The Sun Stands Alone

You find her standing alone on her balcony, looking up at the night sky.

 

"Um, Princess?"

 

If you hadn't known the princess for as long as you had, you might not notice the tiny jolt running up her spine, the kind one would normally find much more pronounced in someone when broken from from a state of solitude.

 

And as much as she may try, Celestia cannot hide it from you.

 

She turns to you, smiling as recognition dawns on her. "Please, you know that title is not necessary at a time such as this. Come." She opens a wing, gesturing for you to join her on the balcony. You nod, approaching but uncertain. The princess was your friend, certainly, but you'd never been privy to such a personal moment. And now she wants you to join her, alone, on her private balcony? You shake the thoughts off and stand next to her, if not a comfortable distance away.

 

You search the sky, trying to find exactly what it is has her fascinated, but can find nothing in particular.

 

"I always thought you were one more for the daylight." It's all you can offer in the way of smalltalk; never been good with it, especially around the princess.

 

"So I am. But it is good to appreciate the other side of things every once and a while. I know my sister puts a great amount of effort into it."

 

"Do you ever tell her? That you appreciate it, that is." A hand automatically goes to the back of your head. That sounded so corny.

 

"I do, but there is always room for improvement there." She looks over to you. "And which do you like more? Day or Night?"

 

"Heh," you say, jabbing Celestia with an elbow. "That's a loaded question and you know it."

 

She smiles back. "Maybe."

 

You cross your arms, catching a scent of Celestia, a sweet daisy mixed with the light fragrances of her flowing mane. It wakes you up a bit just breathing it in. "What do you think about out here?"

 

"Oh, things." Her smile turns coy. "About my subjects, my sister... my friends. Many things. It differs from day to day. I wonder what you're thinking about."

 

Your initial thought is to reply, 'You,' but the word feels funny in your head, so you shrug instead. "I guess I think about things, too."

 

"Mm hmm. There are so many to think about." Her words come out passive, almost... stoic. An odd sort of detactment for even Celestia. You cautiously take a step closer to her and gently lay an arm on her back, hand stroking her neck and mane. The effect is near-instant, a heavy sigh escaping Celestia's lips as your touch seemingly evaporates a hidden weight.

 

She extends her wings, hooking one around you and pulling you closer, though her serene face is still toward the sky, almost as if she's too afraid to face you. You're alright with that; you understand the feeling, though you imagine Celestia's long life may have made her more detached than you could ever hope to empathize with.

 

"You ever wonder how to tell if you made the right choices, did the right thing? Second-guess yourself?"

 

The question catches you off-guard, but you offer what you can. "We do the best we can, Princess. Second-guessing is only good for running around in circles."

 

"I told you—" She sighs and shakes her head. "It seems you'll call me princess whether I like it or not, hmm?"

 

"Maybe."

 

"That's fine." Her wing tightens on you, pulling you in close enough where you can feel her heart beat. "Do you feel like sitting down?"

 

"I like it out here."

 

"Then we shall sit here." She sits as much as a pony can sit on her haunches, and you take a spot beside her, not hesitating this time. Her wing unconsciously unfurls and wraps around you again while you put an arm around her.

 

"Don't you wish you could fly?" she asks.

 

"The sky is great, but there are better things down here."

 

She eyes you carefully, trying to determine if you mean what she thinks you do, but ultimately turns back to the sky without comment.

 

"Day, I think."

 

"Hmm?"

 

"You asked me which I like more, day or night. I say day because I've always thought the sun had an interesting sort of beauty."

 

"And how is that?"

 

"You can never look straight at it, but you know it's there. It's everywhere, really, effects plain where ever you go, whether it be bringing life to plants, putting a smile on a face or a spring in someone's step, or even if all it's doing is lighting a room up, you know it's there, even if you've never really seen the star itself." You pause, still unsure of your next words, but speak them anyways. "I'd like to see it, though."

 

"The sun is very old. Old, apathetic and boring, even. It fulfills it's role well without the fluff."

 

"I dunno, I think there's more to it. What good's a smile without the sunlight to see it?"

 

She leans her head on your shoulder, vision blurred with forming tears. Before a single one falls, however, she turns to you, kisses your neck, and whispers two simple words.

 

"Thank you."

 

"You're welcome, Celestia."