• Published 30th Dec 2011
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Composure - Varanus



What could be revealed when the mask called composure slips? Twilight and Celestia romance

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Chapter 3 - Covenant

Composure

by Varanus

A MLP:FiM fanfiction.

~{C}~

Chapter 3 - Covenant

~{C}~

“The night looks wonderful, Luna,” Celestia said with a smile, gazing in wonder at the depth and brilliance of the night sky her sister had so lovingly brought forth. It was unlike any she had seen before, ethereal and magnificent, impossible and wondrous.

And yet... familiar? Celestia paused, reeling in an unsettling sense of déjà-vu.

“Do you really mean that, Celestia?” Luna asked quietly, interrupting the elder alicorn’s moment of confusion. “Ever since we reunited, all those years ago, I was working towards this, the perfect night.”

Celestia dismissed the confusion and smiled at her sister. “Well, I believe you’ve more than accomplished it, sister,” the sun princess assured her younger sibling. “Why, the sky is simply mesmerizing tonight; I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Luna gave a small smile at the praise. “D-do you think the ponies will like it?”

“Luna, they will love it,” Celestia assured her sister, lowering her head to nuzzle the shy princess. “They will absolutely adore this night, I know it.”

Luna smiled. “I’m so glad. But, Celestia, you haven’t seen the best part. There’s a surprise in that sky, just for you. Can you see it?”

“A surprise?” the sun princess asked, excited.

“Yes, it’s to thank you, and to show you how much I love you.” The darker alicorn beckoned with her hoof. “It’s at the centre of the sky, directly up.”

Celestia craned her head up, searching the heavens for the surprise Luna promised. Her entire field of vision was filled with the rolling eternity of the constellations, and she soon lost herself amidst their splendour. “Luna...” she murmured, tears building in her eyes from the sheer beauty. “Luna, I -”

The bolt of lightning cut through her once more, but the pain was numb, distant. But her body felt like lead, and she fell regardless. “This isn’t real... it can’t be...” she protested weakly as she lay on the ground, staring wide-eyed up at her sister.

“Is this really how you see me?” Luna asked in turn, her coat turned pitch-black, her mane surging with cold stars. They brushed against Celestia’s coat like frozen branding irons, drawing her up into the air.

“It’s not... Luna, I trust you,” Celestia swore desperately. The stars were like a thousand pinpricks, like thorns pressing hard against her skin.

Her words fell on deaf ears as her sister stared, uncaring, down on her. “A thousand years,” she whispered, “and you still can’t see me as anything other than a monster.”

Celestia closed her eyes before desperate tears could fill them. “I gave you the sun,” she whispered. “Wasn’t that enough?”

“No, not enough,” Luna replied, shaking her head with a sad smile on her face. “It’ll never be enough for you.”

Celestia’s eyes shot open in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Luna only continued to smile pityingly as the star-filled mane closed around her.

The starry mane squeezed – but Celestia didn’t scream.

She surrendered.

~{C}~

In the chambers of the night princess, Luna paced distractedly, her bed empty and unkempt. Occasionally she would flop down on it and flick through a book, only to rise seconds later. Other times she would spend a few minutes quietly jotting at her desk, before her restlessness forced her to rise once more. She could feel the moon wane – dawn was merely a few hours away, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for it.

Almost idly, Luna reached for an abacus and ran through a calculation of the possible centrifugal force she’d need to compensate for when she raised the sun. Beads clattered loudly in the quiet room for a few moments, before the archaic device went still and was tossed on the bed. Luna gave a glance at the few sheets of parchment scattered around her desk and, with a touch of magic, sorted them into neat piles. Her desk tidy, she strode out of the room.

It’s pointless to calculate when I don’t have a frame of reference...’ Luna reasoned, the sound of her hooves echoing loudly in the quiet corridor. Several guards moved forward from the shadows to accompany her. Luna merely shook her head, dismissing them with a look, and they returned to their posts.

Celestia... where did yesterday’s anger come from?’ she mused as she roamed the castle halls aimlessly. She remembered her sister’s eyes. Unfocused, confused... Ramheart had explained that Celestia had merely been irrationally irritated due to her head wound, that her sharper than normal words weren’t really her own... but Luna couldn’t help but question his diagnosis. Celestia’s eyes... they had been, dare she think it, insulted, appalled by the idea that the sun might be raised by another.

Was that how she really feels? Was her concussion just preventing her from hiding her true feelings?

“... No,” she said aloud, taking a stand against her own thoughts. “Celestia loves me. I won’t let a moment of irrationality poison the years of kindness and love we’ve shared.”

She felt a cool breeze on her skin, and looked to her right to see the sleeping land of Equestria laid out before her. She smiled, realising where she was – the Passage of Eastern Radiance. The eastern wall of the corridor was merely a long colonnade which opened out onto a wide balcony that followed the Passage’s length. She looked up, and her sharp eyes picked out the vivid fresco painted on the vaulted ceiling. Apparently it had been painted by a single Earth pony, which Luna found difficult to believe.

She turned to her left, to the western wall, and saw what gave the Passage its namesake – a mirror, or rather, series of tinted mirrors that ran the length of the open corridor. At dawn it would reflect the light of the sun back out onto Equestria in a beautiful display of shimmering colours.

At this moment, however, it reflected the light of the moon. Luna found the effect pleasing most mornings, as the muted colours of the reflected moonbeams had a certain elegance and subtlety about them.

But tonight, a cloud passed over the moon and all she could see in that mirror was an alicorn wrapped in shadows, trailing an ethereal mane. Without the moonlight, she seemed almost sinister – her mind playing tricks on her, she knew, but she also understood the fear others might hold in their hearts.

She touched her reflection lightly with her hoof, and thought back to her first Nightmare Night, before she had even adjusted to the social etiquette of the time. She learned that the children were quick to forgive, quick to play and show affection, but the adults? The longer the memory a pony possessed... ‘And who can remember more than Celestia?’ she thought, staring down into her own deep turquoise eyes ‘But... even if she is, deep down, doubtful of me...’ She shut her eyes tight, and when she reopened them, the clouds over the moon had passed, and she saw her true self looking back through the mirror. ‘Even if that is the case, I can forgive too.’

She smiled, and for the first time since the accident, she felt strong again. ‘Still, she’s been off for a while now,’ she mused, continuing her train of thoughts. ‘Something’s bothering her, and she doesn’t want me to know.’ Luna didn’t think it was anything world-changing, but it still ached for her to be unable to help her sister. ‘Perhaps now that Twilight is here...

Speaking of twilight, the moon was inching towards the horizon. Soon, it would be time for her to herald the dawn. ‘My dawn,’ Luna reminded herself with a growing giddy smile. ‘My day.

She stepped out onto her balcony and turned to face the horizon in the east. Just before she began to focus her power, however, she hesitated. ‘Celestia should be here...

Her mind made up, she took to the air and flew in a curving arc around the castle, arriving at her sister’s tower in mere moments.

Landing on the balcony, she poked her head through the glass doors leading to Celestia’s room. She paused, however, as she saw the bed – and the two mares within. Twilight was pressed snugly against the white alicorn, blissfully unaware of the world, while Celestia herself had her hooves wrapped around the unicorn in a tight embrace.

Luna raised an eyebrow. Sure, she had teased Celestia about her affection for the unicorn, but... ‘Well now... oh, surely this can’t be what it looks like.’

The grin rising on her face was wiped away when Celestia jolted slightly in her sleep. Moving closer for a better look, Luna realised her sister’s expression was scrunched up in fear – she was having a nightmare, a terrible one if it was enough to so visibly trouble the sun princess, a mare whose composure never cracked, even in her sleep.

“Sister...” Luna whispered sadly, her horn glowing with a gentle blue aura. “Fear not, I am here.” She was the princess of the night, immortal master of the moon and the magic it governed. The subtle flow of dreams was a river in which she was the ferrymare, but Celestia owed her no copper bit.

“For you, the night should be something of peace,” she said, placing a soft kiss on Celestia’s bandaged brow. “Sleep easy.”

Stars glittered over Celestia’s head, and her expression slowly slipped into one of calm and serenity. Part of Luna wanted to peer into her sister’s subconscious and see the dream directly, but she squashed it down. She would not intrude on another pony’s privacy, especially not her sister’s.

She glanced at Twilight, noting that she was sleeping soundly. ‘At least somepony is having a good night...’ the night princess thought, but she couldn’t muster the resentment she had felt earlier. That was good, as Luna didn’t want to be angry with her, the first pony to truly reach out to her. But all it took was the memory of the accusing eyes...

Luna strode back out onto the balcony, contemplative. She stared into the descending moon for a few moments, before glancing back through the windows into Celestia’s room. Her sister wrapped around Twilight in her sleep, a gesture that danced the knife-edge between platonic and... suggestive of something more.

Safe in the shadows of the night, Luna allowed her jaw to clench momentarily before she turned away from the scene. She had relieved her sister of her nightmares, and that was all the comfort she could give. She didn’t have a place there. All she could do was watch the moon, waiting for her advent as the year’s new solar guide.

~{C}~

The starry mane squeezed – and became thorns, thick, black, dagger-like thorns surrounding Celestia, blotting out the sky. The stench of a predator hung in the air, invading Celestia’s nostrils. The hissing of invisible snakes echoed in her ears. She tried to struggle, but the vines were curled around her legs, their claws digging into her, dragging her further into the black briar patch.

Suddenly, she was pulled forcefully backwards. She gasped in pain as the thorns dug into her and left deep gashes in her skin, but it quickly faded as the plants’ grip broke, freeing her. She continued to be dragged backwards by the scruff of her neck, wincing as she nicked herself on the thorns here and there as she passed.

After an age of her forced retreat, the shadows of the briars eventually thinned, showing splotches of an orange sky strewn with pastel purple clouds. Then the briars stopped entirely, and Celestia found herself dragged out of a chasm and into a vast and lonely plain of verdant grasses. She was so startled by the sudden shift in scenery that she was caught unaware as her rescuing force dropped her unceremoniously on the ground. Wincing as sharp pain radiated from her many cuts, Celestia rose to her hooves, turning to see who, or what, had snatched her up.

She was startled to see it was a tall and stout Earth pony stallion. Both his coat and mane were green, his mane being several shades darker, and his eyes were serious as he stared down at her.

“Who are you?” she asked.

The stallion smiled, his serious gaze softening slightly. “Oh good, you forgot me. And here you thought you never would.” His voice was familiar, but Celestia couldn’t place it.

“What do you mean?” she asked. She stepped forward and winced, glancing down at her torn legs. “I’m hurt...” she said, her voice wavering slightly.

“Because you dived into the thorns. Don’t do that again,” he said seriously. “You’ll only get hurt.”

“I have to go back,” Celestia protested, the confusion she felt slipping away as a terrible sureness dawned on her. “I think... I think somepony is still in there.”

“Go back?” the stallion asked sceptically. Seeing Celestia’s determined expression, he sighed. “Alright. Do you have a horn seeped in mystic power, to sweep aside the thorns with a mere thought?”

Celestia looked up at her forehead, but no white horn adorned it. “I do not.”

The green stallion nodded solemnly. “Do you have strong wings to fly above the thicket and quickly find what it is that you look for?”

Celestia glanced at her back, but saw no great wings, only a coat of soft white hair marred with wet crimson stains. “I do not.”

The stallion was aghast. “Then at the very least, do you have hooves strong enough to crush the vines and clear a path?”

Celestia looked at his hooves – they were stout and mighty, as strong as the heart of the Earth. She then glanced at her own hooves, weak and dainty things. They looked like they might split should she so much as trod on a pebble, whereas the fern-green pony’s could have shattered a mountain with ease. “I... I do not.”

He lowered his head sadly. “Then I’m sorry. It’s beyond you to return to that briar patch safely.”

Celestia whinnied urgently, but she couldn’t deny the truth in his words. She paced the clearing, her mind racing. “Then...” She paused, and looked at the Earth pony with hope in her eyes. “Then... can you go in my stead?” she asked tentatively.

He shook his head sadly. “No, I can’t. I already got hurt pulling you out once.” He turned to show the side of his body to Celestia. The white mare gasped in horror at the sight – the stallion’s side was torn up with cuts and burns. Before her eyes, the gashes warped and joined into a single circular wound, and instead of dripping off, the blood began to radiate out from it.

It looked like a sun – like her cutie mark.

She would likely have stared at the horrible wound forever had the stallion not broken her gaze as he trotted away. “Wait!” she called after him. “Where are you going?”

He motioned his head towards the horizon, where the verdant plain met the pastel orange sky. “I can’t do anything else for you, Celestia. It’s time for me to go.”

“Don’t leave me alone here!”

The stallion gave her a bemused look. “You mean you can’t see them? They were the ones who told me you had fallen in the briar patch.”

“Who-?” Celestia began to ask, but was silenced as hundreds of ponies came into view. They were laughing and chattering and frolicking amongst one another, and their sudden appearance both confused and captivated Celestia.

An ice blue Earth pony cantered up to her and nuzzled her lovingly. “There you are!” she giggled.

“Where did you all come from?” Celestia asked.

“Where does anypony come from?” the blue mare replied brightly. “What we want to know is, where did you go?”

Celestia glanced back to the chasm filled with black thorns. “Into the briar patch.”

The ponies gasped in horror and rushed towards her, fussing over her with worried whispers. “Come, let’s get you cleaned up...” a sandy-brown, cyan-maned pony murmured, guiding Celestia away from the chasm.

“A moment,” Celestia said, resisting the urge to follow the kind ponies. She turned her head to speak with the green Earth stallion. “I still need to...”

But the stallion was gone. She could see him in the distance, galloping towards the horizon, a green speck almost invisible against the grasses of the plain. Celestia bowed her head, dejected - she hadn’t even gotten the chance to thank him.

I couldn’t even remember his name...’ she thought mournfully. The land shifted, and for a moment she felt as if she might topple over and fall into the briars again, but she stomped her strong hooves once and found her bearing. ‘But a name is just a name. I can remember the lessons they show me.’ She looked at her mane, her curling waterfall of hair, pink as the dawn sky. She thought of the green stallion, dragging her to safety despite the pain it caused him and, like drop of ink in a pool of water, a stripe of lush green ran through her hair beside the pink. Turning to the mares attending her, she smiled. “Alright, let us go then.”

The ponies brought her to a glade of clovers and sat her down. The blue mare sat behind her, humming a soothing song as she groomed Celestia’s pink mane with her tongue, carefully untangling burrs and thorns knotted in the flowing hair. The sandy mare circled her, her deep brown eyes taking stock of Celestia’s cuts and scrapes. Where she stepped, the clovers bloomed into tiny white and lilac flowers. Celestia was entranced by them, and so almost didn’t notice it when the sandy pony rested beside her and began to clean her wounds with her tongue.

Comforted by their soothing presence and the care they gave her, Celestia looked out on the plain. There were hundreds of ponies galloping across it. Some veered close to the glade of clovers, close enough to smile and wave. Others danced with one another, savouring the dying light of the sky. Still others raced each other, moving so fast Celestia knew she could never catch up. Each and every pony was subtly different from the next, but they all had two things in common.

First, wherever a pony walked, plants would spring into life. Flowers bloomed at the hooves of some as they galloped. Spindly saplings rose in the wake of others, forests in their infancy. Some left only trails of weeds, but even they bloomed into pretty flowers that stretched for the sun. Each pony treated the vegetation differently. Some ignored them, too busy chasing butterflies or each other. Others showed love and care to their plants, bringing them water and tending to them lovingly. Celestia could see several ponies in particular dance in excitement as a sapling grew to become a tall and proud apple tree. Some trampled flowers underhoof unthinkingly, others rolled around and played, still others simply grazed, content with their lot.

The second thing they had in common was, eventually, be it with a smile and a wave to Celestia or with a furrowed brow or with a determined expression, each and every last one of them would turn and gallop towards the horizon.

Leaving her behind.

“Where are they going?” Celestia asked, watching as several fillies raced each other into the distant light of the setting sun, never to return.

“Where does anypony go?” the blue mare replied. Daisies grew at her hooves, and she placed a crown of them atop Celestia’s now-groomed head.

“Are you going there too?” Celestia asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes, but you’ll be alright,” the sandy mare assured her, rising to her hooves. “Your cuts are clean, and they are healing well.” She turned and started to trot away, clovers blossoming at her hoofsteps. The blue Earth pony followed, giving Celestia one last happy wave before heading for the horizon beside the sandy mare, trailing daisies.

Celestia waved them goodbye, suppressing a sigh. Her mane, now clean of thorns and tangles, caught her attention. Looking at the dark turquoise stripe running through it, she resolved to remember the kindness of the mares who had cleaned her wounds and groomed her coat. Their memory in her heart, she allowed her mane to be dyed once more, this time by a streak of cyan. At a loss for what else to do after that resolution, she simply sat alone and watched the ponies roam the grassland. Occasionally a pony would wander up to her to share a flower or ask a question, but they quickly left once they were satisfied, galloping towards the horizon.

Feeling lonely, Celestia approached a group of dancing ponies, who looked overjoyed to see her. As one herd she and the ponies danced and laughed, and for a while, Celestia could forget the ache of her wounds. For a while, she forgot about the briar patch.

But the sky grew dark, and night fell. The ponies yawned and fell asleep, and the world was quiet. Celestia was left alone with her thoughts, so she roamed among the sleeping ponies searching for a companion. Before she realised, she found herself staring once more into the black briar patch that had caught her before. Her heart trembled to look at it, but she steeled herself and looked down at her hooves. They were strong, carved from marble and resolve.

She was as strong as the earth. She could crush the thorns, trample them underfoot.

“What are you doing?” asked a voice, startling her. She glanced in the direction of the voice, spotting its owner. It was a blue Pegasus mare with a fluffy mane, pastel yellow like a cloud at dawn.

“I’m going into the briar patch!” Celestia called in response. “My hooves are strong now, I can crush the thorns before they can cut me!”

“But it’s so dark! You’ll get lost!” protested the pegasus. She glided towards Celestia and nuzzled her, worried and needful. “What would we do if we lost you?”

“The ponies don’t need me. They’ll always have the horizon,” Celestia reassured the little pony.

“Can I help you then, at least?” the blue mare asked hesitantly.

Celestia considered it. She glanced at the green stripe flowing though her hair, and then at the mare’s blue wings. “Are your wings strong?”

“The strongest!” the pegasus said enthusiastically, though her words were undermined slightly as she shot her wings a quick, apprehensive glance.

Celestia only smiled. “Then can you fly above the black briar patch and see if you can spot what I’m looking for?”

The pegasus nodded eagerly and took off into the air. Celestia watched as she spent several minutes circling in the sky above the vast clutch of thorns, only to return with a dejected expression. “I thought I saw something,” she said as she landed beside Celestia. “But it was too dark. I’m sorry I couldn’t help.”

“You’ve been of great help,” Celestia assured the mare. She gave her a smile before growing solemn, looking out over the dark briars. “If it’s too dark to see anything from the outside, I won’t be able to see anything if I wander in. You were right, I’ll only get lost...”

Both mares were silent, until the pegasus suddenly perked up. “Oh, I have an idea!” she exclaimed. With a beat of her wings she soared into the sky and snatched a star from the lingering patch of night sky far above the plain.

“Strong wings indeed!” Celestia laughed, stomping her hooves in applause as the pegasus soared back down, the glimmering prize tightly gripped between her jaws. She landed beside Celestia and began to scrape in the dirt. Realising her intentions, Celestia dragged her hoof across the ground, digging a modest trench for her. The pegasus dropped the star, the bright little seed, into the trench, and together they covered it back up with soil.

The fruit of their labour quickly and literally became apparent as a sapling sprung from the ground. Cheering, the pegasus danced around it until it grew into a tall, slender tree adorned with tiny silver leaves. Four flowers sat nestled inside the cushion of those leaves, and they shone like the star that grew it. Celestia basked in the gentle light it radiated, and found it magnificent - soft as moonlight, but strong and clear.

“This is beautiful...” she murmured, running her white muzzle among the leaves of a low hanging branch. At her touch they clattered together with a musical sound, like a wind chime.

“Explorers of old have used the stars to navigate since the sky itself was born,” the pegasus explained. “Now, the pony in that briar patch will be able to find her way out!”

“I’m worried it seems too shallow...”

“Let’s find out!” the blue pegasus said, spreading her wings. She launched herself high in the air and landed on a wayward cloud, her eyes focused on the vast briar patch below. “Yes! It’s working! Come see for yourself!”

“I-!” Celestia began, before halting. She glanced at her back and gave her white wings an experimental flap. “Alright! I’m coming up then!” It only took a single beat of her wings for her to soar high above the plains and the thorny chasm, and after a brief glide to savour the sensation of flying, she joined the blue pegasus atop her fluffy perch. Smiling at her, Celestia then looked downwards and marvelled at the endless green land below. “Amazing... it goes on forever...” she gasped.

The blue mare nodded, and nestled into Celestia’s side. “Mmm hmm,” she murmured idly. “That briar patch seems small in comparison, doesn’t it?” Celestia had to agree – from her vantage point on the cloud, the thorny chasm seemed little more than a black smudge on the endless expanse of the plain, unable to compete in size or colour with the forests and gardens the sleeping ponies below had grown all across the landscape.

Still, the briar patch was the reason she had flown this high in the first place, so she turned her attention back to it, noting the light of the four star-trees. Combined, they shed enough light to illuminate all but the deepest, darkest tangle of dagger-like thorns. Celestia squinted hard, looking deep into that clutch of thorns – and something looked back. She jumped back, startled, as two turquoise, serpentine eyes glowered up at her from the shadows. “Something is in there!” she whispered urgently to the pegasus. “It can see us! It can find its way out of there now!”

The blue mare looked up at her sleepily. “Are you worried that this was all a big mistake?” she asked knowingly. Celestia bit her lip, and the pegasus nuzzled her comfortingly. “Don’t worry. It’s scary, but nopony deserves to be trapped in those briars. She’s jealous now, but once the stars guide her home, she’ll see how wonderful your garden is, and will love you again.”

“A-are you sure?”

The pegasus kissed her on the tip of her muzzle. “How could she not?” she asked lovingly. Celestia found herself smiling shyly as the pegasus yawned once again and settled down to rest on the cloud.

The darkness of the sky gave way to soft yellows and pinks as the sun rose quietly from the horizon. “It’s dawn... but you’ve been up all night...” Celestia mused, looking at the pegasus nestled in beside her. “Are you tired?”

“So tired...” the sleepy mare replied. “But I wanted to help you more than I wanted to sleep.”

Celestia smiled, a hint of sadness in her eyes. “Well, you can rest now. You’ve earned it.” The pegasus merely mumbled softly before drifting off into a deep and peaceful sleep. Carefully, Celestia rose and hopped off the cloud, and with one well-placed beat of her wings, sent the cloud drifting off towards the rising sun.

Celestia didn’t wave or call goodbye, but as she watched the mare float off into the horizon, her mane flared with a deep blue streak the same hue as the kindly pegasus’ coat.

So, winged and strong-hoofed, Celestia soared across the plains, watching with happiness as the ponies began to rise from their slumber and roam the land. She flew from cloud to cloud amongst pegasi who were trailed by fluffy dandelion seeds, before descending to earth. There, she trotted along rows of trees, greeting their caretakers, and ambled through patches of flowers, smiling at the foals playing within.

She roamed for what felt like years, but always remained within sight of the briar patch and the star-tree watching over it. Soon, the sun began to crawl low in the sky and Celestia began to make her way back towards the foreboding chasm.

On her way there, she was pleasantly surprised as a little unicorn, barely more than a filly, wandered up to her. Lavender was the colour of her coat, and lavender was the plant that bloomed in her wake.

“You know about these plants, don’t you?” the filly asked.

Celestia considered the question. “I must, considering anypony who knows more has left long ago. What are you curious about?”

The filly paused. Her horn glowed, and she placed her little hoof firmly to the ground. “See?” she said, lifting her hoof to reveal the flower underneath. It was a daisy – not a lavender blossom, but a happy white and yellow daisy.

“Can you show me again?” Celestia asked after a moment of surprised silence. The filly nodded eagerly and, horn glowing, she pressed her hoof into the earth several more times, each little hoofstep growing a different flower – a scraggly dandelion, a bright daffodil, a somewhat distressing buttercup, a delicate orchid, a fragrant clump of thyme and a vibrant red poppy.

“Why, you have a very special gift!” Celestia praised the unicorn. She leaned down to smell the poppy. Finding it pleasantly fragrant, she glanced over at the filly for permission. When she nodded, Celestia carefully plucked the poppy’s bloom from the stem and chewed it thoughtfully. It was smooth and velvety, quite palpable. Swallowing the flower, she smiled at the lavender filly. “It is wonderful... I’ve never met a pony with your raw ability. Would you like to walk with me a while?”

The unicorn broke out into a beaming smile and happily joined Celestia in her journey through the final stretch of the garden. Together they talked of many things – Celestia told her about the different plants she had seen and the dance circles she had joined in with, the filly hanging onto her every word. They discussed how Celestia had seen the ponies put their plants to use, which flowers had the nicest scents and appearances. Celestia warned her about buttercups and nightshade and other poisonous plants, which to avoid and which to be wary of.

“And the briars?” the lavender unicorn asked eventually, as the chasm loomed into their vision. Celestia looked at the unicorn appraisingly, and found she wasn’t a mere filly anymore – she was a grown mare, at the cusp of adulthood, looking out at the world with a pair of bright eyes and a confident bearing.

“The briars are something I had to deal with long ago,” Celestia said, feeling her long-closed wounds begin to ache. “There is somepony in those briars, furious and hurting. I want to help, but I can’t.” She sighed. “I have hooves strong enough to crush the vines once I get them underhoof, and wings strong enough to soar above them and find whoever is trapped, but I lack a horn to sweep aside the thorns and stop myself from being hurt and tangled inside.”

“I have a horn,” the unicorn said.

Celestia froze as the realisation washed over her. “Yes... you could sweep them aside easily...” she said slowly, before shaking her head. “But it’s not enough... you can’t go alone. We need more than a horn, we need –”

She didn’t even need to finish. “Strong hooves and swift wings, right?” the unicorn asked quickly, more of a reminder than anything else, before she turned and ran. For a horrible moment Celestia thought she was running towards the horizon, but her heart calmed when the mare simply began to wind her way through the groves and trees of the lush landscape.

Celestia hung back, observing the unicorn. Already, the little mare was speaking with an orange Earth pony underneath an apple tree. It didn’t take long for the strong-hoofed mare to smile and nod, following the purple pony in her quest.

Next, to Celestia’s surprise, was another unicorn – a prim and proper mare with a lush white coat, who was scrutinising several gemstones. However, a few words from Celestia’s little unicorn had the prim mare tossing the jewels aside and joining their crusade.

Next was a pink Earth pony, who found the group rather than the other way around. She introduced herself by leaping at the clever unicorn and chattering excitedly, pleading for an invite to whatever party was being planned.

Meanwhile, a cyan pegasus with a rainbow mane descended from a cloud to watch the commotion. Amused, she bantered with the two Earth ponies for a while and, hearing their troubles, joined without a second thought.

Last was a butter-yellow pegasus resting in a glade filled with butterflies. The colourful insects flew off as the group approached her, startling the timid girl, who shrank away from the clever unicorn as she tried to explain the situation. Saddened as the pegasus shook her head fearfully, the group turned and left. But Celestia, watching from afar, saw the conflicted look on the shy pegasus’ face, and was pleased to see her muster up her courage and flutter after the group before they got too far away.

Night had set around them, and it was only by the light of the star trees that they could see the twisted thorn patch, where... it was lurking. Celestia realised the group of six ponies were right at the edge of the foreboding briars, and she quickened her pace to catch up. But she was too far away – the ponies had begun without her.

The two pegasi flew high over the brambles and with the aid of the star-tree’s luminance spotted the figure lurking within. They called out a direction to the two unicorns, who turned their attention to the briars. Her clever unicorn’s horn glowed, and in response the thorny vines were uprooted and cast aside. The knowledge of plants Celestia had shared let her know precisely where to tug and precisely where to instruct the prim unicorn beside her to snip and cut at the thorns. The Earth ponies joined in, stomping on the briars that the lavender mare brushed aside, grinding them to dust and preventing them from ever growing again.

Soon, a path was clear – far sooner than Celestia expected. She hadn’t caught up to them yet! She raced full-gallop towards them, just as the deepest darkness of the briar patch swelled forward – a darkness with two wrath-filled turquoise eyes at its head. A monster emerged, inky black and studded with cruel thorns. Everything about it shrieked sharp and sinister, from the talons running up its legs to the misshapen, shredded wings that dripped with tar to a curving horn atop its head.

Celestia felt panic in her chest and bile in her throat. Part of her wanted to scream out to the ponies, to her clever unicorn, to run, to flee this terror. An even larger part of her wanted to leap between the ponies and the beast, to drive it back into the thorns where it could rot for the rest of eternity, unable to hurt anypony ever again.

But the smallest, most unsure sliver of her heart told her ‘Wait. Look at your little ponies’. And for some reason, she did.

They hadn’t moved an inch. They stood in a semi-circle mere paces from the monstrosity but hadn’t budged, though the shy pegasus clearly shrank in its presence. Celestia slowed in her mad dash, confused, until she stopped entirely, just outside the boundary of the new path. She watched as the monster slowly turned to look at each of the ponies, one by one, before finally looking up and locking eyes with Celestia.

It took a step forward, and the light of the stars above died. It took another step, and the star-trees were snuffed out, sinking the world into utter darkness. One final step echoed through the silence, and for a moment Celestia believed all was lost.

Then, she heard a soft sound, that of a light hoof pressing down into the earth firmly. Celestia knew it was her clever lavender unicorn, she could feel it in her heart.

A pinprick of light emerged from the darkness. It drew itself up, quickly growing into a wispy silver sapling. But it didn’t stop growing – before Celestia’s eyes, it became a tall, stout willow with wide, far-reaching branches that hung over the six mares and the monster like a canopy. Leaves began to unfurl, weighing down the boughs of the tree until a thick curtain of silvery-white leaves enveloped the ponies in its embrace.

In the sky, the stars began to emerge once more, and for the first time Celestia saw the moon rise in the sky over the plain. It hung in the air, a priceless jewel radiating ethereal light, to which the willow responded, radiating its own glow, bright and clear.

Celestia took a moment longer to drink in the sight, before stepping through the radiant curtain of leaves. She saw the six mares surrounding the nightmare, which stood defeated, silent and trembling. But by the light of the willow tree, the shadows sticking to the beast were banished, and everything became clear.

It was just a pony.

The dark coat was tar and ichor, staining a deep blue coat. It hung in clumps on her feathered wings.

The talons running up her legs were tangles of thin, evil briars, running up and entwining her body, claws digging in.

Even her horn was tangled, with one massive claw-like thorn eclipsing it atop her forehead and weighing heavily down upon her.

Just a pony.

She looked at Celestia with watery eyes. Cracked and wavering, her voice nevertheless was heard clearly by all under the willow tree. “Sister...”

“Luna...” Celestia’s stomach turned as that realisation set in. All along, all that the “monster” had ever been was a pony, her own sister, snared tight by the cruel thorns. But she had known that all along, hadn’t she?

When did I begin to fear you?’ she asked silently, not daring to break her sister’s gaze. ‘Or is it the thorns I fear, and you were just a mask to distance myself from them with? In many ways, you reflect me, and if the thorns could hurt you so...

Her sister stumbled, her strength giving out. Celestia rushed forward to close the distance, but the six mares were faster. Her lavender unicorn cradled Luna in a magical cushion, while the white unicorn carefully snipped and unwound the briars studded into her mane and coat. The pink Earth pony and the shy yellow pegasus carefully began to pluck the thorns from her side, taking care not to worsen her injuries as they eased the evil little hooks out of her skin, while the orange Earth pony and the rainbow-maned pegasus stomped down on the thorns that were cast aside, crushing them over and over until not even splinters remained.

Slowly, cautiously, almost afraid of rejection, Celestia approached her sister. The darker alicorn shrank under her gaze, eyes wide and trembling, but she was surrounded by the ponies grooming her, so couldn’t flee even if she had the strength. Slow and careful still, Celestia lowered herself to the ground, resting beside her sister, uncaring of the black ichor now oozing onto her coat. She knew it could be cleaned, so wordlessly she began to groom her sister’s mane, just as was done for her so long ago.

They worked in silence, Luna trembling as thorns were plucked from her hair and skin, but never crying, never weeping. On the contrary, as Celestia, the clever unicorn and the five other mares slowly cleaned her wounds and coat of the black stain, Luna grew still and sure, her posture straightening and her ears beginning to perk up.

Soon, Luna gathered her strength and rose onto shaky legs. She was silent, at a loss for what to say. Words, however, weren’t necessary. Celestia rested on the grass to her left, the lavender unicorn at her right and the other five mares in a loose circle around her, silently assuring the darker alicorn that she wasn’t alone in the dark anymore, that she had a herd once more.

“What now?” Luna finally asked.

“Go explore,” Celestia said. “Meet with others. I’ll be here if you need me.”

Luna smiled and hugged Celestia. Then, with hesitant steps growing in confidence, she set out on her own into the garden.

For a while Celestia watched her sister roam, until her attention was caught by the ponies who had helped tend to her. They bowed respectfully before turning together and trotting off... towards the horizon. ‘Ah...’ Celestia noted with a pang of sadness. ‘It’s time already. And I had barely even gotten the chance to thank them properly...’ But everypony left eventually. Though a part of her was saddened, it warmed her heart to see them leave together, as friends.

The lavender unicorn rose to follow, but Celestia saw her pause, conflicted. The others stopped as well, looking back at her, curiosity and concern written across their faces. She looked at Celestia hesitantly. “I...”

“Go, my dear,” Celestia replied with a smile. She leaned over and kissed her on the forehead, just beside her horn. “I won’t hold you back.”

The unicorn’s features lit up with a smile as she hugged Celestia goodbye. She rose and galloped towards her friends, and together they set out on their journey. Celestia’s eyes never strayed from them as they galloped far away, leaving six trails of flowers in their wake that tapered into one, fading into the distance.

Celestia closed her eyes as a feeling of completeness washed over her. She felt her mane ripple and knew a lavender streak now ran through it. She felt a wash of magic settle on her like a crown and knew a proud white horn was atop her head. When she opened her eyes again, the horizon glimmered with the imminent dawn, a beacon to guide the six friends on their journey.

She noticed, now, that instead of a new highlight the remaining part of her mane that was pink had blended with the lavender to create a soft purple, though the tips still seemed pink in the light in comparison to the cooler colours running beside it. She studied it a while, curious as to its meaning. If it seemed pink still, was it that she only appeared to be the mare she once was? Was it that the briars had rubbed off on her, that she was now that much darker? Or... was it that she was now that much deeper? Darkness wasn’t something to fear, so long as it was deep – the brightest of gems hid in the deepest of caves, after all. In the end, Celestia found the darker purple appropriate – the pink-haired mare pulled from the briar patch so long ago wasn’t gone, only changed, matured.

So then, with lavender, cyan, turquoise and azure highlights in her hair, with strong hooves on her feet, with great white wings at her back and proud white horn atop her head, Celestia strode forth to survey her garden. For though she could not follow the ponies in their quest for the horizon, it didn’t mean she remained static. Just as the garden grew with each pony that passed through it, so too did her heart.

These fleeting interactions were what made her the mare she was – the caretaker of the plain, tending to the garden so the legacy of the ponies would still be seen even long after they had departed.

Even if she did sometimes glance towards the horizon and wonder...

“Celestia?” a voice called, freezing the white mare in her tracks.

The dawn broke over the horizon, and Celestia turned to face it disbelievingly. There, she saw the lavender unicorn, framed by the rising sun, return. Celestia’s mind was blank, unable to process anything besides this impossible sight, that somepony had returned. Celestia’s heart rose hopefully, but in the same instant her gut sank into a pit of trepidation. ‘Why has she returned? Has something happened?

The lavender unicorn was trotting towards her, her head scanning the surroundings in search of something. She was taller now, her legs lithe and slender, her hooves small yet sure. Her coat gleamed in the morning sun, and behind her trailed not only mere flowers, but shrubs and trees of all kinds and brambles, yes, brambles that grew heavy with plump, juicy blackberries.

She was so beautiful. Celestia surprised herself with that thought, but she couldn’t deny it. She was so beautiful, and she had returned.

She strode slowly through the plain, trailing her forest behind, and smiled at Celestia. Celestia was still so stunned by the sight that she almost didn’t realise the unicorn wasn’t slowing to stop. The lavender mare instead walked on, brushing lightly against the feathers of Celestia’s extended wing. That hint of a touch brought her back to reality, and she turned quickly to walk with the unicorn. She couldn’t let this chance, this never before felt opportunity slip away, she couldn’t!

And yet, she had to know. “Why?” she asked the unicorn. “Why are you here? Why did you return? What about the horizon? Everypony goes!” ‘Please don’t say you stayed for me,’ was her silent plea. ‘Please don’t say you sacrificed the horizon for me. There’s a world out there, I know there is, please tell me you saw it! Please tell me I didn’t steal it!’

And though Celestia hadn’t voiced her fears, the unicorn’s expression showed she had heard them loud and clear. “But I did go, Celestia,” she assured her, and the garden’s keeper felt the vice loosen from around her heart. “I chased the horizon, and it lead me here. I’m looking for something, you see.” She hopped forward a step, and a multitude of shrubs began to grow behind her. She regarded them somewhat sadly before looking up at Celestia, her eyes lost. “What do you see when you look at me?”

“I see a beautiful unicorn with heart and talent like no other,” Celestia replied, her heart beating fast.

“Do you know what I see?” the lavender mare asked, looking back along her trail to the forest in their wake. “A pony with no flower of her own. I watched the other ponies, and I listened to your tales of ponies long passed, and I grew their flowers. But where’s mine?”

“But what about your magnificent willow?”

“That was your sister’s tree, not mine. All I did was remind her of it.”

Celestia found herself at a loss for how to reply, but as the unicorn continued to walk on, she found her heart longing to follow. She glanced over at her sister in the distance, who was happily roaming the gardens with a veritable herd of ponies around her. The briars were gone, her sister was safe... Celestia had neither reason nor desire not to join the lavender mare.

“Shall I walk with you?” she asked, quickening her pace to catch up. “I know these plains well. We might find rich soil where your flower could grow.”

The unicorn’s face lit up in a smile, and she jumped in step beside Celestia. “That’s just what I was hoping you’d say!” Celestia returned the smile, her heart fluttering as a new hope began to awaken inside her. Could this... could this finally be her chance to chase the horizon?

They set out together, side by side in search of good earth, but before long the unicorn sprinted a few paces ahead. Celestia picked up speed to follow, but when the unicorn shot her a teasing grin what started as a casual trot quickly became a full on gallop. They raced each other through the gardens, laughing like fillies all the while as they dashed ahead of one another, neither really trying to win. They darted between trees and leaped over shrubs and bushes, calling out apologies to any pony they startled in their race but never slowing down for an instant.

A dense thicket of trees and whitethorn bushes suddenly appeared before them, blocking their way. The unicorn faltered, alarmed by their sudden appearance, no doubt apprehensive of the thorns. Celestia only grinned – they were nothing compared to the black briars, in fact they seemed positively friendly and protective in contrast! Her horn lit as she reached out with her power, and the thorns graciously parted to allow them to pass. Together, she and the unicorn broke through the thicket –

And the endless plain opened up to them once more, taking the unicorn’s breath away. She quickly came to a stop, staring in wonder at the flat grasslands before her. “This is...”

“Unexplored ground...” Celestia finished for her by way of explanation. “That’s right, you’ve lived your entire life in the garden, haven’t you?”

She nodded. “When I went exploring with my friends, I saw bits and pieces of the plains, but nothing so vast! It goes on forever!”

Celestia grinned mischievously. “Let’s test that theory,” she said, right before galloping off, resuming the race. She laughed as the unicorn squawked indignantly at being left behind, and casually glanced back mid-run to see her pounding her legs against the springy grass in an effort to catch up. She wasn’t trailed by flowers or trees anymore – clearly, the mare was only focused on finding her own flower right now, not spreading the growth of others.

Celestia’s grin inched that much wider. It suited her just fine – it made things special, even. It was just the two of them and the open plain, no briars or chasms to hem them in and distract them anymore, no path of vegetation that others could follow and find them with. The wind caressed her mane with its cooling touch and carried the lavender mare’s laughter to her ears, and Celestia felt free.

And when she wasn’t looking... when neither of them really were, while they were savouring only the run through the plain and nothing else...

Something small blossomed between them.

Something so small that it almost went unnoticed. It was only the unicorn’s sudden cry of joy that stopped Celestia from running past it completely. She ground to a stop and turned to see her circling a spot in the earth excitedly, practically prancing with joy. “I-I did it!” she cried. “I found it! We found it! This is mine!”

“Oh?” Celestia trotted quickly over and leaned down beside where the mare was hopping about, quickly spotting the source of her joy - a tiny shoot with red leaves poking out of the thick carpet of grass.

Her unicorn finally settled down, resting beside Celestia. “What kind of plant do you think it’s going to be?” she asked, half-whispering.

“That’s up to you,” Celestia replied. She truthfully couldn’t tell. “Tend to it now, or it’ll wither.”

The unicorn nodded and closed her eyes. Her horn glowed, and the little red shoot responded, twitching and standing a little straighter. She cracked one eyelid open to sneak a peek at her progress, and giddily shut it once more, focusing her magic harder.

The little shoot began to grow, slowly but surely. Under the unicorn’s steady efforts and a few words of advice or guidance from Celestia, the shoot became a spindly sapling, which in turn grew into a slender tree adorned with red-leaves. It should have fascinated Celestia, but it didn’t. She couldn’t quite grasp the shape of the leaves nor the height of its branches nor the exact colour of its luscious fruit, growing plump and ripe. She couldn’t quite see the tree, but for a very simple reason. She was too occupied with watching the unicorn laugh and dance in joy, too busy smiling.

She was doing a lot of that lately – smiling. How could she not? Goodness, she felt so free!

“Yesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyes!” The unicorn scampered around the trunk of the tree, franticly studying it as if it might disappear in an instant. “Okay, so it’s clearly deciduous and flowering, it seems to bear fruit – fruit! Oh!” She turned to Celestia. “It’s grown fruit, do you see? How do we get it?” she asked, panting slightly from her exuberant display.

Celestia stood and smiled knowingly. “Like this!” she said suddenly, and in one swift movement she planted her forehooves in the ground, swung her body around and gave the trunk a sharp buck with her strong hind legs.

One single piece of fruit fell before the unicorn’s hooves, who blinked and snapped out of the slight surprise Celestia’s sudden action had left her in. She lay down on the grass and began to study the bright crimson fruit. Celestia lay down beside her, and the unicorn shifted in response, resting slightly against the white mare. “Tough outer husk...” she was muttering to herself, peering critically at her prize. “Is it ripe?”

“Only one way to find out,” Celestia reminded her.

She nodded and, with a flash of magic, neatly bisected the crimson fruit. Carefully, she prodded the pink flesh inside. “I’m not sure it’s fully ripe yet...” she said, her voice hesitant.

“Why not try it and see?” Celestia urged her.

The lavender mare looked longingly at the fruit, but pulled her gaze away. “You first,” she said seriously, staring Celestia directly in the eye. “It has to be you.”

The alicorn didn’t protest. It made sense, in that moment. The fruit was the culmination of their journey together, so she understood how significant this was for the both of them. Celestia needed to be sure that the fruit the tree bore was palatable... no, sweet! Succulent! Wholesome! She needed to be sure it was perfect, her clever unicorn deserved no less!

She needed to be sure...

Tough husk shucked, half of the fruit was levitated before her. She carefully bit down on it and chewed slowly, savouring the flavour.

It was... ambrosia. It had to be. What else could taste so perfect, such a subtle blend of a thousand flavours and emotions? What else could match the way it made her heart flutter and her breath hitch, or how it blended velvety sweetness and sharp tartness and echoes of bitterness? The flavour almost overwhelmed her, but she knew she would crave more before long. She couldn’t go back.

“Well? How is it?” the unicorn asked, her voice hopeful, yet almost pleading.

Celestia only smiled and nuzzled her tenderly. “Absolutely perfect, my love,” she murmured. “Absolutely perfect.”

The mare smiled and nuzzled Celestia below her jaw, resting her lavender head softly on her neck. “Good...” she whispered, and for a while, they simply sat in silence, relishing the tingles and sensations they felt merely by being in contact with one another.

So, resting below the swaying red leaves, they fed each other sliced fruit and watched the sunset, together.

~{C}~

Composure, chapter 3, end.