting to help the staff. You are very kind and memorable, and I thank you for helping Miss Bee find her way today. If you are available, I would like you to watch the door while I help Bee with what happened.”
“I would love to,” Thundercloud grinned. “Just make sure to tell my commanding officer or she’ll write me up. It’s Rumble Quartz.”
“I know her,” Celestia hummed. “Rumble had the promotion recently, didn’t she? I know Tumble Tuft is also in the guard, leading a different unit.”
“Yeah, they’re related," Thundercloud said. "That’s all I know. I can never remember if they are sisters or cousins, but they are both good ponies. Rumble really deserved that promotion. She worked hard for it, even if she kicks my flank now.”
Conversation went on like this while the trio traveled through corridors, maneuvered around students, and ascended stairwells.
Celestia sent a smile Bee’s way to include her, but the brown mare’s puffy eyes darted away, disappearing as she tugged her hood down again.
She is so much like a foal, Celestia noted at one point. So fragile and scared.
How do you know she isn’t already broken?
Celestia tossed her head, masking her irritation with a careful frown.
“.... So now there is a debate between different guards on whether or not yoga can assist in defensive-combat training drills.”
“I recall some of that is because of hospitalizations,” Celestia said distractedly. Realizing where they were, she gestured, looking from Thunder to her office. “We’re here now.” She withdrew a key from her mane and unlocked the door.
“Thundercloud, I thank you for your companionship. Please look out for us. Bee, come in and mind the mess.”
“Yes, Princess.”
“Ah...Are you-” Bee’s complaint was cut off by Celestia’s insistence.
“Come in, please.”
Cleaning the office had revealed rich, mahogany floors and starry magenta carpets. With the dust cleared from the room and papers reorganized, Celestia thought that the room now looked better than it had in ages.
Bookshelves and tapestries lined the walls, while low tables and warm, velvet cushions were positioned strategically to be both inviting and unlikely to be tripped over. A classic, but simple ovular office desk took up the back left corner of the room, the line of modern filing cabinets behind it somehow not spoiling the antiquated, academic calm. A stone fireplace in the middle wall to the right promised relief from the cold, while small alcoves glowed with magelight at Celestia’s presence.
Presently, Celestia and Bee had taken a seat at one of these low tables. A golden platter had been conjured, atop it a teapot of steaming chamomile tea. Accompanying were small pots of sugar and cream, along with a plate of double-chocolate fudge cookies.
As Bee feasted on the cookies, the worried creases in her face faded over the minutes into pensiveness, the uncomfortable event now a distant memory. She held her cup in her hooves, blowing on it every now and then in silence.
“I just want you to know that this is a safe place,” Celestia said at last. “It was my fault for not giving you directions, Bee. I am not judging you.”
“You should judge me,” The brown mare whispered. “I was stupid.”
“Everypony makes mistakes,” Celestia assured her. “Even I find myself getting lost from time to time.”
Liar.
Bee sullenly nodded, without looking up. “Everything I do is a mistake.”
“Now, that isn’t true.”
“How do you know?”
“Because,” Celestia said, pausing to sip from her own mug. “I know that from personal experience, that our mistakes lead to our greatest victories. We learn from the things we do wrong. It may feel awful at first, but then you realize you know more from trying and failing, than if everything went perfectly the first time.”
“I don’t… I don’t understand,” Bee frowned.
“Well, consider this, my pupil,” Celestia smiled. “You now know where the barracks are, as well as my school. Now you can go to both.”
The mare scrunched her face in confusion and disgust.
“You also know,” Celestia went on, “That Raven -my assistant- is worried about you.”
“That was worry?”
Celestia stifled a laugh with her hoof. “Quite. She is a severe, and tired-looking mare; but Raven Inkwell has a heart of gold for as long as I’ve known her.”
Silence, as Bee thought this over. Then little slurps as she finally drank her tea.
“And you also have a friend,” Celestia added. “I should think that if you ever need help, you know now that Thundercloud will be there.”
Bee’s ears wilted, and she looked into her cup. “I thought friendship was supposed to feel magical. Like, a sparkly magnetism.”
“It can.” Celestia said, “But not always. Bee, you’ve just met Thundercloud. It takes time for a bond to develop.”
“He probably just pities me,” Bee sighed. “I’m a grown mare, and I was crying like a foal.”
“Do you think crying means anything?” Celestia asked.
“Of course it does,” Bee scowled. “Crying is a way foals tell their parents they need help. Adults use their words. Adults have self control.”
“So if I were to cry, would you tell me to have self control? To my face?” Celestia asked.
“Sure.”
“Without knowing anything else about why I was crying...You would tell me to stop?”
“I…” The brown mare made a face. “I guess I wouldn’t. You’re Princess Celestia. If you are crying, something serious must have happened.”
Celestia smiled. “What if you were me, would you tell yourself you were a foal?”
“I don’t know,” Bee said. “I mean - maybe. Ponies would panic if you cried, Princess. I’d at least try to do it in private.”
“But what if you couldn’t?”
“Then…” Bee trailed off, frowning. “Then I would have to accept I was crying in public, and that I had a reason for it.”
“Good,” Celestia nodded.
Bee glared. “Princess, I’m not you. I’m not important.”
“Oh, Bee,” Celestia sighed. “You are very important.”
The mare flinched. “See, you’re disappointed in me now.”
Celestia shook her head, closing her eyes. “No, no I’m not.”
“You are!”
The shriek took Celestia by surprise, and she saw that Bee was trembling in her seat.
She’s terrified, Celestia realized, a chill rising. But not because of me.
“Bee?” Celestia ventured softly. “Has this happened before?”
The mare looked at her hooves, and the teacup within them. Unable to hold it steady, it rattled in her grip, remnants of tea sloshing out onto her cloak. She set it down quickly, as if she had been burnt. Rather than look at Celestia, her eyes stared at the messy cup, sitting stiffly, hooves between her haunches, her breathing ragged and wet.
“Bee?” The mare looked about to cry, eyes still puffy and raw from earlier.
How many tears could she possibly have left?
Bee swallowed thickly, audibly.
“Everypony,” She whispered. “I do something wrong; say something not right. There are looks they give me. Their posture changes, Celestia, and it stays that way. Ponies sigh, or roll their eyes. They make gestures, these minuscule things, and I know they are sick and tired of me. I knew I would disappoint you, too.”
“Bee…” What could the alicorn say?
“I didn’t mean to make you think of them,” Celestia whispered, reaching a hoof across the table. “I am not tired of you, not in any way.”
You liar.
“But I will admit,” Celestia added, words pained by a slow exhale, her head throbbing, “This is new for me. I have never had a mare quite like you in my care, and I am… afraid... I will do something wrong. I breath - and sigh- to collect my thoughts. To figure out what I must do, how I might help.”
“And right now,” The alicorn said, “I want you to know that I understand.”
Bee looked up.
“I do not know why your family judges you," Celestia went on. "I would hope it is because they are afraid - not of you, but what they aren’t able to help you with. But I want you to know their reactions are wrong, and I do not intend to emulate them.”
“Now. While you are here in Canterlot I would like you to think of yourself as a princess,” Celestia said. “As well as my student. I will be giving you homework. Every day, I would like you to come and talk to me.”
“I… Okay?” The brown mare frowned.
“And I may take you along to meet ponies. Is that all right?”
Bee nodded.
Celestia smiled. “Good.”
Her new ‘student’ had been ushered out soon after, their first session together coming to a close on an officially good mark. It was, Celestia reflected, a hopeful ending. She had gotten much from Bee to think about.
Strange that she had locked the door, right when she had found herself alone.
“I need some time to prepare paperwork for a class tomorrow. Please escort Miss Bee back to her hotel.”
Celestia had sat down, as she always had. That had been thirty minutes ago, according to her internal clock. Her pen was still suspended in her magic, hovering uselessly over the papers she needed to grade.
Something wasn’t working right inside Celestia. For some reason, her heart was clasped in fear.
You lie and you lie, old mare. You are tired of Bee as well as everything else.
Celestia’s headache continued at a steady throb, despite what she had taken for it. She felt so tired - it was one of those moments where she could feel the weight of her own, giant body, weighed down by the gravity of the earth. As her thoughts hovered, detached; her perceptions of herself were soaked with the edges of an epiphany she was always forgetting.
No. She knew better.
How many revolutions of the sun has it been? How many cycles of the seasons have I been here?
Ponies, Celestia thought. They never learn that hurting one another creates more harm than good. For as much as I embrace and teach harmony to my little ponies, I cannot erase the fact that there will always be violence in the world. Whether that be physical, emotional, or spiritual...They will always find ways to justify it. Even against a child.
You let them, with your leniency.
Bee’s troubles had not begun recently. Her pain went far too deep, too deep to be mended with simple assurances.
Although Celestia was unable to see into the mare’s possibilities, as informed by her past -nor did she possess Cadance’s gift of scrying hearts- the princess knew that the sort of reactions Bee had shown today meant that she had few ties to the world, if this was how she acted.
I don’t even know if it is abuse, Celestia realized. Or if her parents simply do not understand. How will this month end, with that in mind? How can I ever hope to give her closure, when I am frightened as much as I am?
I cannot do this alone, Celestia sighed. It isn’t just the ‘newness’ of Bee’s circumstance. There is something more, something I’m not equipped to deal with here. I am merely a half-useless creature of fate.
Her eyes stared off into the middle distance, unfocusing, a thought hitting her.
Harmony, Celestia breathed. Bee has come to me, because she has chosen me to be her executioner.
