Princess Luna takes it upon herself to teach Twilight Sparkle a vital skill: THE TRADITIONAL ROYAL CANTERLOT VOICE.
Twilight Sparkle has mastered many skills: friendship, magic, diplomacy, organization, and so on. However, Princess Luna has realized that Twilight has yet to master one final skill before she can truly ascend to the throne.
And so, Luna takes it upon herself to teach Twilight THE TRADITIONAL ROYAL CANTERLOT VOICE.
As Twilight Sparkle walked into Princess Luna's chambers, she reminded herself that the decor wasn't meant to be intimidating, even though it easily pulled the effect off anyway (much like Princess Luna herself, in that regard). The deep blue tapestries and wall hangings did little to soften the appearance of the black marble facing along the walls, while the massive desk and bookshelves dominating the opposite half of the room were carved from wine-dark mahogany. A faint pang of longing coursed through Twilight's chest as she laid eyes on the untitled books (well, “tomes” was likely a more accurate term)-- though her vaguely covetous thoughts trailed off once she spied the yellowed reptilian skull that Luna had re-purposed as a bookend. Silver lamps set in the ceiling cast the whole of Princess Luna's study in an eerie, otherworldly light. The whole of the decor's effect was that of a stone monument in miniature: stubborn and enduring.
The battle-axes hanging on the wall behind Luna were a little much, though.
Twilight shifted her wings and coughed softly as a way of announcing herself. Luna looked up from the maps she'd been poring over on her desk, and smiled.
“Ah, friend Twilight. It's good that you're here.” The Princess of the Night gestured to one of the high-backed chairs in front of her desk. “Please, sit. We have much to discuss.”
“We do?” Twilight blinked, then eased herself into the surprisingly comfortable chair, its cushions incongruously plush in comparison to all the stone and hardwood Luna seemed to favor.
“Indeed.” Luna's horn glowed as she neatly rolled up her map and tucked it into a desk drawer. “I know your time is valuable, Twilight, so I shall get to the point forthwith. My sister has taught you well-- you are well on your way to mastering the skills necessary to come into your own as a true Princess of Equestria. Friendship. Diplomacy. Etiquette. Even your skill at battle-magic is coming along nicely.”
“Thank you? But I'd much rather be known as a friend and a scholar than, you know ... a warrior or anything.” Twilight glanced up at the crossed axes mounted on the wall behind Luna's desk and noted scratches and notches in the steel that could only have come from hard use.
“Wouldn't we all?” Luna shook her head. “Sadly, ponies of our stature rarely get such a luxury. But that is not why I have asked you here today. As there is an aspect of your education that my sister has ... overlooked.”
“There is?” Twilight blurted. “Wait-- hold on, it's not something about having to take on a royal consort, is it? Or concubines? Or having to get married to some foreign dignitary for political reasons?”
“That is the first thing that comes to mind?” Luna arched a brow. “I find this ... concerning.”
“Eheh.” Twilight scratched at the back of her neck, feigning casualness. “I guess it's just because Princess Celestia's done so much to teach me everything else, right? That, and, uh, I've been hanging out with Fluttershy a lot lately.”
“I see.” Luna said. “But, no matter. Matters of consorts and marriage-pacts are trivial in comparison to what you've yet to learn.”
“And what's that?”
“The Traditional Royal Canterlot Voice.”
It was at that moment that Twilight realized just why all of Luna's furniture was so solidly built. Anything less would've been shaken to pieces long, long ago.
“That's ... that's definitely something Princess Celestia never taught me.” Twilight rubbed one of her now-ringing ears. “But are you sure it's ... necessary?”
“Of course it is. I would not have brought it up otherwise.”
“But don't you think the Traditional Royal Canterlot Voice is a little ... antiquated? I mean, sure, I know ponies will expect me to give speeches because I'm a princess. But I'm already good at public speaking-- so long as I have time to make some notecards first. And, you know, with modern microphones and acoustic design, it's not as if I have to shout at everyone--”
“Shout?” Luna narrowed her eyes. “I do not shout, Twilight. I project.”
It was at that moment that Twilight realized just why her chair had such thick cushions. The plush upholstery served as a kind of primitive acceleration couch, holding her in place beneath the force of Luna's ... projection.
“And, I admit--” Luna continued at a thankfully lower volume, “the modern technologies which you list certainly do have their uses. However, it is unwise to depend on them entirely. As there will no doubt be times when you will lack the time or resources to rely on microphones. What would you do if you had to rally your troops on the battlefield? Or if you had to cow a rioting mob? In such eventualities, the Traditional Royal Canterlot Voice is essential.”
“That's ... one way to look at it. But it's not like I've got any troops to rally, or mobs to, ah ... cow.”
“Not yet.” Luna said with absolute, regal certainty.
“And hopefully not for a long time. If ever.” Twilight sat up straighter in her chair. “So ... as flattered as I am, I'm going to have to respectfully decline. I'm sure there's a lot you can teach me, Luna, it's just that I have more ... pressing concerns, you know? We're both busy ponies-- wouldn't it be better if you taught me about something I could use ... um ... indoors?”
“Indoors.” Luna said, deadpan. She leaned back in her chair, then steepled her hooves in front of her nose. “Perhaps, friend Twilight, we should make a wager.”
“A wager?”
“A simple one. If I can show you a proper use for the Traditional Royal Canterlot Voice within the confines of Canterlot palace-- with no crises or emergencies, I should note –then will you consent to learn? And if I cannot prove my point, then I shall teach you about a subject of your choosing. Even, concubinage, if that's what you desire.”
“But I don't desire!” Twilight blurted, if a bit too quickly. “Er, concubines, that is. Unless we're talking about looking at the practice from a wholly historical perspective, as a matter of academic study. Seems most ponies these days just get weird ideas from badly researched romance novels, and ... that honestly could explain a lot of the questions Fluttershy asks sometimes.”
“Then tell me, Friend Twilight-- what would you like to learn?”
“Oh! Well, that's a pretty loaded question, right there. Although, now that I think about it, your comparatively recent return to Equestria combined with your resumption of your old duties as the Princess of Dreams does have the potential to revolutionize modern psychiatric theory. Or, your ability to raise the moon does offer some intriguing possibilities in the study of tidal physics ... “
“So we are agreed, then?”
“I, uh, I guess so?” Twilight said. “Seems like kind of an obtuse way of doing things-- I mean, can't I just pick now? Skip the whole 'royal wager' process?”
“You are confident.”
“I guess so, yeah?”
“Very well then. Let us adjourn to the east ballroom, and we shall settle the matter forthwith.”
Twilight had been in the east ballroom plenty of times-- typically for the Grand Galloping Gala (and the inevitable post-gala disaster response). This time, however, was different. This time, the enormous room was empty. The ballroom's furniture had been completely cleared out, leaving the high-vaulted hall empty save for a hoofball-pitch-length table stretched across the middle of the room. A chair was set at either end of the enormous banquet table-- the closest had Twilight's magic-burst of a cutie mark carved into the back, while Luna's crescent-moon sigil decorated the other.
Luna met Twilight at the door, and gestured airily towards one end of the table. “Please, Twilight. Sit. I've already sent for refreshment.”
“Oh, um, thank you?” Twilight said, and settled in her designated chair. This done, Luna spent the next few minutes strolling to her end of the enormous table. Teleporting would have been quicker, but also terribly, terribly gauche. Finally, Luna settled down in her own seat, then rung a small, silver bell-- the tinkling sound barely audible at such a distance.
Still, the staff must have been expecting it. With ninja-like silence and machine-like efficiency, Canterlot Palace's kitchen staff materialized at either end of the table, laying out identical table settings. A unicorn in a chef's hat set a dome-covered platter in front of Twilight-- and with no small degree of fanfare, removed the cover to reveal its gourmet contents.
A cookie.
Though to call it a 'cookie' was much like calling Princess Celestia 'a big horse with some extra bits on.' Technically correct, if terribly inaccurate. What sat on the plate before Twilight was a hoof-sized disc of golden-brown dough, spotted with large chunks of gourmet, mostly-molten chocolate. The sweet scent of caramelized sugar wafted up directly into Twilight's nostrils, eliciting an instinctive rumble in her stomach. When had been the last time she'd eaten, anyway? And, while not as sweet-obsessed as her friend Pinkie Pie, Twilight knew how to appreciate a properly prepared pastry when she saw one.
At the opposite end of the table, half a league away, Luna recieved an identical platter with an identical cookie. Presumably identical, at least-- it was impossible to tell at this distance. The Princess of Dreams and Darkness waved a cheery hoof in Twilight's direction, and then started to devour her own cookie.
At seeing Luna dig in so enthusiastically, Twilight followed suit-- albeit at a slower, more refined pace. She broke a chunk of the cookie off and popped it into her mouth-- only to nearly choke as the sweet, warm deliciousness took her off guard. Still oven-warm, the cookie was nearly liquid, bathing Twilight's tongue in chocolatey goodness. And as if that wasn't enough, the center of the cookie was made from peanut butter-- adding just a hint of thick, creamy resistance to her palate. Despite herself, Twilight let out a faint whimper of pleasure-- thankfully, with Princess Luna sitting at the other end of the table half a league away, there wasn't anypony to hear it. Pinkie Pie would have to meet whoever baked this cookie, Twilight decided. Heck, Pinkie Pie would probably marry whoever baked this cookie. Twilight smiled, then opened her mouth to say as much--
--and couldn't.
Between the chocolate and the peanut butter, the cookie clung to the inside of Twilight's mouth in a thick, even layer. Twilight blinked, and held a hoof up to her mouth for politeness' sake as she looked for something to drink ... when the realization hit her.
There were no glasses in front of her.
Meanwhile, at the other end of the table, Luna daintily sipped from a small glass of milk. She glanced up, arched a brow, and then smiled.
“I trust you are enjoying the baked delicacies, Twilight? Is there anything else you require?”
“Mmfffph.”
“My apologies, I cannot hear you. Perhaps you might speak louder?”
“Ynnh plhhnd dsh.”
“Ah! I see the staff has failed to provide you with libations. I shall remedy this..” Princess Luna clapped her hooves together, then turned to bellow in the direction of the kitchen. “Garcon!”
Within moments, a bow-tied waiter appeared with a glass of milk, tall and cool to the touch. Twilight tried not to look too desperate as she chugged it down, washing the delicious (if uncannily sticky) peanut butter cookie dough down her throat. A quick run of her tongue along her gumline cleared the last bits of dessert out of her mouth, and she finally found herself capable of speech.
“I said, you planned this.” Twilight tried to put some extra volume behind her voice, but the high vaulted ceilings and empty space of the ballroom swallowed the sound up just as surely as she'd swallowed that cookie.
“One moment, friend Twilight.” With that, Princess Luna disappeared in a blink of magic, reappearing next to Twilight in a short-range (if slightly impolite) teleport.
“That was kind of a dirty trick.” Twilight grumbled, and dabbed at the corner of her mouth with a napkin.
“I apologize. But sometimes a lesson must be learned in rather ... unorthodox manner. But now, do you not see the utility-- the necessity –of the Traditional Royal Canterlot Voice?”
“Kinda? I guess?” Twilight sighed, and rubbed at the bridge of her nose. “But ... I can tell this is very important to you, so I guess it couldn't hurt to work on my ... projection.”
“Huzzah!” Luna perked up, surprisingly bright for somepony typically associated with darkness. “Then prepare yourself, friend Twilight, for your training shall commence on the morrow!”
The sheer force of Luna's voice woke Twilight in an instant, banishing vague dreams of a seraglio entirely populated by hardworking pastry chefs. Twilight flailed wings and hooves, tangling herself in the sheets before she rolled off the opposite side of the bed.
“How are you up so early?” With bleary eyes, Twilight squinted at the first few rays of morning sunlight shining in through the window.
“Technically, I am staying up late.” Luna said. “But do not worry for me-- I have taken a nap, and therefore I am rested.”
“Must be nice.” Having been awoken so suddenly, Twilight's courtly decorum was the first to go.
“It is! My brief respite was quite refreshing-- as I hope yours was!”
“Do you have to talk so loud?” Twilight took refuge beneath a pillow.
“I do! How else am I to set a proper example?” Luna boomed.
“But ... um, what if you wake up someone else in the castle? Your voice kind of, um ... carries.”
“Of course it does! That is the purpose of the Traditional Royal Canterlot Voice, is it not? Why, the very sound of my voice-- or that of my sister –was once a welcome sound in these halls! To hear the Traditional Royal Canterlot Voice was a comfort to ponies, letting them know their benevolent protectors were nearby!”
“Was that what they told you?”
“It was, yes.”
“I see.” Twilight rubbed at her bleary eyes. “But ... um ... if it's all the same to you, it might be a little more comforting to be a just a teensy bit quieter? Please? I promise I'll study the Traditional Royal Canterlot Voice as soon as I'm fully awake.”
“Very well.” Princess Luna toned herself back to a more modest boom, the sort that only shook windows instead of shattering them. “But pay attention, friend Twilight! For you have much to learn in a short span of time. Tally ho!”
And off they went.
“To speak is to breathe.” Luna said.
Despite her earlier exuberance, the first place she took Twilight was downright peaceful. Luna flew on for about half an hour before she circled down to land on an empty dock, jutting out into a bend of the Reine river. Apart from the dock, there was no immediate sign of civilization's hoof-- trees on either side of the wide blue river blocked Twilight's line of sight, leaving nothing but a quiet, sleepy morning on the river. Fish flopped about in the slow-moving water, and literal early-birds began to tweet and sing. Whether or not said birds got the worm was a matter of debate.
Luna's hooves clicked softly against the aged wood of the dock as she landed and walked to the end. Twilight followed-- more or less awake at this point (if sorely decaffeinated).
“Without proper breathing technique, you shall never muster the strength to truly harness the Traditional Royal Canterlot Voice. Thus, your lessons start here.”
“Right!” Twilight nodded. Even though she'd been rudely awakened less than an hour ago, the opportunity to learn (not to mention her innate need to place first in any class) took precedent over whatever fatigue or indignation she might have felt. “So ... what should I do?”
Luna closed her eyes. “Breathe.”
“Oh. Um. Okay.” Twilight said, and did just that.
She pulled a deep breath in through her nose, drawing in the wet, grassy scent of the Reine river. She exhaled through her mouth, then repeated the process, getting into a slow, instinctive rhythm. She glanced at Luna from the corner of her eye. The Princess of Dreams and Darkness remained still, save for the subtle rise and fall of her sides as she just ... stood there.
Twilight did the same.
Before long, Twilight had to admit that Luna might just be on to something. She'd woken Twilight (along with most of the rest of Canterlot palace) early enough that the river-- that all of Equestria, likely –was still trapped in the stillness of dawn. For the first time in ages, Twilight realized she didn't have any checklists to review or schedules to follow. All she had to do was stand there and ... breathe.
“You know,” Twilight blithely broke the brief silence. “This is a lot easier than I thought it would be.”
“What is?” Luna cracked one eye open to peer sidelong at Twilight.
“Breathing.” Twilight said. “That's ... what you told me to do, isn't it?”
“Indeed it is. So breathe.” Luna said, and shoved Twilight off of the dock.
Twilight yelped in alarm. One moment she was standing placidly, doing her best to follow Luna's lesson, and the next, she ... wasn't. She splayed her wings out, awkward, but the dock sat low enough to the river that she had no time to properly take flight. Twilight hit the river in an awkward splash, a noseful of cold, fishy-smelling water flowing up both nostrils.
As Twilight sank down towards the bottom of the Reine, she found an odd sort of contentment in the realization she had several options. A force bubble to hold breathable air around her head would be the simplest solution. Alternately, she could go a more elegant route, and attempt a full-body transmogrification into a seapony (riverpony?). Though, Twilight realized, that sort of magic was a lot harder without Queen Novo's help--
Twilight decided on a short-range teleport, instead.
Princess Luna didn't flinch as Twilight materialized next to her in a burst of magic, though she did take a polite step back, shielding herself from the ensuing splash of water with an upraised wing.
“What was that for?!” Twilight said once she'd sneezed most of the riverwater from her nose. “I could have drowned!”
“Could you?” Luna said, prim. “But I thought you said breathing was easy.”
“I-- oh.” Twilight sputtered. Deflated. “Oh.”
“My sister was right about you. You learn quickly.” Luna smiled, and shook a few droplets of errant riverwater from the tips of her feathers. “To properly speak with The Traditional Royal Canterlot Voice-- one must master one's breathing. Maximize it. Optimize it. So that every breath is unto the first gulp of air you take upon emerging from the water. Only then will you be able to maintain sufficient volume.”
“Why did you have to have a point?” Twilight groaned, and shook water off of her coat in a downright canine fashion. A small green frog hopped out of her mane, landing back in the river with a 'plonk.' “Is it all going to be like this?”
“Like what?”
“You know, like ... this. I mean, I've read about this kind of thing before.” Twilight looked up at Luna. “The master takes the student out on a bunch of seemingly innocuous activities and teaches lessons through various kinds of mindless chores and/or creative but arguably sadistic exercises and somehow that's enough to impart the lesson. Like in Daring Do and the Secret of the 36 Chambers, y'know?”
“I'm not familiar with it.”
“I'll loan you a copy sometime.” Twilight said. “And in return, um ... could we just kind of ... skip the rest of the bits where you throw me off of things so you can make your point? I mean, uh, I kind of respond a little bit better to a classroom setting. Not to mention that I thought something like the Traditional Royal Canterlot Voice would just involve stuff like ... diction, y'know? Speaking from the diaphragm, that sort of thing? Could we focus on that? Please?”
“Very well.” Luna said, with the faintest hint of a shrug. “I shall be happy to take an approach that better suits your preferences. Now come, your feathers should dry out by the time we reach the palace.”
And off they went.
“Page twenty six.” Luna said.
This was more like it.
Obligingly, Twilight opened the thin book to the indicated page. She knew she was learning something, because Luna was finally using proper research material. Of course, Daisy Doggerel’s Book of Rhymes, Jokes, and Tongue Twisters (abridged), wasn't the first title Twilight would have picked as a textbook, but it still had some merit. And so, Twilight cleared her throat, and read the words aloud, taking special care to perfectly enunciate each syllable.
“A box of biscuits, a box of mixed biscuits, and a biscuit mixer.” Twilight's voice carried through the otherwise empty ballroom. The long table was gone, along with the decadent cookies, though Twilight wasn't sure if she should have been relieved about the fact or not. Still, she had lessons to concentrate on-- ones that were far more compelling than getting pushed into a river.
“Good, good.” Luna said with an approving nod. “Now, page sixteen.”
“If a dog chews shoes, whose shoes does he choose?”
“Page forty two.”
“To begin to toboggan, first buy a toboggan, but don't buy too big a toboggan. Too big a toboggan is too big a toboggan to buy to begin to toboggan.”
“You are doing quite well, Twilight.”
“Thank you?” Twilight took a moment to stretch her jaw out a little. “I have to say, this is more of what I had in mind when you said you were going to give me speech lessons.”
“Indeed.” Luna said, slightly less imperious than usual. Slightly. “In such a case, I wonder if you're ready to demonstrate your progress?” She waved one hoof airily-- and as if on cue, the doors at the end of the hall opened up, revealing a harried-looking unicorn pony at the head of a small gaggle of rambunctious foals and fillies.
“Allow me to introduce Miss Bookbinder, and her third grade class. They've come to the palace on a field trip.”
“Oh! Hello!” Twilight waved a hoof, cheery. “Nice to meet you!”
“Hi Princess Twilight.” Miss Bookbinder's third grade class unisoned. The children gently jostled against each other, half of them trying to get a better look at Twilight, while the other half tried to put the more curious ponies between themselves and Princess Luna.
“You have come at a fortuitous time.” Princess Luna kept her voice down to a low rumble. “Princess Twilight is practicing her pronunciation-- would you care to hear what she has to say, class?”
“Yaaaay!” Cheered Miss Bookbinder's third grade class.
“Princess Twilight, page thirty seven.” Luna said.
“Sure!” Twilight nodded, turned to the indicated page, ran her eyes over the words--
--and stopped.
“Um. Princess Luna?” Twilight splayed her ears back. “Are you ... sure you meant page thirty seven?”
“I am certain.”
“Are you?” Twilight squeaked. “I mean, uh-- I'm sure Miss Bookbinder and her class would like to see something other than a ... speech lesson. Like, uh ... the library? The gardens? The kitchens? Literally anything else?”
“Read. The. Page.”
Twilight looked between the adoring gazes of Miss Bookbinder's students and the stern, teacher's glare of Princess Luna, and did her best to ignore the rapidly rising flush to her cheeks. She grit her teeth, forced a smile. She took a moment to breathe-- several, actually, but sadly there no sudden natural disaster or marauding magical monster to interrupt her. Seeing no other means of escape, Twilight cleared her throat, and read the listed tongue twister as clearly and carefully as she could.
“I am a pleasant pheasant plucker. I pluck mother pheasants. I am the most pleasant pheasant plucker to ever pluck a mother pheasant.”
Miss Bookbinder gasped.
Her students cheered.
Luna smiled.
“Okay thanks for listening but I should be going now bye!” Twilight rattled off, and immediately teleported away before any of the third graders could repeat the tongue twister and/or start asking inconvenient questions.
No sooner had the haze of teleportation magic cleared, there came another hiss-snap of spellbound energy, and Princess Luna materialized next to Twilight Sparkle.
“I expected you'd retreat to the library.” Princess Luna said as she glanced around the empty stacks. “Now, are you ready to continue your training?”
“Continue? Continue?” Twilight's cheeks turned scarlet. “Do you know how embarrassing that was?”
“I don't see any reason why it should be.” Princess Luna shrugged, faintly. “You spoke passably well.”
“But it was ... it was inappropriate! Do you know how many angry letters those parents are going to send once their children go home and start repeating that ... that ... whatever that was? Heck, I should write an angry letter! To you! Right now!” Twilight started looking for pen and paper.
“If some childish mischief is the worst Miss Bookbinder has to worry about today, then she is lucky. The same can be said for you, Twilight. You may master TheTraditional Royal Canterlot Voice sooner than I anticipated.” Luna's words set a few of the older bookshelves to shaking, and neatly
“So I can teach children swear words?”
“So you may speak, Twilight.” Luna said. “Consider this practice-- today, all you have to worry about is a handful of fillies, in a matter of ultimately no importance. But, in a crisis, lives-- nay, the fate of all Equestria –may hang in the balance. When you speak with the Traditional Royal Canterlot Voice, there must be no question as to what you have said. Each and every word must be pronounced clearly, perfectly, so there is no question as to your intention.”
“Oh no.” Twilight groaned, slumped into a nearby chair, and massaged her temples. “You're making sense again. You've really thought all this through, haven't you?”
“Of course I have. Now, are you ready to resume your studies?”
“I ... guess so?” Twilight managed. “But ... if the alternative is traumatizing Miss Bookbinder's third grade class ... I think we can just go back to the part where you push me into the river.”
“Hnuh?” Twilight Sparkle pried her eyes open, however unwillingly, to look up at the blue pegasus hovering above her bed. “Rainbow Dash? What are you doing here?”
“Checking in on you!” Rainbow Dash circled around above Twilight in a way that made the princess of magic think of vultures. “You've been in Canterlot for a couple of days longer than you said you would, so I'm here to make sure you're okay and haven't been replaced by a changeling or a clone or something.”
“Oh! Um. Thank you?” Twilight rolled out of bed-- and immediately regretted it, as several days of Luna's unorthodox training regimen caught up with her. “What time is it? What day is it? I'm sorry, I've ... I've been busy. But I'll be back in Ponyville before long, I promise.” Twilight hobbled over to her wardrobe mirror and set about combing her mane back into place. “Also I'm not a changeling or a clone.”
“Are you sure?” Rainbow Dash rubbed at her chin as she peered at Twilight from behind.
“You saw me sleeping, didn't you? A changeling wouldn't be able to hold the illusion while unconscious-- not to mention most of the changelings are reformed nowadays anyway –and a clone wouldn't have my memories, and therefore wouldn't know your name, Rainbow.” Twilight fought down the yawn that would have interrupted her lecture.
“Okay, it's definitely you.” Rainbow Dash said. “But what's so important that you're stuck here in the palace all the time? Is it save-the-world kind of magic stuff? Because you know I'm always up for that.”
“I know.” Twilight sighed, and turned to face her friend. “And trust me, if Equestria needed you, I'd tell you. But right now, I'm just ... working with Princess Luna.”
“Working? On what?”
“Elocution.”
“Whoa.” Rainbow Dash held her hooves up to her mouth. “No wonder you look like crap. Did she make you lick a battery?”
“Wait what?”
“Or did she stick your hoof in a wall socket?”
“My hoof in a--” Twilight shook her head, realizing she had not slept nearly enough for this. “Not electrocution, Rainbow. Elocution. Princess Luna has decided to help me with my ... diction.”
“Whoa! Too much information there, Twilight. I didn't think you even had a--”
“Rainbow!” Twilight snapped. “Get your mind out of the gutter!”
“Sorry, sorry.” The pegasus retreated a few wingflaps. “I've just been hanging out with Fluttershy a lot lately.”
“What Princess Luna has been helping me with is The Traditional Royal Canterlot Voice.” By reflex, Twilight stood up straighter as she said it, but her voice cracked, failing to reach the proper window-rattling volume.
“You mean that cool thing she does where she yells at you so loud it feels like your bones are gonna fall out?”
“Yeah, that.” Twilight said. “She says that since I'm a princess now, it's something I need to learn. But ... “
“But?” Rainbow Dash canted her head to the side.
“I can't do it!” Twilight said, admitting it more to herself than to her friend. “I mean ... I'm trying, but I just can't get it right. And I should! It's just talking really loud, you know? It should be simple, but every time I seem to miss the point and then Princess Luna throws me in a river. Or through a thundercloud. Or off a mountain.”
“Brutal.” Rainbow Dash said.
“And if I can't do something as simple as talk really loud ... then what if I'm really not cut out to be a princess to begin with?” Twilight said.
“Whoa whoa whoa.” Rainbow Dash said. “Hold up there. I thought you were like, past this? I mean, look at you! You've got wings, Twilight. You've had them for years. And you wouldn't have them unless it was because of your magical friendship destiny or whatever. So you shut up with that 'oh I'm not worthy' junk, because you totally are!”
“Thanks for the encouragement, Rainbow.” Twilight smiled, then wiped a wan tear from the corner of her eye. “But ... it's still frustrating, you know? Not to mention exhausting.”
“That's because it's supposed to be.”
“It is?”
“Of course!” Rainbow Dash said. “It's just like Wonderbolt training, you know? You just break a pony down, bit by bit, so you can build them up again! Commander Spitfire says you're not really a Wonderbolt 'til you've broken down crying in the locker room at least once.”
“Really?” Twilight blinked. “When did you--”
“Anyway!” Rainbow Dash barged on. “Why don't you let me help out? Like, I'm really good at making lots of noise and stuff, right? It'll make things easier if you've got somebody going through the same process as you! And heck, how awesome would it be if I could do that scary shouty thing too?”
“The Traditional Royal Canterlot Voice is not some charlatan's trick.” Princess Luna strode through the doors to the guest chambers, which Rainbow had accidentally left open.
“She never said it was?” Twilight said.
“Yeah!” Rainbow Dash glided to the ground beside Twilight. “I don't even know how to charlatan!”
“Sssh.” Twilight nudged her friend in the side, and then smiled over at Princess Luna. “What Rainbow Dash meant to say was ... well, she'd never use something so important as the Traditional Royal Canterlot Voice in a trivial manner. In fact, uh-- wouldn't it be a good idea to train more than one pony? That way, you know, as a backup. In case I get sick or something-- that way Rainbow Dash can fill in in case I'm a little hoarse.”
“You would delegate something as important as The Traditional Royal Canterlot Voice to another pony?”
“Well ... yes? Delegation is an important part of leadership-- and there aren't very many ponies who I trust more than Rainbow Dash.”
“Very well.” Princess Luna turned an appraising look onto the prismatic pegasus. “But I warn you both-- this training shall be arduous indeed. This is not a path to be followed lightly, Rainbow Dash, for it could very well lead to your destruction.”
“Cooooool.” Rainbow Dash said. “So when do we start?”
And off they went.
“Here.”
A long teleport and a longer flight had brought them to the edge of a rocky orange desert. The steady, dull ache of exertion throbbed through Twilight's wings, though neither Princess Luna nor Rainbow Dash looked any worse for the wear. Undoubtedly, this was some sort of endurance exercise, Twilight concluded. One that thankfully seemed to be ending, as Luna led her two erstwhile students down into the shade of a steep-walled canyon. Gravel crunched beneath hooves as the three landed, and Twilight tried not to sigh in relief too loudly.
“Oh oh oh, I get it!” Rainbow Dash said, bouncing on her hooves. “Lemme guess-- this is one of those where you can hear your yourself shout back if you do it right? Like this! ECHO!” The pegasus yelled loud enough to lift herself up off the canyon floor.
“Echo. echo. echo,” came a faint, if not quite acoustically perfect response.
Princess Luna arched a brow. “Your enthusiasm is commendable, Rainbow Dash-- but that is not why I have brought you here. Your assignment is a different one. A simpler one, even. You are two enter that cave--” Princess Luna pointed to a wide, jagged opening in the canyon wall, shielded from view by deep shadow. “--and speak with who you find inside.”
“That's it?” Rainbow Dash blurted.
“Indeed.”
“Creepy haunted cave conversation. Got it.” Rainbow Dash reared up to fly inside, only for Twilight to catch her by the tail at the last moment.
“Uh-- anything else we need to know?” Twilight said. “Like, um. Who's inside? What they want to talk about? Or literally anything else that might come in handy before we blindly walk into a dark cave we've never seen before?”
“I'm certain you shall figure it out.” Princess Luna made a 'shoo'-ing motion with one hoof. “Now go. You still have much to learn.”
“You heard the princess!” Rainbow Dash tugged her tail free of Twilight's grip, and plunged into the dark cave.
“Rainbow!” Twilight nearly tripped over her own hooves in her haste to keep up. “Be careful!”
“Why be careful, when you can be awes- OW!”
“Rainbow! You're hurt!” Twilight followed the sound of her friend's voice, deeper into the cave. She lit the tip of her horn with a simple spell, casting the rough sandstone in clean, white light. It didn't take her long to find her friend sitting on the floor of the cave, rubbing at her face.
“It's fine.” Rainbow Dash shook her head to clear it. “I just hit my face, that's all.”
“I know it's the last thing you want to do, but could you please slow down? I mean, who knows what's in this cave?”
“I think Princess Luna does.” Rainbow Dash said.
“That's what I'm afraid of.” Twilight helped her friend back on her hooves, and then took the lead, walking down into the cave at a far more manageable pace. Every so often, she used a beam of magic to etch an arrow into the cave walls, showing which way they'd gone. The tunnels weaved and wandered, twisting in over themselves.
“It can't be that bad!” Rainbow Dash said. “She just told us to go in and talk to somebody, that's all.”
“Yeah, but who? What if there's a dragon living in here? Or a ghost? Or some other kind of monster?”
“Then I could fight it and it would be totally sweet.”
“Princess Luna didn't send us in to fight anyone, Rainbow. She told us to speak with who we find inside ... oh! Maybe it's a friendship lesson? We're really supposed to speak to each other?”
“But we talk all the time!” Rainbow Dash said.
“Okay, got me there. Unless ... maybe Luna wanted us to speak with who we find ... inside. Like ... inside ourselves? The darkness and isolation of this cave doesn't leave much of anyone else to talk to, not to mention the acoustic properties of the echoes ... the metaphor lines up. And it'd be pretty similar to the kinds of lessons Princess Luna has been trying to teach me. Except she hasn't pushed me off of anything just yet.”
“I ran into a wall, does that count?”
“Maybe.”
“Cool.” Rainbow Dash sat down on the cave floor, and glanced around. “So we're just ... supposed to talk to ourselves, huh? That's easy. A little crazy, but easy.” She grinned, then splayed her wings out, using the light from Twilight's horn to make crude shadow-puppets upon the wall.
“Hi there Rainbow Dash, how are you?” Puppet one said.
“I'm totally freakin' awesome, Rainbow Dash. And so are you.” Puppet two went on.
“Oh dude, how did you know?”
“Because I am you! And I'm awesome! Which means you're awesome! Which means we're both awesome!”
Rainbow Dash then stopped her puppet show so she could air-guitar.
“Man, I think Princess Luna is onto something here.” Rainbow Dash said after a few mimed power chords.
“I ... don't think that's what she had in mind.” Twilight said, carefully. “Just ... um ... relax, I guess? And ... breathe. That's it.” Twilight wasn't sure if she said it more for Rainbow's benefit or her own. She closed her eyes and pulled in a deep breath to steady herself-- it didn't wash the tired ache in her wings away, but it at least put things into perspective. If nothing else, at least she had one of her best friends with her, which made the training a little more manageable. Rainbow had been right in that respect (if little else). “We'll ... just have to figure things out. Somehow.”
Rainbow Dash, in the meanwhile, stared at her (frustratingly boring) friend. “Are you sure it's gonna be deep inner dialogue stuff?”
“It has to be.” Twilight said, attempting (and failing) to reach some sort of inner epiphany.
“Then, uh, what's the giant snake here for?” Rainbow Dash said.
“The what?” Twilight snapped her eyes open, applied some extra power to her light spell-- and found herself staring at the biggest serpent she'd ever seen. Its head took up the entirety of the tunnel, so big that Twilight could only focus on individual features, rather than the whole. Glowing eyes with slitted pupils. Glinting, knife-shaped fangs, just poking out from the snake's mouth. A forked tongue, thick as a fire-hose, flickering out to taste the air-- and graze over the tips of Twilight's wings.
The snake hissed.
Twilight screamed.
Saber-long fangs glinted in the darkness as the enormous serpent struck. Still screaming, Twilight threw up a shield spell by reflex. The snake's teeth caught on the edge of the magical shield, propping the monster's mouth open to reveal its cavernous gullet.
Still operating on reflex, Twilight grabbed hold of Rainbow Dash and triggered an emergency teleport. Magic flashed, and half a heartbeat later, Twilight found herself squinting against the midday sun. Luna's shadow fell over her as the Princess of the Night looked downward at the terrified pair.
“And what have you learned, friend Twilight?” she asked.
“Snake!” Twilight blurted. “Big snake!”
As if on cue, the faint rustle of scales on rock echoed from within the cave as the serpent slithered out into the daylight. It reared up-- and up, and up, tall as one of Canterlot Palace's towers, dwarfing even Princess Luna with its bulk.
“Hail, serpent.”
The snake hissed, splaying its hood out to reveal itself as an enormous cobra.
“Hath my student met you well?”
“It tried to eat us!” Twilight said, still clutching Rainbow close in case she had to teleport again.
Luna arched a brow. “I shall take that as a no.”
The snake hissed again, but shrank back nonetheless.
“What is the state of this world, that the Queen of Cobras forget the laws of hospitality?”
The Queen of Cobras flicked her tongue, then narrowed her eyes, looking over to where Twilight and Rainbow still clung to each other, their terror giving way to simple befuddlement.
“If her manners were remiss, then this is something I shall have to instruct her in. A task made more difficult if she were to be consumed. Regardless, I apologize for the intrusion, and bid you good day.”
The giant snake turned its baleful gaze back onto Luna, gave a derisive snort.
“I said, I bid you good day.”
With that, the Queen of Cobras had enough, and slithered backwards into the cave, as smoothly as if somepony had set a film reel in reverse.
“Uh.” Rainbow Dash spoke up once the tip of the Queen of Cobras' nose disappeared into the darkness. “What just happened?”
“The queen--” Luna paused, then cleared her throat before continuing at a quieter (though no less authoritative) tone. “The Queen of Cobras-- like her subjects, is somewhat deaf. One needst use The Traditional Royal Canterlot Voice to be heard. I had hoped you would be able to discover this for yourself, but perhaps my expectations were too high.”
“Wait.” Twilight finally let go of Rainbow Dash, all the better to trot up towards Princess Luna. “Let me get this straight. You sent me, and my best friend, into a dark cave to meet a giant snake that tried to eat us, all because we didn't speak to it in The Traditional Royal Canterlot Voice, which we both know I can't actually do?”
“That is a correct summation, yes.”
“Are you trying to kill me?”
“I have no reason to, friend Twilight.”
“Well you could've fooled me!” Twilight threw her hooves up in frustration. “You know what? I'm done. We're done. No more. I was fine when you pushed me into a river, I was fine when you embarrassed me in front of impressionable schoolchildren, but I'm drawing the line at giant snakes trying to eat me and my friends! If I'm going to be a Princess, I'm going to be my own princess, and the hell with anyone who says otherwise! I've gotten by so far without The Traditional Royal Canterlot Voice, and I'll keep getting by without it! And if you don't like it, Luna, then you can just shut the buck up because I don't care anymore!” Twilight glared up at Princess Luna, sides heaving. Faint crackles of errant magic boiled away from her horn and wings, crackling in the air like ether-powered punctuation. The magic faded, however, as the echo of Twilight's voice rolled back from the other end of the canyon, still powerful enough to make the stone walls faintly tremble.
“I'm ... I'm doing it, aren't I?” Princess Twilight Sparkle held a hoof up to her mouth, shocked. “The Traditional Royal Canterlot Voice.”
“This may be the coolest thing you've ever done.” Rainbow Dash said as she peeked up from behind a nearby boulder.
Luna didn't bother concealing her smile. “And ahead of schedule, too.”
“This has been your plan all along, hasn't it? You just kept pushing, and pushing, and pushing, until I finally got mad enough to talk ... like this?”
“Indeed!" Princess Luna stood fast in the face of Twilight's hurricane-force projection. “And now that you have mastered this skill, we shall return to Canterlot to celebrate your victory!”
“But ... I ... you-- ARGH! WHY DO YOU HAVE TO KEEP MAKING SENSE!?”
“'tis a curse, sometimes.” Luna said with a little shrug.
“Okay fine. But ... one last thing.” Twilight shifted a little, stepping out of the furrows her hooves had dug in the gravel as the force of her shouting pushed her backwards. “How do I ... how do I turn this off?”
“I'll teach you, in good time.”
“Oh no you're going to put me in a crystal-ware shop so I'll break everything if I keep talking like this, aren't you? Or put me in the middle of a maternity ward so if I speak too loud I'll wake up all the babies and make them cry? Or ... or ... you'll make me talk to Fluttershy while I'm like this.”
“I dunno, she might be into it.” Rainbow Dash said.
“Rainbow!”
“Where's the lie?” Rainbow Dash said, even as she tumbled end-over-end down the length of the canyon, propelled by the force of Twilight's voice.
“Hah! You are wiser than your years, friend Twilight. I should have expected as much from my sister's favorite student. But enough palaver-- 'tis time to return to Canterlot, to celebrate! Just think, soon, every pony for leagues around shall know the comfort of your thunderous voice!”
