Post by Bardigan on Sept 4, 2012 21:34:06 GMT -5
(This is two RPs in one, but I decided to include them both since they happened within moments of each other, and for context.)
Manners are something that go in one direction - towards princesses. So it is completely without warning that Bardigan's life is enveloped in blue light, there's a lurch, and he's dropped onto the rug in Luna's bedroom, lit by the fireplace and by the sparkling starlight of the princess's mane. She lounges on her side on her bed, regally long and fluid, with only her head lifted. Her expression and voice, alas, are their usual official implacability as she greets, "Playwright. We will speak with thee."
It seems Bardigan had been in the middle of something when Luna wrenched him out of it. Something loud and dramatic, by the way he's on his hind legs with one hoof over his heart, the other in the air, and his wings outstretched. And appears to be singing opera. "-AAAAAAAAAaaaaa- oh." He trails off as he realizes the blue light wasn't just some offensive new stage lighting. His eyes dart back and forth while he spins in place till he makes note of Luna in her bedroom. A shudder runs through him as if he just about jumped out of his skin, and he swiftly turns around and slaps himself, pauses and mutters something, then turns back to the Princess of the Moon and prostrates himself. "Your highness! Your pleasure is mine. What needs be spoken of?"
Luna has long legs, which allows her to extend one off the edge of the bed, her silver shod hoof held low and pointed out towards Bardigan. "We thought it best to let thee recover after thine performance, but now we have a moment to discuss the play we commissioned. Tell us of thy opinion. From a backstage perspective, did it come off well? Were the tickets significant? Thou must know we have great hopes for thy and the Dreamy Eyed Mare's thespian careers."
Bardigan stands again, eyes wide. He looks flattered and flustered at the same time, and it takes him some shuffling about to get his composure back. But once he starts, it's hard to stop. "I... to be honest, it was one of the greatest successes of my career. Played in the royal palace? With all of Canterlot *and* the glorious personage of you and your sister in attendance? The ticket sales were not astronomical, but it certainly exceeded the success *I've* known so far. Critics varied in their opinions, but what of that? It was the exposure that mattered! I... I was happy with the performances of everypony, maybe there were one or two hiccups, but nothing that can't be fixed, and then there was the accolades that came after! The names of me and my compatriots... more importantly the story we told... is spreading through all of Equestria! Come off well is an understatement, your highness. I couldn't have been happier to be a part of it."
Well, that was not exactly the right thing to say. Luna grimaces, and her leg is withdrawn back onto the mattress. "Yes, of course it has," she acknowledges solemnly, downright fatalistically. Her wings ruffle, causing the bed to bounce a bit since she's lying on one. Raising her head higher, she looks down at Bardigan with an expression and voice returned to careful neutrality as she tells him, "Do not interpret this as the play being a failure, but it is our wish that the performance in the palace be this play's ONLY performance."
Bardigan's smile quickly droops. In fact, almost everything about him does. He's the picture of chastisement as he tries to process what he just heard, but then an expression of acceptance, if not understanding, comes over his face as he gives a firm nod. "Of course, your highness," he answers. "I'll make sure the rights to it are kept close to my chest to prevent any repeat performances." He struggles not to bite his lip. More words are on the tip of his tongue, but as this discussion quickly turned into a command, he's uncertain whether he should voice them. She's let him be bold enough so far... "If... I may ask... the play was for your sister, yes, but... did *you* take offense to it?"
Luna sighs hugely, grunting in frustration at the same time. Her head flops down with it, and then she rolls onto her back, wings spreading and all four legs sticking up in the air. Her tone becomes sharp and childish with frustration, but her emotions are certainly no longer suppressed. "So be it. We owe thee honesty. Our feelings are very mixed, playwright. Thy performance was masterly, and so well did thou portray Horizon's feelings that we grieve anew at his fall. Dreamy Eyes captured our sister's unfailing grace and nobility as perfectly as she did our madness. The lesson of the play was not what we asked for, yet we approve wholeheartedly. By all means, let ponies understand we are not perfect, that our power and responsibility was thrust upon us, and we are but ponies bearing it as we may. It did well enough reminding our sister that we are together again and her lonely rule is ended. BUT..." She inhales sharply, and her head lolls to the side so she can look at you directly again. "The lesser objection is that it unsettles our pride to suggest we picked Horizon by some contest and not personal affection. The true and greater objection is that we shall not have our ponies believing that ever, EVER we took our responsibility to them lightly."
This must be the part where I die. Or so the expression on Bardigan's face hints at what he's thinking. He has that wide-eyed, shocked to stillness expression a convict might have. When no green beams of zapping death come his way, he lets out a gentle sigh of his own and scuffs at the floor with his hoof. "I knew I should've struck that," he mutters, mostly to himself. "Your highness, to even imagine I brought shame, or heaven forbid a slight to your door is..." The poet is lost for words here as he struggles to think of what to say. "I allowed leeway to my actors in portraying their roles, it is true, but... the responsibility is on my shoulders. I should've..." He breathes in sharply and looks towards the balcony. "Well, I could go on forever about 'should.' I might ask to be forgiven, but that would sound presumptuous. I suppose I can say I am sorry. And I did give my all to this production. To making it something that would make you..." He knows what he *would* say, but now he's not so sure. So he chooses, "Satisfied."
Luna rolls onto her side again with a 'flumf', and then more gracefully gathers herself up onto her stomach, legs tucked beneath her. Stern again, she says, "Our mark remains upon thee, Playwright. Our favor thou possess. The play is a masterpiece, and we do not anticipate it harming what is left of our reputation - so long as it is not repeated. Much about it was... flattering." She tilts her head down and to the side, her lips curling in just the slightest trace of a smile as she pauses to give Bardigan a very direct look in the eyes. Then that moment ends and she concludes, "But the element that troubles us cannot be removed without destroying the play, and it troubles us too greatly to allow. Do thou understand how great both our pleasure and displeasure is, playwright?"
"If I did any more, I fear my heart would burst from conflicting feelings," Bardigan answers, shaken by both Luna's approval and lack of such in one sitting. His hoof gently brushes his mane, near where the mark is located, and will likely remain as long as he can keep it there. He's not smiling, but he's not bawling for forgiveness either, but somehow both of those thoughts make him sad. "To bring you honor is something I desire above much save a very few things, your highness. It would only be a masterpiece to me if it gladdened your heart. Your favor is the bonus. I am yours for whatever else you may require, in spite of these, ah... prickly bits."
Twilight_Sparkle makes her way into the chamber. She peeks her head in first, as discreetly as she can, not wanting to disturb the royal goings-on unnecessarily. Seeing Luna talking with Bardigan, she determines not to interrupt what has all the hallmarks of an Important Conversation. She quietly makes her way to a cushion out of the way, and sits; she magics a book in from somewhere, and opens it, reading. Still, she doesn't try to hide the fact that she's eavesdropping, one ear angled in the direction of the conversation.
Luna raises her voice, not going all Royal Canterlot on him, but still firm and commanding. "Continue to write, Playwright. Continue to act. If thou wish us to be the subject, we have no objections. Portray us as shining star or abominable monster or simply a pony like other ponies, as thou will. Greatly shall we be pleased regardless. But do NOT portray us as unconcerned. Had we known there was even a chance of The Night Of Two Moons occurring..." She trails off, shaking her head. Then she sighs. "Thy audience is at an end. We wish to retire and commune with the shadows, and be assured that our ponies sleep safe and protected tonight."
Bardigan bows again, hiding his wince under his hat. "Of course, your highness. I know you will keep them safe." He begins to back out of the room, and it's only then he notices Twilight Sparkle. He gives her a short look, then glances back over his shoulder to Luna. That lingers for a fraction of a second before he goes on his way and exits stage left.
Twilight_Sparkle folds her book closed, magics it back to wherever it came from (the library, presumably), and gets up. She knows when not to disturb Princess Luna, but Bardigan...could use a kind word, now, possibly, and since she also has spoken with Luna about this subject, she has some idea what must be going through the poet pony's head. She follows Bardigan out of the chambers, calling after him. "Bardigan...wait up."
Bardigan stops mid-step in the hallway, distracting himself with thoughts on how to get out of here with some dignity instead of just launching himself out of a window. "Miss Sparkle?" he asks, turning to face her and reflexively bowing his head to her, expression and tone mostly neutral. "The pleasure is mine. I didn't expect to see you up here... well, that's silly, of all ponies *you* would be allowed in chambers like this."
Twilight_Sparkle smiles, a little self-consciously. "I sort of come and go as I please, here at the palace. I did spend a lot of my fillyhood in these chambers..." She glances back over her shoulder. "It was different before Luna came back. But I guess I won't bore you with reminiscing." She looks into Bardigan's eyes a moment; even having only caught the very end of that conversation, she guesses Bardigan is feeling more than he's wearing on his face. "Are you headed home?"
"I was." Bardigan flaps his wings once, but he returns her short stare, as if to tell her something without saying anything. "But I'm one for being proper and hoped to find the front door from here. Good luck with that, right?" He tilts his head inquisitively. "Did you have somewhere else in mind?"
Twilight_Sparkle laughs softly. "The place is a bit of a labyrinth. I always suspected that was by design. Do you feel like having a cup of coffee or a drink, with me?"
Bardigan's eyebrows go up just a bit, more out of surprise than amusement. He looks away, focusing on a vase just to their right. "I... I think I'd like that," he says, quietly. A library kind of voice. He looks back at Twilight and a little smile plays on his lips this time. "Yes, I think I'd like that very much."
Twilight_Sparkle smiles. "How well do you know Canterlot? If you don't have a favorite spot, I'm sure we can find one."
Bardigan scratches his chin, looking upward into his own cache of memories. "Oooh... there's an adorable little place just outside the palace, near the edge of the city. You can see the waterfalls outside the walls from there. It's very out of the way. I love it for that reason." He gently tosses his head down the hall. "I know the way if you'll get me out of here! Shall we?"
Twilight_Sparkle smiles. "It's a deal! Tell you what. Let's get out of her via my current preferred method of travel, and then we can walk the rest of the way." She winks, and then there's a flash of light, and both ponies are standing outside, on the street.
/=/
Bardigan staggers as they end up on the streets of Canterlot, shaking himself like a dog to clear his head. "Oh my," he gasps, grasping his hat. "I'd get used to that if I had more warning beforehoof! Do you know Princess Luna has a habit of doing that at most inopportune times?" he asks Twilight, taking a deep, bracing breath of the cool evening air. "Ahh... that's better," he whispers. Ever since that 'discussion' it had grown very stuffy in the castle walls.
Twilight_Sparkle laughs. "Sorry. I've developed a habit of doing it to Spike without warning. He complains. Which is part of why I do it." She glances back at the castle. "Luna says she sees a lot of herself in me. Did you know she's my great-great-great-great-great grandmother? Apparently a lot of us have princess blood in us."
Bardigan follows Twilight's gaze back up to the tower, squinting even in the gentle light of the moon. He looks terribly thoughtful, and perhaps even a bit regretful. "Do we?" he wonders in a rough whisper to nopony in particular, then sets his jaw and turns back to the street. "It's this way," he announces, and starts walking without much ceremony. His movements are automatic and stiff; clearly his mind is elsewhere.
Twilight_Sparkle follows alongside. "I have a lot of respect for you as an artist, you know. So do the princesses. Luna...is just very self-conscious about her banishment." For a while, the only sound is eight hooves on stone. Presently, Twilight adds, "I suppose being an artist is a bit of a heavy burden sometimes, isn't it? Your job is to make ponies feel things, and that's a dangerous pursuit."
A few more blocks pass by in awkward silence. Bardigan's response is quick when it comes, though, flying out from between his teeth. "Yes, that's exactly it. I want to make them feel, but the worst part is I usually want to make them *happy.* Well... no, that's oversimplifying. I want them to come away thinking they've *gained* something. A lesson, or a new perspective, or... I don't know," he trails off into a murmur of aimless nonsense. It's only when they reach the top of a flight of stairs, their destination in view, that he speaks again. "An artist is his own harshest critic, and when the target audience is dissatisfied... she called it a masterpiece, but what *good* is that if it is so harmful it mustn't see the light of day again?" He cranes his head back to stare at the stars, begging for an answer. "And that leads to the inevitable question: what good am *I* if my best produces that kind of result?"
Twilight_Sparkle thinks about this a while. As the light fades, the end of her horn lights up, illuminating the path and both ponies, somewhat eerily, though she does make an effort to keep the light limited to warm tones. "I...guess that's a complicated question," she acknowledges. "I can tell you that I, personally, took something meaningful from it. And, since the play was performed, Luna's mentioned it to me twice, as a cautionary tale. Something to avoid in my own magical pursuits. Hubris has been the downfall of some powerful unicorns." She thinks a moment longer. "I suppose the question is, WAS Luna your target audience? If you dramatize an actual event in the actual life of somepony who's in the audience, it'll mean something different to her than it does to the rest of the audience, no matter how you approach it. Did you...have expectations regarding Luna's reaction?"
Bardigan takes them through the door of the establishment, the name of which escapes him and is unimportant given he's memorized where it is, though the waiter at the door calls it 'The Jumping Bean.' As a regular they let him just wander through the building to the back, to the balcony tables, bordered by plants and nothing else as most of Canterlot's mountain face and Equestria beyond is open to view. Bardigan distractedly orders 'something fizzy' and takes a moment to admire the view, as he always does. "... I always knew it would be touchy," he says suddenly, over his shoulder. "I'm not even that surprised she doesn't want to see it again. Hearing it from her own mouth though, was... difficult. And for such silly, petty reasons on my part. Worries that it would actually make ponies distrust her *again!* Because of what *I* put on those papers, what *I* wanted to see on stage, and now..." He sighs, and the energy leaves him with it. He sits down heavily at a table, thankful they're the only ponies out here. "I feel selfish and the worst part is it's true. She gave me the story to tell and I did. I. Me. Those words keep repeating themselves in my head."
Twilight_Sparkle sits across from Bardigan, and orders some cider for herself. She spends some time admiring the view, looking pleased with the choice of venue. "It's very nice here. You must find the view inspiring," she says. She's quiet a while longer, pondering. "You know, I worry every day that I'm going to screw up my job. And it seems like every day the potential consequences of me screwing up get bigger. I don't mean the library. Bad shelving can only mess up Equestria so much. But..." She sighs. "I don't know what it is Celestia and now Luna are grooming me for, but it feels like it's something big, and sometimes I feel like there's a lot they aren't telling me. Maybe *I'll* end up spending a thousand years on the moon eventually."
Bardigan glances up, shame-faced for a good number of reasons. "Oh, you..." he starts, then looks to the darkening horizon again, ear twitching at the distant waterfall. "Of course. A matter of perspective, am I right? You're... you're a hero," he says, as if just realizing that. "I shouldn't be unloading complaints like this on you. Your responsibility is far greater than mine." He traces a hoof on the table, wondering if she's trying to relate or make him feel small and get his priorities in order. "I just... wish that night could have come without regrets. I don't have many. But the ones I do stand out even sharper for it."
Twilight_Sparkle shakes her head, and waves a hoof, dismissively. "It's apples and oranges," she says. "I could never create the way you create. I really have a lot of respect for you." She shrugs. "And I don't think I'm any more heroic than the next pony. I have certain skills, but anything I've ever *really* accomplished, I did as part of a six-pony team. I'm a piece of something much larger. You..." She smiles. "You can conjure whole worlds with just your mind. You're a pony with vision. I think that's amazing, and of course you take it seriously. What you do is a kind of magic too, and a powerful one if Luna herself is so affected by it."
Bardigan ignores the drink when it comes save for a single sip. He glances down at his cutie mark, and though its dual nature just seems to reflect his own confusion tonight, he does seem a little less burdened. "Knowing that just makes it all the more keen when you can't get ponies to be affected the way you wanted them to be," he sighs. "Or when you have a vision, and it just... doesn't quite come out right. It's hard not to feel the whole is flawed when just a little is missing." He shrugs too, giving Twilight a feeble smile. "But my special talent isn't time travel, so there's nothing to do about it now."
Twilight_Sparkle grins. "It's just as well. I got into time travel once, and it actually caused me to waste a week of my life worrying. It might have been different if I'd let my future self get a word in edgewise." She touches a hoof to Bardigan's, as she takes a sip of her cider. "For what it's worth, the play was very well received generally. Did you see the reviews? You 'made history come alive.' I suppose that's inevitably going to weigh heavily on those who actually WERE alive for history."
"Some define different as better," Bardigan mumbles, rolling his cup between his hooves until Twilight reaches out. He glances at her hoof, then at the pony herself. "Commercial success doesn't always negate a personal failure," he laments. He's not *trying* to stay glum, but the meeting was only just an hour ago. "I thought... there /must/ have been some kind of oversight, or lack of concern, or somepony must not have been thinking... otherwise how could such a tragedy have happened, if they were doing it right? But those were my thoughts, not theirs. As always it comes back to me." He shakes his head, and then his gaze gets quite stern as he looks Twilight in the eye. "The point of a story is to be *told,* Twilight Sparkle. Everything around us has a story. Each pony, each insect, each *leaf.* Not all of them are going to be finished, or heard, but they *all* deserve to be /told./ And now because of my... misrepresentation, or whatever I was thinking, this one will fade into history again, until such a time when Luna wishes to tell it once more. And maybe then she can... find somepony who can tell it better. Whatever I may think this story is done with in my lifetime. Just... to know I am responsible for that fact is difficult to handle, as a /teller/ of stories."
Twilight_Sparkle sips her drink, pondering this. "Well, then...maybe you've gained some insight into how Luna feels," she offers. "I mean, you must know that about her, right? You're an artist, and I know you get inside your subjects' hearts as much as you can, and..." She gazes at a nearby waterfall, lit and feathered by the moonlight. "Luna is kind of haunted. She's deeply ashamed of her failures, and spends a lot of her time worrying that her banishment destroyed her reputation forever. It's why she's so sensitive about all this. I've...been in the position of feeling that about my own actions, too, and every time I attempt something hard it's in the back of my mind that I might be about to blow up Equestria or something else terrible." She pauses a moment, and then, with a little half-smile, she says, "If I may quote Spider-Pony, with great power comes great responsibility. It's true of a great artist as well as a princess or a magician. You and I aren't so different."
Bardigan finds himself pondering that for a good long while, staring at Twilight the whole while. "I suppose it was too much to ask for such a raw nerve not to be inflamed," he must agree. "Such is my enthusiasm I let my fervor for telling a story get in the way of how it might be received. I wanted to make the Princesses happy... but that was a childish thought, maybe, for working with such a sensitive subject. And I learned, yes. Entertainment is a conversation; neither side can be deaf to the other. At least the Princess was willing to give me her thoughts. That alone is an honor." He looks down into his drink, watching the short-lived bubbles drift up and pop. "Next time," he decides. "Next time I will put a smile on /everypony's/ face."
Twilight_Sparkle nods. "I think you have to do what you're moved to do," she says. "I mean, I'm not an artist myself, but I've read a lot of books about artists and art, and one impression I've distinctly gotten is that the muses can be difficult, and sometimes you have to just let them work, and face the consequences. That said, and if you want the advice of a humble non-artist like me...if you want Luna's everlasting gratitude, write about something from her past that's more noble." She takes a long drink of her cider. "This is kind of a self-serving suggestion, and please feel free to ignore it completely, but...Luna informed me recently that I'm descended from her affair with Starswirl the Bearded. THAT's a love story I'd like to know more about."
If Bardigan had been more interested in drinking, it would be all over the table by now. His eyes go wide. "Star... well!" His gaze slides off the balcony and to the wheeling stars. "Our Princesses certainly shot for the moon back then, didn't they?" he mutters under his breath, scratching his mane. "Nevertheless... I'm sure anypony would be interested to hear it. And it would be quite a point of pride, for everypony to know one of their national heroes is descended from such a noble lineage," he says, and there's a hint of teasing as he looks back at Twilight with a raised eyebrow and half-smile. "I've read up on Starswirl, as I have many old hoeroes, but I never quite caught that tidbit. I assume it ended on a more positive note than the last one."
Twilight_Sparkle grins widely, looking proud. "I don't know all that much about it! I've been wanting to get more information out of Luna, but, you know, she's a very busy pony. It was quite a surprise to me! I've been studying Starswirl for years. I even dressed up like him for Halloween on not one but TWO occasions. And I had no idea he was a direct ancestor." She lets her usual modest facade slip a little. "I mean, it makes some kind of sense, doesn't it? I'm descended from Starswirl and both princesses. It only makes sense that I'd end up controlling the element of magic!" She looks suddenly self-conscious, her cheeks pinkening. "I don't have any more control than any other pony of what genes I'm carrying, but...I guess I'm good at what my ancestors were good at."
"You're good at what *you* are good at," Bardigan says with a firm nod. "Your ancestors helped in their own way. But you got where you are because you wanted to be here. A mark of a hero is often that they don't realize just how unique they really are." He's smiling more fully now, amused it seems by her gushing. "And to think you offered a sympathetic ear to a little playwright." His own look slips back into something more solemn, and he reaches out to touch her hoof and look her in the eye, and stays that way. "Twilight," he says, dropping the formal tone he's been carrying so far. "I don't often get to find a pony who I can talk to like this. Honestly, I mean, without any need for pretenses. Thank you for being that pony tonight. Were it not for this talk, I'd have gone home quite a mess."
Twilight_Sparkle beams, ear to ear. "I know you'd do the same for me," she says, looking back into Bardigan's eyes and keeping her hoof against his. "I mean, you've always struck me as a kind pony, or you wouldn't be upset about this to begin with. And I do really hope my lighting effects did justice to your words." She's quiet a moment, her big violet eyes still looking into Bardigan's green ones. "I think we have a lot in common."
Bardigan's smile is warm and welcome. "I think a lot of ponies do. It just... takes a little nudge for them to realize it." The moment freezes in Bardigan's mind, captured as a little story like all the rest. The gentle fruity taste of the whatever-he's-drinking, the scent of the misty waterfall and the plants, and the memory of a kind pony who offered her time. "It is late," he whispers at length. "And I had ponies waiting for me before I was even summoned by Luna. I should get back to them before they think I vanished into thin air. Don't worry about the drinks, it'll go on my tab." But he lingers for just a little longer, enjoying the catharsis of the moment, before he stands up. He takes his hat from his head and puts it over his heart, offering her a deep gentlecolt's bow. "My deepest thanks, Miss Sparkle. You've given me much more than just a few minutes of time and kind words. I can see why Magic is happy to be in your hooves."
Twilight_Sparkle's ears rest back, and she looks down at the table for a moment. Her heart is beating faster, and at this moment she realizes it, and it makes her blush. She gives the poet pony a smile, then gets to her hooves and offers a curtsy of her own. "If you'd like to do this again, you know where to find me! If I'm not in the library proper, feel free to look downstairs."
Bardigan tilts his head, his smile a little mischievous. "Well, I have some research of my own to do... expect me at your door some time soon, Miss Sparkle. I look forward to meeting under more cheerful circumstances." And with that, he takes a proper running leap off the balcony, spreading his wings to disappear into the night sky.
Manners are something that go in one direction - towards princesses. So it is completely without warning that Bardigan's life is enveloped in blue light, there's a lurch, and he's dropped onto the rug in Luna's bedroom, lit by the fireplace and by the sparkling starlight of the princess's mane. She lounges on her side on her bed, regally long and fluid, with only her head lifted. Her expression and voice, alas, are their usual official implacability as she greets, "Playwright. We will speak with thee."
It seems Bardigan had been in the middle of something when Luna wrenched him out of it. Something loud and dramatic, by the way he's on his hind legs with one hoof over his heart, the other in the air, and his wings outstretched. And appears to be singing opera. "-AAAAAAAAAaaaaa- oh." He trails off as he realizes the blue light wasn't just some offensive new stage lighting. His eyes dart back and forth while he spins in place till he makes note of Luna in her bedroom. A shudder runs through him as if he just about jumped out of his skin, and he swiftly turns around and slaps himself, pauses and mutters something, then turns back to the Princess of the Moon and prostrates himself. "Your highness! Your pleasure is mine. What needs be spoken of?"
Luna has long legs, which allows her to extend one off the edge of the bed, her silver shod hoof held low and pointed out towards Bardigan. "We thought it best to let thee recover after thine performance, but now we have a moment to discuss the play we commissioned. Tell us of thy opinion. From a backstage perspective, did it come off well? Were the tickets significant? Thou must know we have great hopes for thy and the Dreamy Eyed Mare's thespian careers."
Bardigan stands again, eyes wide. He looks flattered and flustered at the same time, and it takes him some shuffling about to get his composure back. But once he starts, it's hard to stop. "I... to be honest, it was one of the greatest successes of my career. Played in the royal palace? With all of Canterlot *and* the glorious personage of you and your sister in attendance? The ticket sales were not astronomical, but it certainly exceeded the success *I've* known so far. Critics varied in their opinions, but what of that? It was the exposure that mattered! I... I was happy with the performances of everypony, maybe there were one or two hiccups, but nothing that can't be fixed, and then there was the accolades that came after! The names of me and my compatriots... more importantly the story we told... is spreading through all of Equestria! Come off well is an understatement, your highness. I couldn't have been happier to be a part of it."
Well, that was not exactly the right thing to say. Luna grimaces, and her leg is withdrawn back onto the mattress. "Yes, of course it has," she acknowledges solemnly, downright fatalistically. Her wings ruffle, causing the bed to bounce a bit since she's lying on one. Raising her head higher, she looks down at Bardigan with an expression and voice returned to careful neutrality as she tells him, "Do not interpret this as the play being a failure, but it is our wish that the performance in the palace be this play's ONLY performance."
Bardigan's smile quickly droops. In fact, almost everything about him does. He's the picture of chastisement as he tries to process what he just heard, but then an expression of acceptance, if not understanding, comes over his face as he gives a firm nod. "Of course, your highness," he answers. "I'll make sure the rights to it are kept close to my chest to prevent any repeat performances." He struggles not to bite his lip. More words are on the tip of his tongue, but as this discussion quickly turned into a command, he's uncertain whether he should voice them. She's let him be bold enough so far... "If... I may ask... the play was for your sister, yes, but... did *you* take offense to it?"
Luna sighs hugely, grunting in frustration at the same time. Her head flops down with it, and then she rolls onto her back, wings spreading and all four legs sticking up in the air. Her tone becomes sharp and childish with frustration, but her emotions are certainly no longer suppressed. "So be it. We owe thee honesty. Our feelings are very mixed, playwright. Thy performance was masterly, and so well did thou portray Horizon's feelings that we grieve anew at his fall. Dreamy Eyes captured our sister's unfailing grace and nobility as perfectly as she did our madness. The lesson of the play was not what we asked for, yet we approve wholeheartedly. By all means, let ponies understand we are not perfect, that our power and responsibility was thrust upon us, and we are but ponies bearing it as we may. It did well enough reminding our sister that we are together again and her lonely rule is ended. BUT..." She inhales sharply, and her head lolls to the side so she can look at you directly again. "The lesser objection is that it unsettles our pride to suggest we picked Horizon by some contest and not personal affection. The true and greater objection is that we shall not have our ponies believing that ever, EVER we took our responsibility to them lightly."
This must be the part where I die. Or so the expression on Bardigan's face hints at what he's thinking. He has that wide-eyed, shocked to stillness expression a convict might have. When no green beams of zapping death come his way, he lets out a gentle sigh of his own and scuffs at the floor with his hoof. "I knew I should've struck that," he mutters, mostly to himself. "Your highness, to even imagine I brought shame, or heaven forbid a slight to your door is..." The poet is lost for words here as he struggles to think of what to say. "I allowed leeway to my actors in portraying their roles, it is true, but... the responsibility is on my shoulders. I should've..." He breathes in sharply and looks towards the balcony. "Well, I could go on forever about 'should.' I might ask to be forgiven, but that would sound presumptuous. I suppose I can say I am sorry. And I did give my all to this production. To making it something that would make you..." He knows what he *would* say, but now he's not so sure. So he chooses, "Satisfied."
Luna rolls onto her side again with a 'flumf', and then more gracefully gathers herself up onto her stomach, legs tucked beneath her. Stern again, she says, "Our mark remains upon thee, Playwright. Our favor thou possess. The play is a masterpiece, and we do not anticipate it harming what is left of our reputation - so long as it is not repeated. Much about it was... flattering." She tilts her head down and to the side, her lips curling in just the slightest trace of a smile as she pauses to give Bardigan a very direct look in the eyes. Then that moment ends and she concludes, "But the element that troubles us cannot be removed without destroying the play, and it troubles us too greatly to allow. Do thou understand how great both our pleasure and displeasure is, playwright?"
"If I did any more, I fear my heart would burst from conflicting feelings," Bardigan answers, shaken by both Luna's approval and lack of such in one sitting. His hoof gently brushes his mane, near where the mark is located, and will likely remain as long as he can keep it there. He's not smiling, but he's not bawling for forgiveness either, but somehow both of those thoughts make him sad. "To bring you honor is something I desire above much save a very few things, your highness. It would only be a masterpiece to me if it gladdened your heart. Your favor is the bonus. I am yours for whatever else you may require, in spite of these, ah... prickly bits."
Twilight_Sparkle makes her way into the chamber. She peeks her head in first, as discreetly as she can, not wanting to disturb the royal goings-on unnecessarily. Seeing Luna talking with Bardigan, she determines not to interrupt what has all the hallmarks of an Important Conversation. She quietly makes her way to a cushion out of the way, and sits; she magics a book in from somewhere, and opens it, reading. Still, she doesn't try to hide the fact that she's eavesdropping, one ear angled in the direction of the conversation.
Luna raises her voice, not going all Royal Canterlot on him, but still firm and commanding. "Continue to write, Playwright. Continue to act. If thou wish us to be the subject, we have no objections. Portray us as shining star or abominable monster or simply a pony like other ponies, as thou will. Greatly shall we be pleased regardless. But do NOT portray us as unconcerned. Had we known there was even a chance of The Night Of Two Moons occurring..." She trails off, shaking her head. Then she sighs. "Thy audience is at an end. We wish to retire and commune with the shadows, and be assured that our ponies sleep safe and protected tonight."
Bardigan bows again, hiding his wince under his hat. "Of course, your highness. I know you will keep them safe." He begins to back out of the room, and it's only then he notices Twilight Sparkle. He gives her a short look, then glances back over his shoulder to Luna. That lingers for a fraction of a second before he goes on his way and exits stage left.
Twilight_Sparkle folds her book closed, magics it back to wherever it came from (the library, presumably), and gets up. She knows when not to disturb Princess Luna, but Bardigan...could use a kind word, now, possibly, and since she also has spoken with Luna about this subject, she has some idea what must be going through the poet pony's head. She follows Bardigan out of the chambers, calling after him. "Bardigan...wait up."
Bardigan stops mid-step in the hallway, distracting himself with thoughts on how to get out of here with some dignity instead of just launching himself out of a window. "Miss Sparkle?" he asks, turning to face her and reflexively bowing his head to her, expression and tone mostly neutral. "The pleasure is mine. I didn't expect to see you up here... well, that's silly, of all ponies *you* would be allowed in chambers like this."
Twilight_Sparkle smiles, a little self-consciously. "I sort of come and go as I please, here at the palace. I did spend a lot of my fillyhood in these chambers..." She glances back over her shoulder. "It was different before Luna came back. But I guess I won't bore you with reminiscing." She looks into Bardigan's eyes a moment; even having only caught the very end of that conversation, she guesses Bardigan is feeling more than he's wearing on his face. "Are you headed home?"
"I was." Bardigan flaps his wings once, but he returns her short stare, as if to tell her something without saying anything. "But I'm one for being proper and hoped to find the front door from here. Good luck with that, right?" He tilts his head inquisitively. "Did you have somewhere else in mind?"
Twilight_Sparkle laughs softly. "The place is a bit of a labyrinth. I always suspected that was by design. Do you feel like having a cup of coffee or a drink, with me?"
Bardigan's eyebrows go up just a bit, more out of surprise than amusement. He looks away, focusing on a vase just to their right. "I... I think I'd like that," he says, quietly. A library kind of voice. He looks back at Twilight and a little smile plays on his lips this time. "Yes, I think I'd like that very much."
Twilight_Sparkle smiles. "How well do you know Canterlot? If you don't have a favorite spot, I'm sure we can find one."
Bardigan scratches his chin, looking upward into his own cache of memories. "Oooh... there's an adorable little place just outside the palace, near the edge of the city. You can see the waterfalls outside the walls from there. It's very out of the way. I love it for that reason." He gently tosses his head down the hall. "I know the way if you'll get me out of here! Shall we?"
Twilight_Sparkle smiles. "It's a deal! Tell you what. Let's get out of her via my current preferred method of travel, and then we can walk the rest of the way." She winks, and then there's a flash of light, and both ponies are standing outside, on the street.
/=/
Bardigan staggers as they end up on the streets of Canterlot, shaking himself like a dog to clear his head. "Oh my," he gasps, grasping his hat. "I'd get used to that if I had more warning beforehoof! Do you know Princess Luna has a habit of doing that at most inopportune times?" he asks Twilight, taking a deep, bracing breath of the cool evening air. "Ahh... that's better," he whispers. Ever since that 'discussion' it had grown very stuffy in the castle walls.
Twilight_Sparkle laughs. "Sorry. I've developed a habit of doing it to Spike without warning. He complains. Which is part of why I do it." She glances back at the castle. "Luna says she sees a lot of herself in me. Did you know she's my great-great-great-great-great grandmother? Apparently a lot of us have princess blood in us."
Bardigan follows Twilight's gaze back up to the tower, squinting even in the gentle light of the moon. He looks terribly thoughtful, and perhaps even a bit regretful. "Do we?" he wonders in a rough whisper to nopony in particular, then sets his jaw and turns back to the street. "It's this way," he announces, and starts walking without much ceremony. His movements are automatic and stiff; clearly his mind is elsewhere.
Twilight_Sparkle follows alongside. "I have a lot of respect for you as an artist, you know. So do the princesses. Luna...is just very self-conscious about her banishment." For a while, the only sound is eight hooves on stone. Presently, Twilight adds, "I suppose being an artist is a bit of a heavy burden sometimes, isn't it? Your job is to make ponies feel things, and that's a dangerous pursuit."
A few more blocks pass by in awkward silence. Bardigan's response is quick when it comes, though, flying out from between his teeth. "Yes, that's exactly it. I want to make them feel, but the worst part is I usually want to make them *happy.* Well... no, that's oversimplifying. I want them to come away thinking they've *gained* something. A lesson, or a new perspective, or... I don't know," he trails off into a murmur of aimless nonsense. It's only when they reach the top of a flight of stairs, their destination in view, that he speaks again. "An artist is his own harshest critic, and when the target audience is dissatisfied... she called it a masterpiece, but what *good* is that if it is so harmful it mustn't see the light of day again?" He cranes his head back to stare at the stars, begging for an answer. "And that leads to the inevitable question: what good am *I* if my best produces that kind of result?"
Twilight_Sparkle thinks about this a while. As the light fades, the end of her horn lights up, illuminating the path and both ponies, somewhat eerily, though she does make an effort to keep the light limited to warm tones. "I...guess that's a complicated question," she acknowledges. "I can tell you that I, personally, took something meaningful from it. And, since the play was performed, Luna's mentioned it to me twice, as a cautionary tale. Something to avoid in my own magical pursuits. Hubris has been the downfall of some powerful unicorns." She thinks a moment longer. "I suppose the question is, WAS Luna your target audience? If you dramatize an actual event in the actual life of somepony who's in the audience, it'll mean something different to her than it does to the rest of the audience, no matter how you approach it. Did you...have expectations regarding Luna's reaction?"
Bardigan takes them through the door of the establishment, the name of which escapes him and is unimportant given he's memorized where it is, though the waiter at the door calls it 'The Jumping Bean.' As a regular they let him just wander through the building to the back, to the balcony tables, bordered by plants and nothing else as most of Canterlot's mountain face and Equestria beyond is open to view. Bardigan distractedly orders 'something fizzy' and takes a moment to admire the view, as he always does. "... I always knew it would be touchy," he says suddenly, over his shoulder. "I'm not even that surprised she doesn't want to see it again. Hearing it from her own mouth though, was... difficult. And for such silly, petty reasons on my part. Worries that it would actually make ponies distrust her *again!* Because of what *I* put on those papers, what *I* wanted to see on stage, and now..." He sighs, and the energy leaves him with it. He sits down heavily at a table, thankful they're the only ponies out here. "I feel selfish and the worst part is it's true. She gave me the story to tell and I did. I. Me. Those words keep repeating themselves in my head."
Twilight_Sparkle sits across from Bardigan, and orders some cider for herself. She spends some time admiring the view, looking pleased with the choice of venue. "It's very nice here. You must find the view inspiring," she says. She's quiet a while longer, pondering. "You know, I worry every day that I'm going to screw up my job. And it seems like every day the potential consequences of me screwing up get bigger. I don't mean the library. Bad shelving can only mess up Equestria so much. But..." She sighs. "I don't know what it is Celestia and now Luna are grooming me for, but it feels like it's something big, and sometimes I feel like there's a lot they aren't telling me. Maybe *I'll* end up spending a thousand years on the moon eventually."
Bardigan glances up, shame-faced for a good number of reasons. "Oh, you..." he starts, then looks to the darkening horizon again, ear twitching at the distant waterfall. "Of course. A matter of perspective, am I right? You're... you're a hero," he says, as if just realizing that. "I shouldn't be unloading complaints like this on you. Your responsibility is far greater than mine." He traces a hoof on the table, wondering if she's trying to relate or make him feel small and get his priorities in order. "I just... wish that night could have come without regrets. I don't have many. But the ones I do stand out even sharper for it."
Twilight_Sparkle shakes her head, and waves a hoof, dismissively. "It's apples and oranges," she says. "I could never create the way you create. I really have a lot of respect for you." She shrugs. "And I don't think I'm any more heroic than the next pony. I have certain skills, but anything I've ever *really* accomplished, I did as part of a six-pony team. I'm a piece of something much larger. You..." She smiles. "You can conjure whole worlds with just your mind. You're a pony with vision. I think that's amazing, and of course you take it seriously. What you do is a kind of magic too, and a powerful one if Luna herself is so affected by it."
Bardigan ignores the drink when it comes save for a single sip. He glances down at his cutie mark, and though its dual nature just seems to reflect his own confusion tonight, he does seem a little less burdened. "Knowing that just makes it all the more keen when you can't get ponies to be affected the way you wanted them to be," he sighs. "Or when you have a vision, and it just... doesn't quite come out right. It's hard not to feel the whole is flawed when just a little is missing." He shrugs too, giving Twilight a feeble smile. "But my special talent isn't time travel, so there's nothing to do about it now."
Twilight_Sparkle grins. "It's just as well. I got into time travel once, and it actually caused me to waste a week of my life worrying. It might have been different if I'd let my future self get a word in edgewise." She touches a hoof to Bardigan's, as she takes a sip of her cider. "For what it's worth, the play was very well received generally. Did you see the reviews? You 'made history come alive.' I suppose that's inevitably going to weigh heavily on those who actually WERE alive for history."
"Some define different as better," Bardigan mumbles, rolling his cup between his hooves until Twilight reaches out. He glances at her hoof, then at the pony herself. "Commercial success doesn't always negate a personal failure," he laments. He's not *trying* to stay glum, but the meeting was only just an hour ago. "I thought... there /must/ have been some kind of oversight, or lack of concern, or somepony must not have been thinking... otherwise how could such a tragedy have happened, if they were doing it right? But those were my thoughts, not theirs. As always it comes back to me." He shakes his head, and then his gaze gets quite stern as he looks Twilight in the eye. "The point of a story is to be *told,* Twilight Sparkle. Everything around us has a story. Each pony, each insect, each *leaf.* Not all of them are going to be finished, or heard, but they *all* deserve to be /told./ And now because of my... misrepresentation, or whatever I was thinking, this one will fade into history again, until such a time when Luna wishes to tell it once more. And maybe then she can... find somepony who can tell it better. Whatever I may think this story is done with in my lifetime. Just... to know I am responsible for that fact is difficult to handle, as a /teller/ of stories."
Twilight_Sparkle sips her drink, pondering this. "Well, then...maybe you've gained some insight into how Luna feels," she offers. "I mean, you must know that about her, right? You're an artist, and I know you get inside your subjects' hearts as much as you can, and..." She gazes at a nearby waterfall, lit and feathered by the moonlight. "Luna is kind of haunted. She's deeply ashamed of her failures, and spends a lot of her time worrying that her banishment destroyed her reputation forever. It's why she's so sensitive about all this. I've...been in the position of feeling that about my own actions, too, and every time I attempt something hard it's in the back of my mind that I might be about to blow up Equestria or something else terrible." She pauses a moment, and then, with a little half-smile, she says, "If I may quote Spider-Pony, with great power comes great responsibility. It's true of a great artist as well as a princess or a magician. You and I aren't so different."
Bardigan finds himself pondering that for a good long while, staring at Twilight the whole while. "I suppose it was too much to ask for such a raw nerve not to be inflamed," he must agree. "Such is my enthusiasm I let my fervor for telling a story get in the way of how it might be received. I wanted to make the Princesses happy... but that was a childish thought, maybe, for working with such a sensitive subject. And I learned, yes. Entertainment is a conversation; neither side can be deaf to the other. At least the Princess was willing to give me her thoughts. That alone is an honor." He looks down into his drink, watching the short-lived bubbles drift up and pop. "Next time," he decides. "Next time I will put a smile on /everypony's/ face."
Twilight_Sparkle nods. "I think you have to do what you're moved to do," she says. "I mean, I'm not an artist myself, but I've read a lot of books about artists and art, and one impression I've distinctly gotten is that the muses can be difficult, and sometimes you have to just let them work, and face the consequences. That said, and if you want the advice of a humble non-artist like me...if you want Luna's everlasting gratitude, write about something from her past that's more noble." She takes a long drink of her cider. "This is kind of a self-serving suggestion, and please feel free to ignore it completely, but...Luna informed me recently that I'm descended from her affair with Starswirl the Bearded. THAT's a love story I'd like to know more about."
If Bardigan had been more interested in drinking, it would be all over the table by now. His eyes go wide. "Star... well!" His gaze slides off the balcony and to the wheeling stars. "Our Princesses certainly shot for the moon back then, didn't they?" he mutters under his breath, scratching his mane. "Nevertheless... I'm sure anypony would be interested to hear it. And it would be quite a point of pride, for everypony to know one of their national heroes is descended from such a noble lineage," he says, and there's a hint of teasing as he looks back at Twilight with a raised eyebrow and half-smile. "I've read up on Starswirl, as I have many old hoeroes, but I never quite caught that tidbit. I assume it ended on a more positive note than the last one."
Twilight_Sparkle grins widely, looking proud. "I don't know all that much about it! I've been wanting to get more information out of Luna, but, you know, she's a very busy pony. It was quite a surprise to me! I've been studying Starswirl for years. I even dressed up like him for Halloween on not one but TWO occasions. And I had no idea he was a direct ancestor." She lets her usual modest facade slip a little. "I mean, it makes some kind of sense, doesn't it? I'm descended from Starswirl and both princesses. It only makes sense that I'd end up controlling the element of magic!" She looks suddenly self-conscious, her cheeks pinkening. "I don't have any more control than any other pony of what genes I'm carrying, but...I guess I'm good at what my ancestors were good at."
"You're good at what *you* are good at," Bardigan says with a firm nod. "Your ancestors helped in their own way. But you got where you are because you wanted to be here. A mark of a hero is often that they don't realize just how unique they really are." He's smiling more fully now, amused it seems by her gushing. "And to think you offered a sympathetic ear to a little playwright." His own look slips back into something more solemn, and he reaches out to touch her hoof and look her in the eye, and stays that way. "Twilight," he says, dropping the formal tone he's been carrying so far. "I don't often get to find a pony who I can talk to like this. Honestly, I mean, without any need for pretenses. Thank you for being that pony tonight. Were it not for this talk, I'd have gone home quite a mess."
Twilight_Sparkle beams, ear to ear. "I know you'd do the same for me," she says, looking back into Bardigan's eyes and keeping her hoof against his. "I mean, you've always struck me as a kind pony, or you wouldn't be upset about this to begin with. And I do really hope my lighting effects did justice to your words." She's quiet a moment, her big violet eyes still looking into Bardigan's green ones. "I think we have a lot in common."
Bardigan's smile is warm and welcome. "I think a lot of ponies do. It just... takes a little nudge for them to realize it." The moment freezes in Bardigan's mind, captured as a little story like all the rest. The gentle fruity taste of the whatever-he's-drinking, the scent of the misty waterfall and the plants, and the memory of a kind pony who offered her time. "It is late," he whispers at length. "And I had ponies waiting for me before I was even summoned by Luna. I should get back to them before they think I vanished into thin air. Don't worry about the drinks, it'll go on my tab." But he lingers for just a little longer, enjoying the catharsis of the moment, before he stands up. He takes his hat from his head and puts it over his heart, offering her a deep gentlecolt's bow. "My deepest thanks, Miss Sparkle. You've given me much more than just a few minutes of time and kind words. I can see why Magic is happy to be in your hooves."
Twilight_Sparkle's ears rest back, and she looks down at the table for a moment. Her heart is beating faster, and at this moment she realizes it, and it makes her blush. She gives the poet pony a smile, then gets to her hooves and offers a curtsy of her own. "If you'd like to do this again, you know where to find me! If I'm not in the library proper, feel free to look downstairs."
Bardigan tilts his head, his smile a little mischievous. "Well, I have some research of my own to do... expect me at your door some time soon, Miss Sparkle. I look forward to meeting under more cheerful circumstances." And with that, he takes a proper running leap off the balcony, spreading his wings to disappear into the night sky.