I think, maybe at one time, I had something poetic to say about this. I had but one moment where I felt the world would blossom in front of me, and pure poetry would spill from my pen. I felt once that I could be indescribably eloquent, and she would weep before me, in awe of my immortal sorrows.
That moment has passed. Perhaps I took too long in approaching the page. Perhaps I was distracted by the court. Routine as it was, it does demand some small ounce of attention, if only to put the correct names in the right places. Did their rote actions dull my brain, my wit?
Perhaps I never had the words in the first place. I often suspected the court lies to me about my poetry. It’s probably awful, but who’s to criticize their Princess? No pony dares whisper a word of dissent. Not out of fear, but undying, gushing, kowtowing love.
So then why, Twilight Sparkle, do you of all ponies refuse the love of your ruler?
Do you feel that because you have gotten close to me that you have the right to refuse? That you are allowed free will in picking what your heart desires? I have allowed you such privileges, you have earned your respect all around the country. Some see you near my equal, as high as those atop the pillars of the royal court.
But status was always meaningless to you, you have no concept of it, paid it no mind. Not the only lesson you knew more in theory than in practice. Simple child…
Yes, do you refuse because I knew you as a child? Because you aged and I was there to watch and help you grow? Forgive me, mortality tends to place some value on generational gaps. But would you deny an immortal her right to love someone, because she was simply so, so very much older than all others? I’ve told you before, I outdate all life you could care to point out. Even the most eldest of dragons do not remember the time of my birth, not even in their fireside tales.
Perhaps it is because you have known me before in a sort of platonic relationship, for all those years… And if it will assure your mortal conceptions, I as well saw them in a platonic light. No, if I must be honest, I may have seen you as something special. But only as a chimera is special, or a dragon. In need of special attention for what danger, what ability they pose. It is how my life diverted towards you, how my eye fell upon you, I admit that. Such a bright star in my midst, impossible to ignore its light, fascinating for its brevity.
For, Twilight Sparkle, your life is just that. A brief one. Your youth brief, and your adult life only slightly longer. I, and hopefully you, will see that long stretch to the grave as an opportunity. Youth is meaningless, and now it is time to make your mark on the world. Do you desire to be a paragraph in a foal’s history book?
Or do you wish to be sung about as a legend?
I’m sorry I have to resort to bribing you like this, but recall please, my confession.
I do love you, Twilight Sparkle. I love you like I have loved no other pony. I discarded such an emotion so, so very long ago. And you somehow rekindled it, sparked its flame. My passions have not been reawakened, there is no physical side to this feeling. It is true and clear, and emotional attachment that I wish to have for how brief you will exist in this realm.
Perhaps I was a bit excited to reveal it to you, I certainly was beside myself.
But to reject it in fear? In horror and shock? To laugh me off and retreat away from me, to the safety of your old room? To Luna…
You are mistaken, Twilight Sparkle. Surely, mistaken.
And I do hope that you come to your senses soon.
I will be waiting.
Dear Author,
WHAT?! The Princess, in love with me?
That’s… that’s impossible! There’s no way! And I’m with Princess Luna? Did I read that right?
Okay, right, I should calm down. It’s just a story after all.
This was a very creative interpretation of the Princess, I must admit. I can’t imagine her feeling that way about me. And she seems so much… darker than the pony I know. It was a little scary to read.
Still, thank you for your story!
Sincerely,
Twilight Sparkle
Oh Tyrant Celestia, I missed writing in your melodramatic, self absorbed style. Heck, I missed writing these thirty...