Nonpareil of Favor by Anonymous


                                            >The foyer of Canterlot Castle was all but overrun by this point – hundreds of guests, all crammed together within the interior walls.

                                            >Primarily nobles, from what you could tell, with the odd photographer wandering about and snapping pictures of the exceedingly lavish attendees.

                                            >Fitting, that they’d be so eager to leech off of such an important event.

                                            >One of them flashes their camera in your eyes, scuttering away with their prize before you even have a chance to object.

                                            >Things had gotten so hectic inside that a large number of guests opted to instead wait outside, admiring the beauty of the gardens if only to placate their growing impatience.

                                            >The walls had been intricately decorated with all manner of garlands and drapings, the vast majority of them following a strictly blue color scheme, directly at Luna’s behest.

                                            >Blue is her favorite color, after all.

                                            >Speaking of Luna, the overwhelming size of the crowd probably isn’t making things easy on her. The noise from the foyer alone is enough to echo deep into the inner halls of the castle, extending so far that you could easily hear it from your own private quarters.

                                            >There’s little chance she isn’t aware of the crowd’s ridiculous size, even from her isolated changing room.

                                            >You can’t imagine having to muster up the courage to face so many people, but then you’re also grateful you probably won’t ever need to.

                                            >Public appearances like that are reserved for the princesses, as the land of Equestria rather uniquely holds no formal precedent for sons being treated as heirs to the throne.

                                            >Which makes sense, since prior to your birth, the rate of males born directly to the royal family stood at a neat zero percent.

                                            >Lucky you.(?)

                                            >You excitedly pace about the foyer, ensuring things are as perfect as can be.

                                            >The band is still playing? Check. The chefs working in the kitchen have ample ingredients? Perfect. The guards aren’t slacking off and leaving the entrances unmonitored? Wonderful!

                                            >You can’t afford things going wrong now, so close to the big event.

                                            >As you make your way past the central staircase once again, your attention is pulled by a familiar voice calling out to you from up above.

                                            >”Anonymous!”

                                            >That prompts you to look up to where the voice originated, near the upper right-hand doorway leading into the second story halls.

                                            >There, peeking out from behind said doorway, was the strikingly bright visage of Celestia herself.

                                            >Princess Celestia, that is. Your eldest sister.

                                            >With a newfound sense of panic churning deep within you, you quickly rush through the crowd congregated at the base of the stairs, passing by the guests with several hurried utterances of “sorry” and “excuse me”.


                                            >You run up the stairs as fast as your legs will allow, thoughts racing with sudden worries. Had something gone wrong? Was Luna missing? Oh stars, you should’ve known this would be too much for the poor girl…

                                            >Panic apparent on your face, you come to an abrupt stop within the upper doorway, out of sight of the nobles in the foyer and directly in front of Celestia.

                                            >She’s dressed beautifully, wearing the same white dress and golden adornments as she had on the day of her own coronation. If you weren’t so panic-stricken, you would’ve considered paying her a well-deserved compliment.

                                            >”What’s wrong?” you ask, desperate to fix the issue before it became too late.

                                            >Her demeanor, unlike yours, was inappropriately relaxed given the apparent catastrophe underway. With a playful smile on her face, she responds:

                                            >”Nothing,” she says cheerily, “nothing at all.”

                                            >It takes a moment to process her words. Then, all at once, you’re swallowed by a flooding sense of relief, that is quickly replaced with annoyance both at yourself for jumping to conclusions, and at Celestia for distracting you from your continued inspections.

                                            >“Please, Celestia…” you start, already turning to head back down into the foyer, “we don’t have time for-“

                                            >Your movement is stopped by the appearance of a remarkably soft hand on your arm, gently pulling you back into place in front of your sister.

                                            >You oblige, and let yourself be turned to face her. She dons a motherly expression of concern, and her grip on your arm loosens into something more tender, now slowly moving up and down the length of your bicep.

                                            >Almost immediately, you feel your panic fade away as the warmth of her touch seeps through your sleeve, calming your frayed nerves. She has that effect on people, you’ve come to realize over the years…

                                            >”Anonymous,” she speaks, voice as smooth as silk, “dear brother. You should really let yourself relax.”

                                            >You scoff. “Celestia, I appreciate the concern, but with all due respect, now’s hardly the-“

                                            >”This is your fifth time around the perimeter, is it not?”

                                            >You’re not actually sure – it’s not like you’ve been keeping count or anything. Also, has she been watching you this entire time?

                                            >”It never hurts to be careful, you know.”

                                            >”Perhaps it does, if that crazed look in your eyes is any indication.” She giggles, a serene sound that fills you with warmth just from hearing it.

                                            >Her other hand comes up to grip your own, pulling it back along so she can securely hold it in in front of her.

                                            >Her thumb rubs small circles into it, a gesture you can’t help but find solace in.

                                            >”I assure you, Anonymous, the guards can handle any issue that may arise.” She looks over your shoulder, into the crowd of nobles impatiently standing around in the foyer.

                                            >”You have friends here, do you not?” she asks, turning her eyes back to meet yours.

                                            >”Y-yeah, what of it?”


                                            >”Go, catch up with them. I’ll keep things running smoothly from here on.” With that, she (regrettably) removes her hands from your person, instead bringing them up to spin you around by your shoulders.

                                            >Again, you oblige, and with you now facing the main staircase, she gives you the slightest push back towards the crowd. Really, it’s more of a gentle suggestion that you make your own way out, rather than any serious attempt at forcing you.

                                            >Regardless, you find yourself inclined to obey. Your legs take small steps out of the doorway, and Celestia sticks closely behind, maintaining the mild pressure on your back the entire time.

                                            >”A-alright. But I’ll be out here if your need me, OK?”

                                            >”But of course,” she says, her breath warm on your neck.

                                            >”Hey,” you say, resisting the soft push to turn and face her once again. “I’m serious. Don’t work yourself to death on my behalf.”

                                            >”Now, when have I ever done such a thing?” She smirks, and you know it’s meant as nothing more than a joke, but that doesn’t make it any less worrying.

                                            >”All the time,” you reply, curt and dry. Your response prompts another giggle, before she turns you around once more and pushes yet again, trying to get you back downstairs once and for all.

                                            >”Well,” she whispers, head coming to a temporary rest on your shoulder, “I promise I’ll act in moderation this time. Go enjoy yourself, Anonymous.”

                                            >”Fine, fine. I’ll see you afterwards, alright?”

                                            >”As if I’d let you avoid it.”

                                            >You’re the one to laugh this time, finding yourself filled with a newfound confidence in everything. Celestia has experience with this type of event – if she’s so sure of it, then maybe there really is nothing to worry about?

                                            >With your own resigned smile, you give Celestia a small nod, before departing and making your way back down the stairs and into the crowd of nobles.

                                            >The sheer amount of people makes getting around somewhat difficult, but you manage well enough.

                                            >You’re sure you saw Fancy Pants near the main entrance of the castle during one of your (apparently numerous) trips around the foyer – it would be nice to catch up with him, if only to distract yourself from the wait.

                                            >Slowly but surely, you make your way over, all the while keeping an eye out for the man in question.

                                            >Only, on your approach, your disappointed to find no trace of him. His wife, however, is unmistakable in her presence.

                                            >You don’t know Fleur de Lis quite as well as her husband, but you’re also desperate enough for any kind of distraction that you can’t be too bothered over that fact.

                                            >Fleur looks over as you approach, eyes sparking with the recognizable light of familiarity. Eagerly, she waves you over, a silent request which you’re happy to fulfill.


                                            >She truly is beautiful, you can’t help but notice. Before you were formally introduced, you planned on making a joke about Fancy “marrying a supermodel,” only to discover she was, quite literally, a supermodel.

                                            >And it’s no wonder she chose such a career – her tall posture, her slender form, and her perfectly fair skin… you’d be hard pressed to find any better example of true, innate beauty.

                                            >In fact, she reminds you a great deal of Celestia herself.

                                            >……….

                                            >Which is kind of a weird comparison to make, in retrospect, but whatever.

                                            >”Ahh, Anonymous!” She lowers the drink in her hand, opening her other arm to accommodate you in a sort of half-hug.

                                            >Hoping to not offend her, you oblige, reaching in and placing your arm around the small of her back. She smells of lilies, delightfully understated, yet equally pleasant.

                                            >The smell lingers even after your separation, and you step back from the brief hug to greet her properly.

                                            >”How are things, Fleur?”

                                            >”Oh,” she starts, in that signature posh inflection of hers, “just wonderful, thank you for asking. Though I’m afraid you just missed my husband.”

                                            >”Oh?” Odd, normally Fancy wouldn’t dare miss such a high brow event unless his life was at stake. Maybe even not then, either.

                                            >”Ahh, yes…” she says, voice reflecting her sudden downcast mood, “I’m afraid he had to leave early for, how do I put this?... a ‘business opportunity’ of sorts.”

                                            >”I see,” you reply, somewhat disappointed at the prospect of not having one of your few friends present.

                                            >”Yes, most unfortunate. And I’m sorry to say that such an important opportunity has to remain ‘under wraps’ for now, as the common folk would say.” She giggles at herself, seemingly finding some guilty pleasure in using the language of said “common folk”.

                                            >You like Fancy and Fleur well enough, but at the end of the day, they’re still nobles – not the most genuine company you could keep, in all honestly.

                                            >“Ahh, well, that’s understand-“

                                            >“Oh, if you insist!” She dramatically looks left and right, suspiciously eyeing the few surrounding passersby and making sure they aren’t listening in. Satisfied, she leans in close.

                                            >Uncomfortably close, in your opinion.

                                            >Under her breath, she whispers: “My dear husband has struck a deal with a local fashion designer of this small town due south – ‘Ponyville’, have you heard of it?”

                                            >”Well-“

                                            >”She’s wonderful! Remarkably talented, and like the true business mogul he is, my dear husband has first dibs on her work! Soon enough, we’ll have several high-end boutiques up and running in Canterlot as well!”

                                            >She leans back and starts doing an odd little dance in place, evidently struggling to contain her enthusiasm. “Oh, it’s all very exciting, is it not?”

                                            >It’s really cute, but the rational part of your mind does its best to shut that train of thought down before it has a chance to depart from station.


                                            >”Sure sounds like it, Fleur.” She accepts your answer, smile growing all the wider.

                                            >Suddenly, the distinctly sharp sound of trumpets puncture through the ambiance of the foyer, cutting all conversations short as everyone turns their attention to the main staircase.

                                            >”Oh!” comes the voice of Fleur to your left, “Oh, it’s starting!”

                                            >Your heartbeat picks up tenfold, and your body tenses. This is it, the single most important hour of her life.

                                            >Only, from your current spot near the entrance, you can’t even see the main staircase unobstructed. This won’t do, not at all.

                                            >”If only Fancy were here…” mewls Fleur, expression reverting back to its former disappointed state.

                                            >With a sudden idea, you turn to face her once again.

                                            >Unfortunately, you currently lack the time or cognitive ability to stop and think about the weight of your actions.

                                            >”Here,” you say, reaching out to grab Fleur’s hand within your own, “come on. I’ll get us a better view.”

                                            >”Oh, wonderful!” She quickly sets down her unfinished drink and does her best to match your frenzied pace. May as well help reverse her sour mood, right? Fancy would probably appreciate it.

                                            >Without thinking about how severely your handholding crosses the boundaries of common courtesy, you pull Fleur along with you and rush to take a spot next to the main staircase.

                                            >There’s a small makeshift barrier set up around said staircase, blocked off by barrier ropes and a small handful of guards, ensuring nobody can sneak past into the main castle halls.

                                            >With a small nod to the guard on the right, you pull one of the barrier ropes down and step across, Fleur following in afterwards.

                                            >Quickly, you place the barrier back to its original spot and walk over to the side wall, giving both you and Fleur the best possible viewing angle of the central staircase.

                                            >Celestia’s assistant, (“Raven”, you believe?) is the only other occupant of this makeshift VIP area, and on your approach she scoots over slightly to accommodate you and your guest.

                                            >The trumpets sound out once again, and your attention is brought to both of the upper level entrances, from which lines of trumpeters march out in formation.

                                            >They make their way down the steps, only stopping once they’ve fully lined either side of the staircase.

                                            >From the main entrance of the castle, guards begin pouring in, slowly carving out a path in the sea of nobles and ultimately leaving a empty space along the red carpet spanning the length of the foyer.

                                            >They then take position on either side of the carpet, maintaining a clear path from the entrance up to the central platform of the staircase.

                                            >All to ensure a safe trip for the woman of the hour.

                                            >You can see Celestia walk in first, calmly waving at the crowd as she slowly makes her way along the red path marked beneath her.


                                            >Her movements are as enchanting as ever; it’s obvious from the sight alone that she has years upon years of experience with these sorts of appearances by now.

                                            >Her gaze, as well as her subdued waving, are directed somewhat aimlessly across the crowd until she spots you from your position near the staircase.

                                            >She gives you another, smaller wave with a pleased smile on her face, as if to say “See? Everything’s fine.”

                                            >Good. She knows what she’s doing, so if she’s satisfied with the state of things, then that’s an immense weight off your own shoulders.

                                            >Already feeling more relaxed, you lazily return her wave, not realizing that your other hand was still gripped firmly around Fleur’s. For her part, she was far too engrossed in the spectacle to either notice or care.

                                            >The trumpets sound once more, and you see the silhouette of another familiar figure emerge, following a few steps behind Celestia.

                                            >She’s wearing a blue dress that falls well below her feet, extending behind and getting dragged along with her nervous movements.

                                            >Her hair is tied up in what looks like a complex combination of a bun and a ponytail, topped off with a decorative medallion in the shape of the crescent moon.

                                            >Her pale skin nearly glows in the overwhelming light of the foyer, an aura which is only accentuated by the dark makeup she’s adorned with.

                                            >She’s absolutely stunning.

                                            >Luna, like her sister before her, slowly makes her way along the red carpet while greeting the crowd with small waves of acknowledgement. Only, her waving is visibly timid, unsure amidst the scrutiny of so many nobles.

                                            >She does her best to not let that uncertainty show, but you know the signs by now. Her free hand is tightly gripping the skirt of her dress, spinning it around in little circles. Her gaze is jumping from place to place, never resting for more than a second. And her smile, small and reticent, feels as inauthentic as can be.

                                            >Similarly to Celestia, she continues looking around even after addressing the nobles, until her eyes come to rest squarely on you. Excited to see her for the first time in what felt like days, you wave out, only to get absolutely nothing in return.

                                            >Rather disappointing, from your perspective. Perhaps the nerves are simply too much for her? She’s never liked being the center of attention before, after all, and that wouldn’t immediately change just because she gained the word “princess” in her title.

                                            >”How beautiful…” comes a whispered voice from your left, startling you out of your thoughts. You’d almost forgotten Fleur was even here, honestly.

                                            >It’s then that you become aware of your hand, still intwined with her own. With a small tug, her grip loosens just enough for you to pull it away – an action she doesn’t seem to even register, so hopefully no offense was taken on her part.

                                            >You’d hate to appear as if you were coming on to the wife of a good friend.


                                            >Carefully, Luna follows along the path that Celestia marks out for her, the both of them slowly making their way across the foyer, up the stairs, and onto the central platform of the staircase.

                                            >The single most visible spot in the room. You’d hate to be Luna right now, having the eyes of basically every single guest on you all at once, terrified out of your skin that you’d mess something up.

                                            >Having reached their destination, Celestia pulls back for a minute, leaving Luna directly in the limelight for all to see. She seems to be maintaining her composure well, only occasionally looking at either Celestia or you, as if seeking confirmation that she’s doing nothing wrong.

                                            >You give her a small thumbs up when she glances over, but she still makes no effort to return the gesture.

                                            >From the upper left-hand doorway emerges a servant, bearing an outfit adorned with the mark of the sun. She’s holding a small pillow, on which rests a jagged crown, dark blue in sharp contrasts to Celestia’s own golden headpiece.

                                            >The servant approaches Celestia with her head bowed down, offering up the pillow without ever daring to make eye contact.

                                            >As soon as Celestia picks up said crown, she scurries back through the doorway she came in from, once again leaving the two sisters alone on the central platform.

                                            >Celestia, as gracefully as you’d come to expect of her, turns back to approach Luna once more, delicately coming to a stop directly in front of her.

                                            >Luna’s focus, previously scattered across the waiting eyes of the crowd, comes to rest solely on her sister. Her body relaxes, a clear sign of the comfort she finds in their shared proximity.

                                            >With the most caring smile you’ve ever seen her muster, Celestia whispers something under her breath, a private message from one princess to another.

                                            >Luna only gives a small nod in return, before bowing her head down slightly and closing her eyes in wait.

                                            >As gingerly as if the slightest rushed movement would cause it to break, Celestia then places the crown on Luna’s head, adjusting it slightly to ensure a proper fit. It was custom made for her, so finding that perfect fit doesn’t take too long.

                                            >As soon as Luna raises her newly crowned head, there’s an incredible eruption of noise from the nobles filling the lower level. The music picks back up at full force, as the trumpeters and guards previously standing in formation make to finally leave.

                                            >The party’s back on, it would seem. Luna flinches slightly at the harsh outburst, a motion that’d be imperceptible to anyone that wasn’t paying such close attention to her as you are right now.

                                            >“Simply magnificent!” comes the voice of Fleur, her eyes sparkling with complete and utter admiration. You’re glad she’s back in such high spirits again.

                                            >”Yeah,” you mumble, attention still fixed on your sisters, “it was, huh?”

                                            >”Oh dear, you must be so incredibly proud!”


                                            >You are, of course. More than you could ever put to words, so you only give a small nod in response.

                                            >Most of the crowd has already returned to their initial activities, with a small minority instead opting to leave outright. Things feel a little less hectic already, as if any semblance of tension has been drained out, and all that remains is a communal feeling of satisfaction.

                                            >And it’s no wonder – things actually went well for once! How often does that happen?

                                            >A handful of photographers push their way through the diminished crowd, snapping whatever pictures they can of the newly coronated princess from their spot in front of the staircase. In response, Celestia and Luna pull away, moving slightly more out of sight towards the wall.

                                            >You can see them talking to each other up there, orientated away from the crowd below.

                                            >”Oh, Anonymous,” starts Fleur, pulling your attention back to her for the first time in a while, “I absolutely must thank you for the view.”

                                            >”O-oh, don’t mention it Fleur,” you mutter, suddenly feeling sheepish under her grateful gaze, “what are friends for?”

                                            >You give her a small smile, and she reciprocates in kind, yet doesn’t say anything else. The silence extends uncomfortably long, until…

                                            >Fleur lunges forwards, throwing her arms around you. She’s hugging you again, you realize, and hesitantly you return the gesture.

                                            >There’s that smell again. You almost feel guilty for how much you enjoy it.

                                            >She’s a married woman, Anon. Married to a friend at that.

                                            >Don’t get any wrong ideas.

                                            >Fleur pulls away, holding you at an arm’s length with her hands still placed firmly around your shoulders. Her touch is warm, bleeding through the fabric of your suit.

                                            >She really does remind you of Celestia.

                                            >”Do promise you’ll come visit us again, sometime?” she says, eyes filled with genuine gratitude for what you’ve done. It feels nice to be the target of such reverence, though it does seem a little exaggerated given how little you’ve actually done for her.

                                            >”Of course I will.” you respond, giving the arm still placed on your shoulder a small, reassuring pat. “I still need to catch up with Fancy sometime, don’t I?”

                                            >”I’ll be holding you to that, dear.” Fleur winks, giving you a satisfied little nod before removing her arms and turning to depart back into the crowd of nobles.

                                            >She’s awfully touchy-feely, isn’t she? It’s not something you’re used to, at least not coming from people you aren’t directly related to.

                                            >Speaking of, when you turn your sights back onto your sisters, you’re surprised to see the both of them staring directly at you.

                                            >Luna shies away at the sudden eye contact immediately, turning her side to you and facing her sister once more. Celestia, on the other hand, maintains your shared gaze perfectly fine, whispering something to Luna while giving you another small wave, all the while wearing an especially amused expression.


                                            >Left confused, you can only return her wave in kind. What was that all about?

                                            >From your right, small footsteps make their way over, closing the already small distance towards you.

                                            >”It’s exciting, isn’t it?” says some unfamiliar voice, now directly beside you.

                                            >Hmm? Oh, Raven’s talking to you. You can’t recall ever holding a legitimate conversation with her, since most of her assistant duties are exclusive to Celestia herself, as she’s technically the only royal member of the family. Or rather, she was before today.

                                            >”Yeah,” you respond, almost unsure of how to talk to her after all this time as mere acquaintances. “It is.”

                                            >Your attention doesn’t move from the central platform, still trying to find any clue about what that little exchange was all about.

                                            >”Are you worried for her?” That’s enough to draw your attention fully to Raven.

                                            >Her expression is compassionate, as if she’s acutely aware of the feeling herself.

                                            >She probably is, now that you think about it. She’s been here since before even Celestia’s own coronation – if there was anyone who’d know what you were going through, it’d likely be her.

                                            >”I… a little, I suppose.” Doesn’t hurt to be honest, and truthfully it feels good to divulge those feelings to one of the few people present you can trust to not turn around and sell whatever you say to a tabloid magazine.

                                            >”That’s only natural.” Her eyes, even through their compassion, have that distinctly worn air after so many years (maybe even decades?) spent in service of the castle. It’s clear she’s speaking from experience now.

                                            >”But with all due respect, sir, Luna is more resilient than she lets on. You of all people should know that.”

                                            >It’s true. Distaste of public appearances aside, you’d be hard pressed to find anyone stronger willed than Luna; the sheer fact that she got through her coronation at all stands as a testament to that.

                                            >You doubt you’d fare nearly as well, in her position.

                                            >”Yeah, I do know that.” Once again, you turn your attention back to Luna, at her spot on the central platform. Her and Celestia had already begun the slow descent towards the base of the stairs, likely to have at least some manner of socialization with the nobles before they make their formal exit.

                                            >“A-and if it’s any consolidation, I may have some friends I could recommend for the position of her assistant?”

                                            >Raven bears a small, hopeful smile when you turn back to look at her. It’s rather out of place on such an official looking woman, and the sight is almost enough to make you laugh, though you suppress the urge in time.

                                            >The idea, however, does spark some interesting thoughts. It’s true that Luna could use some help to lessen the workload that comes with being a princess. And, though you wouldn’t dare mention this to her, she could definitely use some companionship beyond just you and Celestia.


                                            >Maybe Raven knows some handsome young man who could fill the position?

                                            >”Get back to me on that, Raven. I might have to consider the offer.”

                                            >She smiles, giving a small bow in appreciation. “Thank you, sir. I promise I won’t let you down!”

                                            >You’ll have to look into that later – could be beneficial, perhaps?

                                            >With that settled, Raven runs off, leaving you alone beside the central staircase. Celestia has Luna standing at the base of the stairs, posing against her will for some photographer.

                                            >Poor girl looks like she could use an excuse to leave right about now.

                                            >You begin making your way into the main crowd of the foyer, past the barrier ropes and into the thick of it all.

                                            >Even crossing such a small distance proves a mild struggle, but sure enough, you eventually come into view of your sisters.

                                            >Neither of them have noticed your approach yet, at least not until you step out of the sea of nobles and onto the staircase itself.

                                            >Celestia is the first to see you, beckoning you over with her arm while once again whispering something to Luna.

                                            >In response to whatever she was just told, Luna turns around herself, eyes aglow at the sight of you. There we go, some actual acknowledgement for once…

                                            >Despite the fact that your were already making your way over, Lune separates from her sister and rushes to close the gap between you. As quickly as her cumbersome dress and heels allow her to, that is.

                                            >Soon enough, she’s standing right in front of you, still nervously gripping the skirt of her dress with mildly shaking hands.

                                            >There’s a brief period of silence, as you take another chance to appreciate just how much more beautiful she is up close. Truly, every single detail of her form was attuned to perfection, from the subtle adornments resting in her hair to the surprisingly detailed pattern lining the bodice of her dress.

                                            >You’ve never seen her so dolled up before. Your brain feels like it has to take a second before recognizing the woman in front of you as your own flesh and blood.

                                            >”Hey,” you greet her. Simple as it needs to be – she may be a princess now, but she’s still your sister first and foremost. The same sister who’s been by your side her entire life.

                                            >No need for formalities.

                                            >”Hey,” she says in turn, leaving the both of you standing and simply observing each other with bated breaths, unsure of how to proceed from there. The weight of her newfound title stands heavy, like a shadow looming over the both of you.

                                            >She’s the first one to break the quiet tension, rushing forward with her arms spread wide open. You mimic her stance, and the both of you end up entangled in a tight hug, with her head coming to a rest directly under yours.

                                            >Even with her in heels, the size difference between the two of you is pretty noticeable.

                                            >”How’s it feel?” you ask, keeping your voice low and comforting. She’s already been overwhelmed enough for a lifetime, after all.


                                            >”…scary,” is the only reply you get, whispered under her breath as if to avoid letting anyone else hear.

                                            >About the answer you expected.

                                            >You just give her a small reassuring laugh in response, letting your right arm slide up to start rubbing a small circle into her back, warming up her cold skin in the process.

                                            >”Yeah, I would’ve figured.”

                                            >She lets out a relaxed moan at the sensation of your hand, letting herself fall deeper into the embrace. The moment, as nice as it is, goes on for perhaps a little too long.

                                            >Looking up, you’re met with the faces of innumerable nobles staring directly at the two of you, and at least a handful of photographers shamelessly snapping photos for their own respective tabloids.

                                            >Bloody vultures, she’s barely been a princess for five minutes and she’s already being wrung dry for the sake of some sad excuses for journalism.

                                            >Celestia, in particular, seems to find plenty of amusement in the sight, observing from afar with her own smug smile. She gives you a thumbs up when your eyes meet.

                                            >You cough, suddenly hyper aware of yourself and eager to stop attracting attention. With a gentle push, you pry Luna off of you, though not without some noticeable resistance.

                                            >Ultimately, though, she obliges and allows you to push her an arm’s length in front of you.

                                            >Her new crown practically glows atop her head, brilliantly reflecting the sunlight pouring through the stained glass windows and giving her outfit the final royal touch it needed.

                                            >She matches the visage of a princess well.

                                            >”You look amazing.”

                                            >She blushes, breaking eye contact in favor of looking down at the floor.

                                            >”T-thank you,” she says, voice barely above a whisper.

                                            >From behind her, footsteps indicate Celestia’s approach, as she comes and places her own hands across Luna’s shoulders.

                                            >”See, dear sister?” Her tone is playful, almost childishly so. “Even Anonymous agrees.”

                                            >Luna huffs, and all at once you feel the tension between the two of you melt with the introduction of Celestia’s presence.

                                            >”Yes, yes, I’m aware,” she spits out, clearly annoyed at what must be an ongoing argument.

                                            >Celestia just giggles, letting her head rest on Luna’s shoulder as she turns her attention back to you.

                                            >”Rest assured, none of this came to pass without her constant struggling. My, poor Sassy practically had to tie her down to keep her steady!”

                                            >She laughs, a full hearty laugh this time around, that you can’t help but join in on.

                                            >Luna groans, but the smile plastered on her face speaks to the comfort she felt being amongst family, as opposed to nobles whose names she’d forget by the end of the day.

                                            >”Well,” you say, “in my humble opinion, it was well worth it.”

                                            >”Agreed,” purrs Celestia.

                                            >”Not like I had much of a choice, regardless,” Luna retorts.


                                            >”Now, sister, don’t be like that.” Celestia’s playful smile gave way to something more empathetic, ever the naturally supportive figure she is.

                                            >”Yes, I know already, ‘princesses have no time for such pessimism,’ right?”

                                            >”Well, she’s not wrong Luna,” you interject, “you’re gonna have to start keeping up appearances from here on out.”

                                            >Her expression drags into something more dull at the mention of her new duties. Seems you’ve killed the friendly mood the three of you have been fostering.

                                            >”Come now, Luna, it’s not all bad.” Celestia looks around, noting the crowd still mingling lower down in the foyer. “Just another half-hour speaking with the guests, then we can simply enjoy the ball for the remainder of the day. Doesn’t that sound exciting?”

                                            >”Not particularly.”

                                            >”That’s the spirit!” With an exaggerated smile, she begins pulling Luna back into the crowd of nobles, though not without giving you a little knowing wink.

                                            >She’s been doing those kind of gestures a lot today. You still can’t fathom why.

                                            >Regardless, you wave her goodbye, now donning your own smile. Things have officially gone well, and now you were free to relax until the celebratory ball later on. You could use the extra time to get prepared, anyway.

                                            >As you make to leave for your private quarters, however, you hear Luna’s voice cry out.

                                            >”W-wait!” With a small struggling movement, she wriggles out of Celestia’s grasp, and runs back towards you.

                                            >”Anon!”

                                            >What now?

                                            >You turn around to face her, yet when she reaches you, she doesn’t immediately say anything. Instead, she stands around for a few seconds, seemingly struggling to formulate what exactly she wants to say.

                                            >Eventually, she does speak up, though with a surprisingly uncertain inflection: “You’ll come back later, yes? For the ball?”

                                            >That’s it? Shouldn’t have taken that long to force out…

                                            >”Well, as much as I’d like to say no, I doubt Celestia would let me.”

                                            >Speaking of, Celestia was still observing the exchange from her original spot, donning a familiar smug smile. Really, it’s starting to freak you out by now - what does she know that you don’t?

                                            >Luna, apparently satisfied with your answer, simply replies with a small nod of her own. She doesn’t say anything else, however, or even make any move to depart.

                                            >She’s just standing there, looking as if she wants to say something else, but never actually doing so.

                                            >”Luna,” you says, placing a hand on her arm and using the other to grab her own, “don’t worry about me. I’ll be there, alright?”

                                            >Your thumb starts rubbing small, reassuring circles into her hand, while your other own free hand begins gently rubbing up and down the length of her bicep.

                                            >This probably won’t work as well coming from you, but it’s worth a shot.

                                            >”Go enjoy yourself. Make a friend or something. I’ll see you at the ball.”

                                            >”A-alright, Anon…”


                                            >You smile, giving her a final pat on the shoulder before moving to withdraw both arms. She resists letting your hand go for a second, remaining focused on it as it moves back to your side.

                                            >Seems like it worked, for the most part. You’ll have to thank Celestia for that strategy at some point.

                                            >With your final reassurances given, you turn to finally remove yourself from the overcrowded foyer, eager to return to the quiet privacy of your own quarters.

                                            >Things are dying down, slowly but surely. Luna should be fine under Celestia’s supervision from now on.

                                            >Not like you could help that much if anything serious arose, anyway.

                                            >You push your way through the dwindling crowd, passing over the temporary barrier rope and into the main western hall of the castle, unaware that a certain set of blue eyes were still trained on you all throughout your departure.

                                            >Best go get ready.