The years have passed well for Princess Twilight and Princess Cadence: the Crystal Empire is prosperous, their ponies are happy, and their love is strong. All is well, until Twilight makes a discovery that will upend their lives forever.
The years have passed well for Twilight and Cadence: the Crystal Empire is prosperous, their ponies are happy, and their love is strong. All is well, until Twilight makes a discovery that threatens to destroy the life they've built together.
In Equestria, Princess Celestia struggles with feelings she thought conquered long ago as she is torn between anger at the past, guilt in the present, and hope for the future.
Originally posted separately on Magic of Love: Twidance Prompt Collab, and anyone looking for more TwiDance goodness is encouraged to head over there.
As the sparkling quartz doors of the Imperial Throne Room closed with a thud, Princess Cadence released a long-suffering sigh of relief. She stretched out her wings and gave a few light flaps to work out the kinks from being held closed for so long. Annoying tingles and twinges ran up and down her spine, side effects of being forced to hold a regal posture for hours at a time.
“Some days, I just don’t know how Celestia did this for a thousand years,” she muttered dryly. She walked unsteadily down the stairs. Her hind legs, having long ago fallen asleep, protested their neglect with the irritating sensation of pins and needles. With a tired smile, she dismissed the Throne Room guard detail and made her way to her chambers.
Along the way, she had plenty of time to curse the layout of the Crystal Spire: as Princess, her chambers were located near the top of the structure. Unfortunately, the throne room was near the bottom, only one level removed from the entry foyer, to shorten the journey for ponies seeking audience. While that was all well and good for her ponies, it did make for a long climb to her bed on top of an even longer day of Court.
As she cleared the final flight of stairs, the stresses of the day began to melt away. The comforting image emblazoned on her door called out to her, signaling her daily sojourn was nearing its end. The two intertwined Cutie Marks, a Crystal Heart and a field of overlapping white and pink starbursts, reminded her of the thin silver band wrapped around the base of her horn.
“Good evening, Your Majesty,” greeted Sir Pyrite, one of the two Crystal Knights assigned to guard her chamber doors. His partner, Sir Rigid, also gave a shallow bow as she approached.
“Evening, boys,” she replied casually. She and Twilight made a point to be close to their personal guards, and Pyrite and Rigid were closer than most. Their official assignment was as part of Twilight's retinue, but the two Princesses spent so much time together it hardly mattered. Cadence knew them well enough to know Rigid was just returned to duty after Twilight granting him leave for the birth of his first foal(a colt), and that Pyrite had the second-best poker face in the Imperial barracks.
Both having been practically raised in the Canterlot Palace, she and Twilight had found befriending their guards a comforting familiarity when they had first come to rule the Empire. In return, after Sombra, a friendly Sovereign was a welcome change for the crystal ponies, and the Knights were the ponies with whom they spent the most time: a bit of friendly conversation with a guard or a maid tended to have a Butterfly Effect as gossip diffused through the Spire, then out through the city.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Cadence couldn’t help but think of the many lessons on ruling imparted to her over cups of tea with her Aunt.
Today, however, had been worse than normal and left her little energy for chitchat. As the door closed behind her, she made a note to apologize in the morning for her brusque manner.
The moment she was alone, she began shedding her regalia. As she crossed her bedroom to her mirror, she noticed Twilight sitting by their balcony doors, her back to the room. Just seeing her wife put her in a better mood. A flicker of blue magic tossed her crown on her makeup desk, and she moved to envelop her wife from behind. Her wings spread forward, cocooning Twilight as Cadence closed her eyes and buried her nose in her wife’s mane. The scent of lilacs and lavender filled her nostrils.
“You have no idea how lucky you were to play hooky today,” she teased. As Crystal Consort, Twilight had nearly all the same powers as her, and frequently sat in on Court, or even conducted it herself. Having Twilight by her side made even the most insufferable petitioners more bearable. Some days, though, Twilight’s schedule kept her away. Those days tended to be the longest, the most frustrating, and the most tiring.
Cadence sagged, her weight falling against Twilight’s back, and she noticed how tense the muscles against her chest were.
“Twilight, is something wrong?”
Twilight’s breathing hitched, and her face, turned away from Cadence, looked towards an array of photos on their dresser. The pictures showed various snapshots of them across their lives: the long-past foalsitting days, their early courtship, the two of them together at Twilight’s coronation as an Equestrian Princess, their wedding, their honeymoon…
A goofy grin spread across Cadence’s face as the last photo, depicting her and Twilight on a beach in Bactria, brought back recollections of the tradition newlywed celebrations that had filled the nights in the Camel nation. They'd been clumsy, hot, passionate nights, and she cherished the memories they'd made.
“A thousand lifetimes,” Twilight whispered, her voice hoarse. The dopey smile on Cadence’s face vanished as she turned to Twilight in concern.
“Twilight?” she asked worriedly.
“I was ready to spend a thousand lifetimes with you,” Twilight croaked. “There was nopony else I would have rather spent my eternity with.”
Confusion and unease washed over Cadence. She tightened her wings around Twilight as she tried to lean around and catch her eye. Cadence had to crane her neck to see her face, she saw Twilight had turned her attention to their enormous, double-Princess sized bed. She followed Twilight’s gaze, and her stomach dropped through the floor.
Sitting limp on their plush, violet comforter was a used condom.
Cadence’s eyes swelled, and her jaw dropped wordlessly. Her mouth was as dry as the Saddle Arabian deserts, and suddenly her body felt as if it was made of lead.
“I never believed the rumors, the gossip about you,” Twilight seemed to be speaking as much to herself as Cadence, “There was never a shadow of doubt in my mind that you were being faithful. I loved you, with all my heart. I trusted you with everything.”
As Twilight spoke, fresh tears began to cascade down her salt-streaked cheeks.
“I thought you loved me.”
Cadence’s heart shattered at Twilight’s broken, betrayed whimper.
“I do love you!” Cadence insisted, tightening the feathered cage and throwing her forelegs around Twilight’s side.
“Then why?” Twilight mewled, choking back sobs.
“I-I don’t know! It was stupid! I was stupid!” Cadence began to cry herself, the consequences of her actions proving too much as she desperately clung to Twilight’s unresponsive form.
“How many times?”
“W-what?”
“How. Many. Times.” Even as she asked how many lovers her wife had taken behind her back, Twilight didn’t seem to be able to summon the strength for proper anger, only a dim facsimile.
Cadence wanted to answer, wanted to tell Twilight that it was just once, just one stupid mistake. A fluke, an outlier in the data. Something to be disregarded in the grand scheme of things.
But she couldn’t.
Not honestly, at least, and in the heat of the moment she lacked the cognitive order necessary to even begin to form a deception. Truth be told, she had lost track of how many times she had forsaken her wife, and the realization made her sick.
Cadence’s silence plunged another dagger into Twilight’s chest, and she punctured the silence with another question.
“Who?”
Please don’t ask that.
Unlike her previous question, Twilight seemed to fixate on drawing an answer. She asked again, “Cadence, who?”
Please, please don’t ask me that.
Cadence clung as tightly as she could to Twilight, hoping against hope that the gesture would placate her, even for only a moment.
It did not, and Cadence watched in growing horror as an aura of raspberry light engulfed Twilight’s horn and the offending rubber. Cadence’s recognized it immediately as an identification spell, and before she could even attempt to intervene a cloud of grey smoke arose from their bed.
Please, Twilight, no.
The cloud slowly gained coherence as the spell worked to identify the sample’s source.
In an instant, Twilight’s lethargy was replaced with white-hot fury. Her eyes blazed, and her wings shot out to knock Cadence away. Twilight's horn ignited like a solar flare, a burning tribute to her awe-inspiring power. A blast of arcane energy like an exploding star shook the Crystal Spire to its foundations as Twilight unleashed a teleportation spell more violent than any Cadence had ever seen. In her wake, the crystal floor where Twilight had stood boiled from the wrathful spellcasting.
Cadence froze, half in agony, half in panic, as her eyes bounced between the bubbling floor and the Cutie Mark floating above their bed.
The blue kite shield emblazoned with a pink starburst stared back at her, offering nothing but silent condemnation.
Cadence sat frozen in shock, her eyes locked on the misty apparition of Shining Armor’s Cutie Mark hanging above her bed. Obscured by the swirling cloud of arcane smoke, the condom that had been her undoing lay draped across the velvety covers.
“He was supposed to flush it,” Cadence muttered to herself as she brought her legs and wings tightly to her barrel, desperately seeking any comfort she could find. “He was supposed to flush it why didn’t he flush it?”
In an instant, Cadence leapt to her hooves as her mind caught up to the present. The look of pure hatred on her wife’s face, Shining Armor’s ghostly insignia, Twilight’s raging teleportation spell…
Cadence burst through the balcony doors with such force that they were ripped from their hinges. Her wings had barely extended before she leapt from the Crystal Spire, a trail of loose papers and quills following in her wake. She banked hard to the south, her wings pounding against the air’s resistance with the force of hammer blows. In seconds the Crystal City was behind her, a shrinking outline against the horizon.
As the world was reduced to a blur, Cadence cursed her weakness. She may have been an Alicorn, but Twilight’s magic dwarfed hers in both power and skill. She couldn’t mimic Twilight’s teleportation, and as fast as she was in the air, it was an almost three hour train ride to Canterlot.
She never doubted for a moment that was where Twilight had gone: as Captain of the Royal Guard, Shining Armor made his headquarters in the Palace, and he had returned there after his visit to the Empire only the previous evening.
With another curse, the light around Cadence’s horn brightened. The papers and quills she had grabbed during her departure spun into a frenzy. They were incinerated into puffs of green smoke, dispatching them ahead of her to warn Princess Celestia.
celestia twilight is coming stop her
you have to stop twilight
shining armor is in danger
stop twilight
stp twilight
sp twight
The barrage of half-written missives had grown less legible with every frenzied repetition as Cadence’s panic overwhelmed her. Fear for Twilight, fear for Shining Armor, fear for Canterlot. She hoped, prayed, that Celestia would react fast enough to her warnings to save Shining Armor. The look in Twilight’s eyes a moment before she had unleashed the tempest of arcane fury in their quarters had struck her to the core with a fear she had never experienced.
Not even Sombra at his worst had been so terrible.
A fresh wave of disgust washed over her. She had taken Twilight –sweet, beautiful, loving Twilight– and stomped on her heart. Her betrayal had taken the most wonderful pony she had ever known and turned her into a monster.
The realization sapped the strength from her muscles, the weight of her actions suddenly landing on her shoulders. Her wingbeats slackened until the feathery appendages hung limp in the air. Gravity took every advantage it could of her lapse in resistance, and the ground rushed up to meet her. Her hooves caught on a treetop, and her world was upended. She tumbled through the air, the earth and sky blending into one green-blue swirl.
Her body crashed through the forest canopy, snapping branches as thick as her barrel like toothpicks. Her immaculate coat was marred by long, bloody scratches that snaked down her sides. Her chin bounced against a tree trunk with an audible crack, and the taste of blood filled her mouth.
She slammed into the ground, plowing through underbrush and carving a trench through the dirt. Her inertia scraped her along the ground, eventually bleeding away and leaving her in a small clearing. She wheezed for breath, and knew that only her status as an Alicorn had spared her life.
Cadence rested on the ground, not bothering to try and stand. Her entire body hurt, and blood was dripping from her mouth and pooling beneath her. She had bitten a hole in her tongue when her jaw slammed against the tree, and her right wing had broken on landing. It was pinned under her, and any movement on her part sent white-hot lances of pain up her spine.
She had no idea how long she laid in the dirt before a flash of cobalt blue magic appeared out of the corner of her eye. She attempted to raise her head, only to collapse again when the motion threatened to make her scream in agony.
Her ears caught the approaching sound of hoofsteps, and suddenly Princess Luna appeared above her wearing a deep scowl. Princess Luna looked down at her as one might an offending insect, and when she spoke, her voice was as cold as the void between stars.
“What have you done?”
Cadence had no answer for her, and could only close her eyes in shame.
The Throne Room of Canterlot Palace was packed to the rafters, quite literally when the pegasi were taken into account, with petitioners, guards, advisors, and officials. Day Court was in full swing, and for the uncountable-upon-tenth time that day alone, Celestia repressed a sigh. Alone in a crowded room described Celestia’s life rather well, in her opinion.
Princess Celestia ex Astria had 7 Cabinet officials, 12 court advisors, 28 personal guards, and over 300 Palace staff at her beck and call, but very, very few friends. She could count on her sister, of course, but her sister was also a Princess. Responsibilities meant that their schedules rarely left time for one another, and while they could choose to throw their itineraries aside for a day of bonding, the ensuing bureaucratic headaches meant they rarely indulged. When their differing sleep cycles were taken into account on top of their duties, it left Celestia very much alone.
Twilight Sparkle had been her salvation.
Celestia smiled to herself as the Minister of the Interior argued with the Minister of Finance over the cost of a railway bridge, listening to their bickering only enough to appear attentive. It had been many years since the little purple filly had unleashed a magical storm that had threatened to engulf her school, and Celestia was absolutely positive the expensive reconstruction had been entirely worth it.
In Twilight she had found, for the first time in years, a pony who wanted nothing more from her than companionship. Twilight’s heart, so pure and loving, had been overjoyed to merely spend time learning and reading with her, to bask in shared company. Twilight had never asked her for anything in her life, aside from more books and the occasional cookie. The thought made her giggle, but fortunately for her the Ministers were so engrossed in their tirades they spared her no notice.
Celestia’s gaze wandered the room, no longer bothering to conceal her distraction. She examined the half dozen stained glass windows that commemorated Twilight’s many triumphs. Her defeat of Nightmare Moon and redemption of Luna, her conquest of Discord, her courageous battle against Tirek, and of course her Coronation.
That last image depicted one of the happiest days of Celestia’s long, long life. The friend she had gained would, unlike all that had come before, never leave her. Twilight would never wither, never fade away until at last her final dying breath was carried away by the bitter, thieving wind. Her dear friend would…
Friend.
Celestia’s smile flickered and died, and she turned her eyes away from the stained glass windows, especially the ones featuring Cadence. A pang of emotion, one she refused to name even in her thoughts, pierced her chest and stole her breath.
The day of Twilight and Cadence’s wedding had been one of the hardest days of her life, almost as hard as the day she had banished her sister. Officiating the ceremony had twisted the dagger plunged into her heart until she felt like screaming, but she had worn her ceramic smile brightly and nopony had suspected a thing. Nopony suspected she would have given everything, even her Kingdom, to trade places with her niece.
Celestia’s ruminations, and the Ministers’ increasingly uncivil discourse, was abruptly interrupted by a shaking so powerful it knocked several ponies off their hooves. A roar unlike anything Celestia had ever heard tore through the air, leaving all but Celestia clutching their ears in torment. A brief, shimmering heat struck every horn in the room, and even Celestia winced in pain. The shock left a flurry of nosebleeds in its wake, and more than half the crowd moaning in discomfort or outright pain.
Celestia was on her hooves and galloping towards the source of the disturbance before her ponies had even begun to recover. She recognized the magic that had shocked her horn, and dread weighed heavily in her stomach as she passed through the labyrinthine halls.
Celestia burst through the heavy timber doors that led to the Palace courtyard, and was confronted with a warzone. The trees lining the yard had been uprooted and tossed about, charred and stripped bare of their leaves. The stone walls around the perimeter were covered in a spiderweb of cracks that placed them a hair's breadth from shattering, and the courtyard’s granite pavestones had been reduced to scorched, jagged gravel.
In the center of the devastation stood Twilight Sparkle, her hooves steaming on the blackened earth. Her mane blazed in a nonexistent wind, wisps of fire flashing in and out of existence like lightning bugs. Twilight’s horn was alight in a display of raw, unfocused power that rolled off of her in waves, choking the air with rage given form.
“WHERE IS HE?!” she bellowed, the force of her voice shattering nearby windows and releasing a hailstorm of glass.
“Twilight?” Celestia asked hesitantly, an anxious tremble coloring her tone.
Twilight turned her gaze toward Celestia, who saw that her eyes were blazing white with fury and power. Twilight recognized her, but didn’t relax. Instead, she teleported, the violence of the spell mutilating the fabric of space and releasing Twilight inches away from Celestia’s muzzle.
“Where. Is. He.”
Celestia reminded herself that she was not facing an eldritch evil, but instead her dear former pupil. The thought helped steady her reply.
“Who?”
“Shining Armor!” Twilight snarled, her clenched teethed bared.
Celestia knew where her Captain of the Guard was, but she didn’t think it would be wise to reveal that information to Twilight. Instead, she asked, “What is the matter, Twilight? Tell me, so that I may help you.” She put on a supportive smile, a genuine one, completely separate from the impression of maternal benevolence she usually maintained.
“Nopony can help me!” Spittle rained on Celestia’s muzzle, but she paid it no mind. The brightening display of enraged magic in front of her was of greater concern.
“Twilight,” Celestia replied in a calm, caring tone, “There is nothing in the world I would not do for you. Please, tell me what has gone so wrong.” She punctuated her short speech by laying a gentle hoof on Twilight’s peytral. The gold of her hoofshoes sizzled from the heat, but Celestia was undisturbed –a fortunate byproduct of her stewardship of the sun.
Twilight stared at her for a long, tense moment, seemingly at war inside her head. Rage fought hard to retain its place of glory, but it was no match for the respect and care for Celestia that Twilight held in the deepest reaches of her heart.
Like a candle dropped in the ocean, Twilight’s fires were snuffed out. She collapsed against Celestia’s chest, sobbing violently enough to nearly shake Celestia off her hooves. It was all she could do to cradle Twilight lov-tenderly, as she offered all the comfort she could.
Through her tears, Twilight choked out, “How could they do this to me?”
Celestia had no answers, and didn’t even properly understand the question. Instead, she stroked Twilight’s mane and let her cry her troubles away.
Halfway through Twilight’s breakdown, a swarm of papers materialized in clouds of green smoke and rained down on their heads. Celestia began to read, and then hugged Twilight even tighter.
The Palace receiving hall, located just outside the throne room, had been cleared of staff and guards after Princess Twilight’s sudden, violent arrival. Nearly the entire Palace had been emptied, with the staff sent home for the day and the garrison dispatched to barracks elsewhere in the city for the evening.
As such, nopony was around to see the flash of cobalt blue magic that announced the arrival of Princesses Luna and Cadence. Neither did anypony see Princess Cadence collapse to the floor a moment later, her aching body momentarily unable to support her weight.
After Luna had found her in the clearing, she had been merciful enough to cast a healing spell and ease Cadence’s array of severe injuries. She had not, however, been merciful enough to completely relieve her pain. Bones were healed and lacerations closed, but that was the furthest extent that Luna had been willing to aid her. Judging by how furious Luna seemed, Cadence counted herself lucky she hadn’t been simply left bleeding and broken in the mud.
Luna made no effort to assist her in standing, and after a few failed attempts Cadence managed to upright herself. Her legs screamed at her, begging her cease the struggle, but she ignored their protests. She forced herself to breath despite the sharp pains in her sides, courtesy of a dozen cracked (formerly shattered) ribs.
Luna, having watched Cadence’s fumbling with indifference, ignited her horn to push the heavy throne room doors open.
“Twilight Sparkle is a dear friend to me,” Luna said quietly, “but she is much more to Celestia. You would do well to mind your words.” The language itself implied nothing more than a word of caution, but Cadence felt she had just been threatened. She swallowed nervously and nodded, though she was unsure if Luna noticed the gesture.
The throne room, like the rest of the Castle, was empty, save the towering figure atop the dais at the far end of the room. Perched on the throne like a predator searching for prey, Princess Celestia eyed Cadence as an eagle would a mouse. Cadence had felt small under Luna’s angry countenance, but Celestia’s furious gaze made her feel absolutely minuscule.
Luna left Cadence’s side for her sister, but was intercepted barely a step into the room.
“Luna, I would ask you give us the room. Cadence and I have things we must discuss in private.” Celestia spoke without taking her eyes off Cadence, who looked away in shame, unable to meet her Aunt’s gaze.
Luna hesitated, hoof paused midstep as she closely scrutinized Celestia. She was clearly conflicted, and she glanced between Cadence and Celestia as she considered the request. Cadence was unsure what she feared more: Luna staying and unleashing her anger, or being left alone with Celestia.
The decision was made for her when Luna turned to leave. She paused in the doorway and looked back over her withers. “I shall remain just outside.” It was a warning clearly meant for Celestia, and that chilled Cadence to her core.
If Luna was coming to her defense, even indirectly, what did that say about Celestia?
The throne room doors slammed shut, sealing her and Celestia inside. Celestia’s gaze bore down on her with a heat a thousand-fold that of the noonday sun. Cadence hung her head, unable to look up and see the disappointment and anger rolling off her Aunt.
“H-how is Twilight?” Cadence ventured, glancing upwards. Her voice quivered, but she needed to know about her wife.
Celestia narrowed her eyes. “I cannot say she is well,” Celestia said coldly. “She appeared in the courtyard in a rage, demanding to see her brother. Had she accomplished her goal, I have no doubt the Guard would be without its Captain.”
Cadence’s ears perked in alarm. “Did…did she hurt anypony?”
Celestia shook her head. “She did not. After I met her, I succeeded in diffusing her anger. She broke down, and is currently resting.”
Cadence wilted, relief and guilt flooding her. Both were quickly overwhelmed by fear when Celestia suddenly stood and leapt from the dais. Her wings snapped out, and she landed softly in front of Cadence. Celestia drew herself to her full height and towered over Cadence, leaving her in the shadow of the Sun herself.
“To say I am disappointed would not even begin to describe how I feel right now,” Celestia scowled, pressing forward into Cadence’s personal space. “That you would, that you could commit such treachery upon her after she has given you everything of herself. It disgusts me.” Celestia turned away from Cadence and stomped a short distance, each beat of her hooves leaving cracks in the stonework.
Cadence could find no words to defend herself. Instead, she asked, “C-can I see her?”
Celestia snapped her head around, and for a moment the temperature of the room spiked sharply. Cadence recoiled and drew a hoof up to her chest in fear. For a single moment, the look on Celestia’s face hadn’t been mere anger. It had been wrath.
Cadence trembled as Celestia looked away again. “No.” Her voice was iron, unyielding and absolute. “If she asks for you, you may see her. Until that happens, you are not welcome here.”
Cadence’s jaw dropped, and tears gathered in her eyes. She had been raised in the Palace, and to be banished…it would have been like forbidding Twilight from Ponyville, or from libraries.
Then, in an instant, all her hurt and fear turned to anger.
“How dare you!” Cadence hissed, “What right do you have to keep me from my wife?”
A heartbeat later, Cadence resolved that she should have taken Luna’s advice, as her words had evidently been the wrong thing to say. Celestia’s entire being seemed to waver like a mirage in the desert. Her back shot ramrod straight, and her wings rose up to loom over Cadence’s head. The air turned to a furnace, and Cadence smelled burning hair.
Before she could react Celestia was inches away from her face, wearing an expression of hatred that Cadence had never imagined her Aunt could make.
“I have all the right she has given me!” Celestia thundered, her voice a typhoon battering against Cadence’s eardrums. “How dare you make demands after what you’ve done, all the agony you’ve put her through! All because you were too stupid to see the wonderful mare right in front of you!”
The words stung, but not nearly so much as the hoof that smacked across her face, leaving her terrified and speechless. Celestia stayed to glare at her for another moment before storming out of the throne room and leaving her alone, the wooden doors charring as she passed.
Cadence held a hoof to her cheek. She could already feel the bruise developing there, but that wasn’t what held her attention. Her eyes were wide and unfocused as Celestia’s words repeated themselves in her mind.
‘All because you were too stupid to see the wonderful mare right in front of you!’
“It…it can’t be,” she whispered to herself, her skills as the Princess of Love hard at work deciphering her Aunt’s words. Snippets of memories, little signs that meant nothing on their own, connected in ways she’d never imagined before.
Cadence sucked in a pained, ragged breath when she realized, in fact, it could.
The argument with Cadence fresh in her mind, Celestia allowed her hooves to carry her through the labyrinthine halls of Canterlot Castle. She scolded herself for snapping at Cadence as she had, and even further for striking her. The blow was not severe, certainly not enough to cause serious physical harm, but she was a Princess of Equestria. It was her duty to be above such petty acts of violence, even if in her heart she felt them entirely justified.
Indeed, while intellectually Celestia disagreed with her actions, her heart begged her to turn around and reduce Cadence to cinders. She wondered how much of the impulse was anger, and how much was envy. She vowed not to dwell on it and tried to dismiss the thought, but the execution proved more difficult than she wished.
In seemingly no time at all, Celestia found herself in front of her chamber doors. The door guards, along with most of the Palace staff, were absent, and would be until the next day. She had sent them away for their safety, as clashes between alicorns were to be feared and avoided, but now that the immediate danger had passed she elected not to recall them immediately. It would give Twilight a brief grace period before rumors began circulating, though undoubtedly the earliest phases of the contemptuous process had already begun.
Gently, so as to not wake Twilight if she was still asleep, Celestia cracked open her doors. She pushed them open slowly, careful to avoid the loud creaking sound that annoyed her at the beginning and end of each day.
Inside, she saw Twilight laying on her bed with a book opened across her forelegs. Relieved of the possibility of waking her slumbering former student, Celestia pushed the door the rest of the way open and stepped inside. Twilight caught her entrance from the corner of her eye and looked up from her book.
“Hi, Princess,” she croaked. Celestia winced internally at the sound of Twilight’s voice, which was hoarse from dehydration, shouting, and crying.
With a gentle smile, Celestia filled a glass from her chilled water cooler and levitated it over to her guest. Twilight accepted the water with a grateful smile and emptied it eagerly. Celestia refilled it and climbed up beside her on the bed. Twilight leaned against her side and tried to push the book aside, but before she could Celestia managed to catch a glance.
“A photo album?” she asked, unable to mask her surprise.
Twilight looked down at the open book, the current page showing a collection of photographs of her and Cadence together at her parent’s house, enjoying a summer cookout. Both of them were wearing wide grins. The last picture on the page, taken by Spike if the claw in the upper corner was anything to go by, showed the two of them sitting against one another as they watched the annual Canterlot fireworks display.
Celestia glanced at Twilight and saw her wearing a bittersweet smile. Fresh tears were gathering in her eyes, and she held back a sniffle. Carefully, to not seem as if she was forcing Twilight’s hoof, Celestia reached over and quietly closed the album. Twilight offered no resistance as the images disappeared from view, her only reaction being to press even closer against her.
For what seemed like hours, Twilight was quiet, seemingly lost in her own head. Twilight had not yet had time to truly process everything that had happened to her. She had gone from heartbreak, to rage, and back to heartbreak until she had collapsed from exhaustion. There simply hadn’t been time to sit and think.
“She’s asked to see you,” Celestia said eventually, breaking the silence. She felt Twilight stiffen against her side.
In a tense, careful tone Twilight asked, “What did you tell her?”
For a moment, Celestia felt a pang of hurt at the suspicion in Twilight’s question. She understood the reasoning, of course. Twilight had few ponies left to turn to, and had just been betrayed by the pony closest to her heart. It stung all the same.
“I told her that she had no right to make demands, and that you would see her if and when you chose, not a moment sooner.” Celestia coughed and looked down at her hooves. “Then I…I may have slapped her and stormed off.”
Twilight started and whipped her head around. Her mouth hung open with disbelief, and Celestia’s cheeks reddened at her admission. An entire lifetime of instruction on how to handle conflict, on how physical violence was to be abhorred unless absolutely necessary, and how to control her emotions thrown out the window in a single sentence. It was one of the more shameful and embarrassing confessions of Celestia’s life.
And then, Twilight laughed.
It started as a single chuckle, and quickly rose to a fit of giggles. In seconds Twilight consumed by deep, wild laughter. The seed of a smile took root and blossomed on Celestia’s face as well, and it was not long before both of them were rolling across her bed, holding their aching sides and helpless as they were blinded by mirthful tears. Celestia’s laugh hitched when she tumbled off the bed, having forgotten in the midst of her fit where exactly the massive mattress ended. The inevitable result was an instant redoubling of their tittering as they laughed at their own absurdity: two Equestrian Princesses unable to even lay on a bed properly for their own giggles.
Slowly, as a fire in the night, their laughter subsided. On shaky, unsteady limbs Celestia clawed her way back onto her bed, falling limp beside Twilight. Once again they leaned against each other, though this time more for lack of energy to move than any sense of comfort. As the embers of their laughter cooled, occasionally stoked by a single giggle or chuckle, the heavy cloud of reality returned.
“What will you do now?” Celestia eventually asked, when her curiosity at last overwhelmed her urge to simply bask in the afterglow of their shared laughter.
Twilight stared at her ceiling, contemplating the cards life had dealt her, both the good and the bad.
“I think,” she began at last, with Celestia paying rapt attention, “I think I’d like to go home.”
As the wind rushed through her hair, warring against her mane’s own stubborn current, Celestia struggled to contain the excitement she felt. It would be undignified for the guards pulling her chariot to see their Princess dance in place like a schoolfilly. Still, the closer they grew to Ponyville, the more difficult it became.
Fortunately for Celestia, she had more than a few centuries of experience under her wing when it came to putting on an air of calm. To any observers, she appeared completely serene, though she did allow a small, guilty smile to peak out from behind her mask as she glanced back towards Canterlot.
Following Twilight’s decision to return to Ponyville, Celestia had found it impossible to concentrate. She had tried, she truly had. She’d even continued overseeing the Finance and Interior Ministers’ debate from the previous day, but she had been utterly unable to follow along. Thoughts of Twilight hammered against her skull, clouding her mind and robbing her of awareness. Twilight, sobbing uncontrollably against her, pawing the photo album, begging her to answer why, why her brother and wife had betrayed her.
In the end, after only two days apart, she had dismissed her court early and departed before any could question her. In minutes, she was on her personal chariot headed towards Ponyville. Only a short stop in the city had delayed her.
It had been a necessary stop, in her opinion. The small light pink box nestled securely under her wing did a good job of restraining the tantalizing scent of fresh donuts, but there was no container in all of Equestria capable of totally encapsulating the sugary magic that Pony Joe so skillfully wielded.
As they drew nearer and the vague outline of the village morphed into distinguishable structures, Celestia did her best to convince herself that the fluttering in her stomach was merely the pastries calling to her, and not anything more meaningful.
‘It’s just a simple visit between friends. Nothing more.’
Celestia directed the guards to point themselves in the direction of Ponyville’s newest landmark: the enormous Castle of Harmony that towered above its surroundings. The crystal glittered in the sun, and yet somehow its branches managed to cast a comforting shadow for the tired and weary to find sanctuary from the early summer heat.
With practiced ease, the guards landed with nary a bump nor bounce a short distance from the arboreal palace. With a polite smile and a nod of thanks, Celestia dismissed them to return to Canterlot.
As she approached the large double doors of the castle, Celestia glanced down at herself to ensure her coat was in good condition, and her feathers were properly aligned. After all, it wouldn’t do for a Princess to be about in public looking anything less than her best.
Confident in her appearance, Celestia stopped at the door. She was suddenly overcome with a brief moment of indecision. Should she knock? The castle was technically open to the public, but at the same time it was Twilight’s home. What if she was entertaining? What if she wanted to be left alone? What if—
The door opened, and put a stop to her uncharacteristic mental crisis.
“Princess?”
Celestia nearly jumped at Twilight’s voice. “Twilight,” she managed in a surprisingly well composed voice, “I didn’t think you were expecting me. I was actually hoping to surprise you,” she said with a small hint of disappointment.
Twilight gestured towards the receding outline of her chariot and guards. “Gold chariots and giant purple pennants aren’t exactly subtle,” she said with a giggle.
“Fair enough,” Celestia chuckled. The two Princesses lapsed into an awkward silence, each waiting for the other to speak next. When it became apparent Twilight wouldn’t be the one to break the silence, Celestia raised an eyebrow.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” she asked with titter. “If required, I did think to bring a bribe.” With a flourish of white feathers, Celestia opened her wing to reveal the pink box of confections marked with the stylized ‘PJ’ logo so famous among those who had ever lived in the City of the Sun.
Twilight’s eyes widened, and in an instant Celestia found herself engulfed in an aura of raspberry magic and yanked violently inside. The door slammed shut behind her, sealing them, and more importantly the donuts, inside.
“Okay, turns out alicorns aren’t immune to sugar crash,” Twilight moaned, rubbing her swollen stomach as she lounged on one of the many plush cushions in what served as her living room. Powdered sugar, Bamareian cream, and jelly filling matted her muzzle, hooves, and, somehow, back.
Celestia giggled as she daintily dabbed around her own mouth. The napkin came away as clean as the day it had been woven.
“That may be less due to our lack of advanced resiliency and more to you having eaten several dozen of them in under a minute.” She prodded the now very-empty donut box with a hoof, eying it suspiciously for hidden compartments. “I’m positive there weren’t even that many in the box.”
“Pinkie Pie’s third rule,” Twilight mumbled miserably. At Celestia’s uncomprehending look, Twilight continued, “Never. Question. The donuts.”
“Speaking of Pinkie Pie,” Celestia began delicately, “I assume you’ve seen your friends since your arrival?”
Twilight nodded, careful not to move anything below her neck for fear of upsetting the tenous hold her body held over the baked goods. “I’d hardly been back for five minutes before Pinkie had the whole town gathered for a welcome-back party. That’s not an exaggeration either, I timed it.”
Though she wasn’t familiar with Pinkie Pie on a personal level, based on all she knew of the mare Celestia was somewhat surprised it had taken her even that long.
“Have you spoken to them about…what transpired?”
Twilight stopped rolling about miserably, seeming to sag in place. Her eyes took on a solemn, distant gaze.
“No, I didn’t.”
Aware she was treading on thin ice, Celestia was careful to mind her words as she asked, “May I ask why?”
At first, Twilight didn’t respond. The silence dragged on long enough Celestia feared Twilight was about to spiral into another tearful fit, or worse, shut herself off completely.
“I-I just…I didn’t want to talk about. Not here, not in Ponyville.”
Celestia had an inkling of what Twilight was alluding to, but held her tongue and let the younger Princess speak her mind. “I know it’s silly, but it was like if I don’t talk about, then it’s not real, it's all just some bad dream. Like I can wake up next to Cadence, and have everything be okay.” Tears trailed down her cheeks, mixing with the sugary leftovers and matting her fur.
“But it’s not. It’s not going to be okay. It can’t be okay.” Twilight began to sniffle, and Celestia extended a comforting wing over Twilight, ignoring the sticky feeling on her feathers. It was a position she was finding herself in often as of late. She laid beside Twilight, once again helpless to find the words to comfort the jilted mare despite her eons of experience.
Then, a thought struck her.
“Twilight, did I ever tell you about the sunset?”
Twilight looked up at her in confusion, her silent crying momentarily derailed. “W-what? What about it?”
Celestia, positive she had Twilight’s attention, looked towards the section of crystal masonry that sat between her and where she instinctively knew to be the exact point the sun would set that evening.
“It’s such a simple concept, really. Just the sun moving past the horizon, past where even the highest-flying pegasus can see it. Nothing truly special about it, just a trick of perspective and the nature of light.” Celestia paused and turned back to Twilight, a soft smile on her lips.
“I still remember the first time I saw the sun set. I was only a filly, and Luna was still a newborn foal. It was the first time our parents had ever let me stay up late, or what I considered late at the time. I remember when I realized the sun was going away, I became terrified that it would never return. I chased after it, ran as far and as fast as I could, begging it to come back.”
Celestia’s smile grew distant and nostalgic. “But, of course, I couldn’t keep up. Tiny legs, after all.”
Celestia pantomimed quick, tiny hoofsteps and drew a breathless laugh from Twilight, who was staring at her almost transfixed. Celestia had few memories of her youth, and those she did retain she husbanded closely. As such, Twilight was likely the first to hear the story she was telling in centuries, perhaps millennia.
“After the last ray of light died, I sat in the dirt crying all night. I sobbed, I wailed, I’m sure I even invented a few new words to describe all my dramatics. It all just seemed so…empty, like the world had lost what made life worth living, and I knew I’d never see that beautiful light again. I cried until I didn’t have the energy to move, and I decided to simply lay in the dirt and not get up. For the first time in my life I felt truly, completely hopeless.”
Twilight leaned forward, hanging on her every word. Celestia met her gaze warmly, soaking in the deep violet pools transfixed on her.
“And then, the sun rose. It peaked above the horizon behind me, calling to me, rousing me and reminding me that there was always another day, always something to look forward to if you could just hang on a little bit longer.”
Celestia glanced back towards her own flank, and Twilight followed her eyes. Celestia folded her wing again, revealing the sun symbol so ubiquitous throughout Equestria.
“That was the day I got my Cutie Mark, and it taught me that no matter what, there is always hope in the next sunrise.”
Twilight’s mouth hung open, her eyes swollen as she stared at Celestia in a new light.
Celestia sat quietly, allowing Twilight to process what she had shared. On some level, she was in shock herself at having shared the story. For as long as history could recall, ponies had asked Princess Celestia how she had earned her Cutie Mark, and every inquiry had been met with a polite refusal or a skillful deflection. And yet, here she was, baring her deepest, most intimate experience with Twilight of her own volition.
And then, Twilight was hugging her. It happened so suddenly Celestia couldn't quite pinpoint when it had happened, only that one moment she wasn’t being hugged, and the next she was.
Not only was Twilight hugging her, but something seemed different about this hug. Normally, their embraces would be familiar, close but not lingering. More recently, they had become supportive, Twilight clinging to Celestia like a life preserver in a storm. Something, and she couldn’t put her hoof on what, seemed different with this hug. Whatever it was, she enjoyed it, and returned it enthusiastically.
The two Princesses remained locked together in silence for what seemed like hours, until three sharp knocks echoed throughout the castle. The two broke apart, somewhat hesitantly, as Twilight stood to answer the door. As she watched Twilight leave, and cast a quick cleaning spell over herself in the process, Celestia made a mental note to hire Twilight a small staff for her castle. No Princess should have to act as their own doormare.
After lingering a moment to ensure her mane and coat were suitably sugar-free, Celestia stood and followed after Twilight. Only a short corridor and a set of stairs separated Twilight’s lounge from the foyer, so she quickly caught up.
When she did, she almost wished she hadn’t. Standing in the doorway, opposite a frozen-in-place Twilight, was Princess Cadence.
The Crystal Embassy in Canterlot seemed, to many, superfluous. Imperial dignitaries visiting the Equestrian capitol were hosted in the Palace guest suites, and with Princess Twilight possessing crowns of both Equestria and the Empire, an ambassador was deemed unnecessary.
In the end, the Imperial Residence served little purpose aside from a secure location for storing tax and trade documents for the Empire. As such, it was little more than a three bedroom home in Canterlot’s upper Middle Tier, deep in the city's residential section. The entire upper floor, consisting of two bedrooms, a study, and a restroom, had been renovated into a large vault with a low-grade magic lock. The master bedroom on the ground floor was preserved for the single crystal pony tasked with keeping the files in good order.
With Princess Cadence, a retinue of Crystal Knights that had followed after her from the Empire, and the caretaker/secretary crammed into its tight confines, it was an uncomfortably cramped living situation.
Cadence had locked herself in the master bedroom, and had remained there since Celestia had slapped and dismissed her. It had been made abundantly clear that she was not welcome in the Palace, and none of the hotels in the city reported vacancies. That was not to say that there were no vacancies, as at each hotel the staff had appeared nervous when she requested lodgings. She suspected that Luna had beaten her to them in an attempt to deny her lodging and ensure she would be forced to depart for the Empire. Fortunately, it seemed that the humble Embassy had escaped her notice, as it did that of many ponies.
Alone in the drab bedroom, Cadence was trying to distract herself by once again reading the letter she had received from Spike the day before. Or, more accurately, she was attempting to read it. Her previous attempts had failed, as she had lacked the energy to even process the words on the page. It seemed she was without the will to do more than lay on the cheap mattress, cry, and fall into restless, aching sleep that only served to leave her more exhausted upon waking.
Scraping together what strength she could, Cadence did her best to force her brain into something vaguely resembling functionality. As she read, she had to pause several times to re-read a sentence or even entire paragraphs, but eventually she was able to gather the gist of the letter.
It seemed Spike, still in the Crystal Empire, had no idea why both she and Twilight had suddenly fled the city with no notice. He mentioned that Twilight had only responded to his letters by telling him she would speak with him soon, and to assure him she was fine. Spike was far from satisfied, and had turned to her for answers.
She slowly lowered the letter and stared at a blank section of wall.
What could she tell him? That she’d cheated on her wife, his closest companion and sister/mother figure, with her brother? In their bed? That she’d hurt the kindest, sweetest, most compassionate mare in all the Inhabited Lands? That she’d thrown away her life for…
There it was.
There was the question she had avoided asking herself. She’d done her best to keep the thought from even forming. It had taken Spike’s good intentions to sneak through and throw what she’d done in her face. It struck her like a brick, overcoming her mental walls and reducing the self-delusions she had built to dust.
When had she lost control of her life? Everything had been perfect, until it wasn’t. She’d been walking down the path to happiness, and suddenly found herself lost in a maze of her own lies and deceit without remembering having turned a single corner.
Before she could truly begin to properly process the reality she had avoided for so long, a knock on the door drew her attention. The knights of her personal guard had generally given up on trying to rouse her, and the caretaker likely felt so out of his league that he had yet to approach her, so the knock was a curiosity.
“Your Majesty, I have information regarding Princess Twilight.”
Cadence recognized the voice of Sir Cinnabar, the Lord Captain of her personal retinue. Faster than she had moved in days, her muscles aching from lack of use, Cadence bolted from the bed and threw open the door. Cinnabar, a translucent red crystal pony, masked his surprise at her sudden appearance well.
“Where is she?!” Cadence demanded, one hoof pounding on Cinnabar’s armored chest hard enough to rock him on his hooves.
“I spoke with a friend in the Royal Guard, and he informed me that Princess Twilight has returned to the Castle of Harmony in Ponyville. She is—“
Before Cinnabar could finish his sentence, Cadence shoved him aside and took to the skies. Her wings, still sore from her breakneck rush after Twilight, screamed at her. She ignored their protests, suddenly infused with energy she hadn’t felt since her marriage had been a happy one. This time, gravity was her ally, as the Canterhorn acted as an enormous perch for her diving flight to Ponyville.
In her haste, Cadence didn’t notice the Royal Guard chariot team pass by above her on their way back to the city.
Faster than she had ever made the trip, Cadence reached the small town in the shadow of the mountain. She ripped past thatched roofs, missing them by inches as she barreled through the sky towards her prize.
When the Castle of Harmony loomed above her, she dug her hooves into the earth. The dirt gave way as her momentum carved four deep grooves in the ground, stopping her just short of the castle doors. Ponies on the street stared at her, surprised by the sudden appearance of the Crystal Princess.
Desperate to reach her wife, Cadence scrambled to the door and attempted to force them open, only to find them locked. She briefly considered breaking them down, but quickly tossed the idea aside. Twilight had sculpted the castle’s defensive wards herself, and Cadence was far from equal to the task of overcoming them.
The momentary delay allowed her to regain some sense of control over herself. She was shaking from adrenaline and excitement, but when she knocked on the doors, it was far from the ferocious pounding she would have delivered immediately upon her arrival.
The minute that followed was one of the longest of her life as she waited for the massive slabs of enchanted crystal to open. When they finally began to budge, she nearly squealed.
“Hello there, I—“ Twilight, halfway through opening the doors, froze in place upon seeing who was standing at her door.
Cadence was suddenly overcome with a wave of tense, anxious terror. Her stomach rebelled against her, and her limbs felt heavy as cannonballs and sturdy as twigs.
A tremble in her voice, Cadence offered a hopeful, fearful half-smile.
Cadence’s words hung in the air, stagnating and poisoning the atmosphere as Twilight stood motionless. Her eyes were wide in a light shade of panic, and she appeared to teeter on the precipice between bolting away and slamming the door in Cadence’s face.
Cadence found herself uncomfortable in her own skin, and her heart ached to see Twilight stare at her with fear and anger. A shifting mass of white behind Twilight caught Cadence’s attention, and she noticed Celestia standing atop a set of stairs that led higher into Twilight’s castle. Celestia looked nearly as shocked as Twilight, though there was no fear to be found in the depths of the Sun Queen. Cadence glared at her suspiciously, treacherous thoughts flashing through her mind.
“C-Cadence,” Twilight said in a near whisper, her voice catching.
Cadence nodded uneasily, forcing herself to look away from Celestia. Twilight was breaking out of her shell-shock state, and a parade of emotions shifted over her features in such rapid succession to be nearly indistinguishable. Twilight looked back over her withers, towards Celestia, then back to Cadence. She swallowed and shifted her hooves, then moved to the side of the door.
“Would you…would you like to come in?” she asked, her tone quickly whipped into civility. Cadence hid a wince, and bowed her head gratefully.
As she walked inside the Castle of Harmony, Cadence was strongly reminded of the Crystal Spire. The entire superstructure appeared to be a single flawless slab of crystal, each feature blending into the next, curves flowing into rigid struts and columns seamlessly. Even the stairs and bookcases seemed grown rather than built, a testament to the powerful magic that had born it forth.
It was a beautiful castle, and suited Twilight perfectly, but Cadence could not have cared less if she was standing in a collapsing mud hut in the middle of a burning forest. All her attention was on her wife, who was doing her best to school her features. She was largely successful, but Cadence knew her well enough to pick out fragments, ticks that Twilight could not entirely conceal. There was hurt, nervousness, and of course, anger.
From atop the stairs, Celestia cleared her throat. “I will give you two your privacy.” She looked directly at Twilight, making a point not to as much as glance at Cadence. “If you need me, I shall be in the library.”
Twilight nodded as Celestia turned and left in the direction from whence she had come, leaving the two of them alone in the foyer. They stood awkwardly for several moments before Twilight cleared her throat. “Would you like something to drink?”
Cadence opened her mouth to decline, but before the words could form on her lips she noticed the desperate, dry burning in her throat. Several days of hardly eating or drinking, exacerbated by the exertion of her rapid flight to Ponyville, had left her parched.
“Water, please,” she said with a nod. Twilight turned and led her through the castle’s first floor to an enormous kitchen, nearly as large as the Crystal Spire’s. Cadence hadn’t spent much time in the Castle of Harmony, and was taken by surprise by its grandeur.
“Wow, fancy. This is even nicer than the Canterlot Palace kitchens,” Cadence noted, trying to avoid another awkward silence with idle chitchat. Twilight gave a noncommittal nod as she filled a glass from the cupboard and passed it over. Cadence accepted it gratefully, and nearly emptied it in a single pull.
Her thirst momentarily quenched, Cadence looked up to find Twilight watching her expectantly. She realized that, after having flown a quarter of the way across Equestria and showing up at Twilight’s door unannounced after almost a week of no contact, she should probably say something.
This was it. This was her moment to save her marriage, to pull her own stupid flank out of the fire that she had stoked into a bellowing inferno. What she had done was indefensible, unacceptable, and unforgettable. But maybe, she hoped, it wasn’t unforgivable, if she could find the right words.
“Twilight, I…”
Cadence took a deep breath, and as she stared into Twilight’s beautiful eyes, she remembered every precious moment they had spent together. She remembered the day she arrived at Twilight Manor to foalsit a filly not much younger than she had been. She remembered the confusion she had felt, many years later, when she first realized her feelings for the younger mare who was like a sister to her. She remembered the excitement when she realized Twilight returned her affections, and the fear of asking her on a date. She remembered the bliss of their courtship, of late nights spent giggling together under a blanket in the Royal Library reading cheesy romance novels as cliche as they were poorly written. She remembered the joy when Twilight had pulled a small box previously concealed under her newly-acquired wings, and the deep kiss that followed when she had said yes, yes, yes.
She remembered their honeymoon, and the quiet nights they'd spent on a Bactrian beach, content to say nothing as their feathers and fur intermingled. She remembered the look of love Twilight had given her, heartfelt and sincere as any she had seen, reflecting the light of the stars and painting a portrait of such beauty to make the heavens weep.
She remembered all these things, and when she drew on herself to summon the words and express the boundless love she felt for the mare she had betrayed, none came.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her head falling in defeat.
There was a brief quiet, like the calm before a storm.
“Is that it?” Twilight asked unbelievably. “Is that all you have to say to me after what you did? That you’re sorry?”
Cadence backpedaled as Twilight advanced on her, the fire in her eyes a shade that could only be sparked by betrayal of the one closest to her heart. “Twilight, I—“
“No! You had sex with my brother, in our bed, and all you can think to say to me is that you’re sorry?!”
Cadence stammered wordlessly under the onslaught as she desperately struggled to put two words together in her own defense.
“Why? Just tell me why, Cadence!”
“Because it felt right!” Cadence bellowed, the sudden gale of her voice forcing Twilight back on her hooves.
Twilight and Cadence stared at each other, eyes wide as saucers, each realizing the implications of what she had said. As the meaning of Cadence’s words fell over her, Twilight’s rear legs collapsed, all her fury leaking out of her in an instant.
“I…” Cadence gathered her resolve, deciding that it was too late for her to turn back. Honesty would be her only refuge.
“Twilight,” she began softly, “I love you, I need you to know that. There is nopony else on this world that I treasure more than you.” She paused to ensure that Twilight was listening. Twilight’s disbelieving eyes were a painful confirmation that she was.
“There’s something wrong with me. I don’t know what it is, but it’s like this…this emptiness, right here,” she tapped her chest right above her heart. “It nags at me, all hours of the day, pulling at me every single moment."
Cadence took a deep breath as the instincts she had built to protect her secrets rebelled against her, but she pressed on. Twilight deserved the truth.
"It started right before our wedding, and at first I ignored it. I thought it was just pre-wedding jitters, and when I talked to Aun-to Princess Celestia, she told me the same. But then it just kept getting worse and worse and worse and I just couldn't stand it any more and I—“
Her breathing hitched, and she closed her eyes. “A few days before our wedding, I disguised myself in Canterlot, found a bar, and went home with a stallion,” she confessed, her head hung in shame.
“It made me feel a little better, at first. But then the feeling came back even stronger than before, and then there was the guilt about what I had done to you. I vowed I would never do something like that again, no matter what.” She glanced up for a brief moment, and saw that Twilight had a steady stream of tears sliding down her cheeks. She looked away quickly.
“Over the next few months, it kept getting worse, and I did my best to fight it. I would always come to you when I was struggling the hardest. I know you probably just thought it was part of the ‘honeymoon period,’ but I was trying so hard not to fall into those depths again, to be faithful to you.”
A wet spot appeared on the floor below her, and she realized that she had started crying as well.
“When I couldn’t stand it anymore, I had sex with one the maid's in the Canterlot Palace. I think that’s when the rumors started. Pretty soon after that, it happened again with a merchant here in the Empire. I slept with a couple of Princess Celestia’s guards, and then…and that’s when it started with Shining Armor.”
Cadence heard Twilight suppress a sob, but she didn’t look up. She didn’t feel like she even deserved to see Twilight after what she had done. She deserved a cage, a dingy cell without even a bucket or a musty pile of hay in the corner, but for the moment she owed Twilight the full explanation.
“When I was with Shining Armor, for the first time in so long, that horrible, empty feeling went away. With the others, it had been like putting a band-aid on a broken leg, but with him it was...it was different. I felt—” she very nearly said 'whole,' but even in her addled state Cadence realized what a poor choice of words that would have been, "I felt like myself again."
“H-his trips to ‘oversee the Imperial Guard’s retraining?’” Twilight accused, her voice thick with contempt. Cadence nodded, and when she heard hooves on crystal, she looked up to see Twilight standing and wiping her eyes.
“Twilight, I don’t know what is wrong with me, but I know one thing: I love you. You have to believe that, there is nopony else in the world I care for more than you.”
“Except my brother,” Twilight mumbled sadly, and Cadence recoiled as if struck.
“Please, Twilight," Cadence begged miserably, "I don't want to lose you. We can fix this together, but I need your help, and I'll do anything, just please, please give me a chance."
For a long, agonizing moment, it was quiet as Cadence silently pleaded for a miracle. Her special talent was helping bring ponies in love together, and yet she was reduced to a supplicant before the mare whose love mattered more to her than anything. All her skills, all her abilities, her intuitive knowledge on applying just the right pressure at just the right time to open one heart to another were to her in that moment a bag of sand in the desert. It left Cadence to watch, wait, and torment herself as Twilight sat away from her in silent judgement, face obscured from view.
“No,” Twilight whispered, and Cadence felt her soul crack. With a resolute shake of her head, Twilight set herself firmly on her hooves and repeated herself.
“No more, Cadence. If you want to be with my brother, that’s fine. But I will have no part of it.”
As Cadence watched, a dagger of ice-cold despair plunged into her heart, Twilight reached up and parted her mane, revealing the thin silver band around the base of her horn.
“Please, Twilight, wait just please don't—“
Twilight interrupted Cadence's pleading by deftly lifting the ring from around her horn. There was a brief flash of raspberry magic and a golden crown appeared beside her, a near copy of Cadence's own, the only noticeable difference being a pink starburst in place of a purple diamond.
“I, Princess Twilight Sparkle, hereby renounce my Imperial Crown, and dissolve our Union.”
Twilight carefully deposited the two objects at Cadence’s hooves, leaving Cadence to stare open-mouthed in horror. Twilight turned away as fresh tears began to fall from her eyes, and Cadence stood in mute anguish, her gaze torn between the jewelry and Twilight.
“I’d like you to leave now,” Twilight said without looking, her voice thick.
Cadence debated staying and trying to force the issue, to beg and plead for Twilight to forgive her, but, looking at Twilight and the regalia she had discarded, Cadence realized it was over. There was no hope for her, and there never had been.
Her vision clouded by tears, Cadence gathered the ring and crown in her magic and bolted out of the castle. The moment she met sunlight, her wings snapped out and launched her away from Ponyville, away from Twilight, away from everything.
She stopped on a hilltop just out of sight of Ponyville. Her legs failed her, unable to bear the slightest weight, and she collapsed to the ground clutching the silver ring tight against her chest. Her sobs echoed loudly across the land as she curled in on herself, and for hundreds of years afterwards local villagers would tell their children the story of the night the hills cried.
Before Nightmare Moon’s return to Equestria, Ponyville was a tiny, insignificant speck on the map of Equestria, renowned for nothing more than being the final stop on the Royal Equestrian Railways line leading to Canterlot. Even hosting the Summer Sun Ceremony had done little to help their notoriety, as nearly every settlement in Equestria had done so before them, often more than once.
To the surprise of all, little more than a decade later, Ponyville was among only two cities in Equestria that could claim a Princess as one of their own. True, while Princess Twilight had been born and raised in Canterlot, it was Ponyville she called her hometown, and it was Ponyville that hosted the Castle of Harmony. And with their Princess having announced that she would not be returning to the Crystal Empire, and would be staying, Ponyville was celebrating wildly.
Every lamp post from Sweet Apple Acres to Whitetail Woods proudly held a flapping purple banner, each embroidered with Twilight’s starburst Cutie Mark. Fillies and colts ran underhoof, many of them wearing fake horns or wings, and sometimes both. Grown mares and stallions paraded past Twilight, seated at one of Sugarcube Corner’s booths surrounded by her friends, each eager to welcome her home themselves. There was no doubting Twilight was a celebrity in the small village, and quite loved besides.
And yet, as Princess Celestia watched the festivities, she could not help but note all the differences between the Ponyville party and those she was familiar with. True, she had had many such celebrations held in her honor for a variety of occasions, but there was something much more personal about what she was witnessing. It seemed much more sincere than what she was used to: each pony that passed Twilight would offer her kind words and their brightest smile, a nicety to be expected at any garden party or cotillion, but the Ponyville styling was of sincere affection in place of societal platitudes. The ponies greeted Twilight not out of desire to be seen around her, or to become closer to a Princess for their own ends, but out of simple desire to welcome a friend.
It was refreshing to witness, and quite honestly a little strange. Still, it was wonderful to see Twilight unwind after her long ordeal. To see her laughing, smiling, and seeming so carefree after Cadence’s betrayal brought a smile to Celestia’s face.
“She seems to be having a wonderful time, doesn’t she?”
Had Celestia been almost anypony else, she would have jumped from the suddenness with which Rarity had seemed to appear beside her. She hadn’t even noticed Rarity get up from Twilight’s table, much less make her way across the crowded room. Without quite looking away from Twilight, she glanced at the shorter mare from the corner of her eye and nodded, donning the motherly smile so familiar across Equestria.
“Yes, she does, and I’m thankful for it. She certainly deserves it after all she’s been through.” As Celestia spoke, Twilight accidentally grabbed a cupcake Pinkie Pie had prepared for herself. A jet of fire erupted from Twilight’s mouth a heartbeat later, only to be quickly snuffed out by Rainbow Dash dousing her with lemonade and soaking her mane.
Rarity and Celestia both covered their mouths with their hooves to hide their giggles, the rest of the party-goers being somewhat less subtle, as Twilight flushed from the good-natured laughter. She glared playfully, or at least mostly playfully, at Rainbow Dash before emptying an entire pitcher of fruit punch over her head. Twilight stuck out her tongue at her friend, and Celestia couldn’t help but admire how adorable she looked.
“You know, while I do feel terrible about what happened between Twilight and Cadence, I can’t help but feel a bit happy with how it turned out,” Rarity said lightly, not looking at anything in particular. Celestia’s suspicions began to rise, and she allowed her maternal smile to fall away.
“How do you mean?” Celestia asked.
“Oh, well, I just meant it will be nice to have her back,” Rarity replied innocently. “After all, aside from her occasional visits to Ponyville and ours to the Empire, it’s been years since I was able to spend any real time with Twilight. While I can’t say I’m happy with how it came about, this will certainly be quite the opportunity to become…reacquainted with her.”
Celestia’s breath caught in her chest, and her eyes narrowed as she turned her full attention to the unicorn at her side.
“I don’t play games when it comes to Twilight, Rarity,” she whispered icily. Celestia expected Rarity to wither under her gaze, but to her credit the (much)younger mare stood her ground remarkably well.
“Oh, I assure you Your Highness, I take matters such as these quite seriously when they concern those I hold dear, Twilight being one such pony,” Rarity returned, her voice equally frigid. The two mares stared each other down until both were prompted to simultaneously break eye contact and offer polite smiles to a passing mare to avoid raising attention to themselves. Both knew that nothing could draw a crowd’s attention quite like an argument involving a Princess.
Once the mare passed, Rarity continued, “I may not have your breadth of experience, Your Highness, but rest assured the way you look at her has not escaped my notice.”
Celestia recoiled as if struck. After a moment of what could almost be called a glare, Rarity’s eyes softened. “I am sure you would never intentionally do anything to harm her, Princess, but love makes fools of us all. I merely wish to know—and I do realize how this makes me sound—what your intentions are with her.”
It was with newfound respect for Rarity that Celestia stopped to consider her words. Not many ponies would be willing to pit themselves against her for their friend, and it was heartening to be reminded that Twilight was in such good company.
“I have lived a long life, Rarity,” Celestia began once she was sure of how she wished to phrase her response. “I have seen nations rise to glory and fall to dust in what now seems like the blink of an eye. I have met, befriended, fought, loved, hated, and lost more ponies than I could recount to you in a hundred years. I have seen the greatest feats of bravery, and the most pathetic acts of cowardice. I, perhaps more than any being that has ever lived, can truly say that I have seen as much of ponykind as it has to offer.”
With eyes half-lidded from the fatigue of memories, yet buoyed by what she held in her heart, Celestia turned back towards Twilight, who at that moment was heavily engaged alongside Pinkie Pie against Rainbow Dash and Applejack in a vicious food fight. Cupcakes, muffins, apple fritters, éclairs, and every other type of baked good filled the air between them, covering any foolhardy enough to venture close with a thick coat of weaponized sugar.
“And in that time, I can honestly say I have never met a better pony than Twilight Sparkle.” As Pinkie Pie somehow managed to devour an entire two-layer cake hurled at her by Applejack, Celestia looked at Rarity.
“To answer your question, Rarity, I shall be whatever Twilight wants me to be. Whether that is a friend, a lover, or even nothing at all, I will honor her wishes. She deserves nothing less.”
Rarity smiled and held a hoof over her chest. “My, that is quite possibly the most beautiful confession I have ever heard. Although,” she began, quickly cutting her eyes back towards Twilight’s table. Celestia allowed herself a quick peek as well, and caught Twilight staring at them both while confections flew past her head. Twilight flushed and waved before a cinnamon roll caught her in the ear and redirected her back to the battle.
With a knowing grin, Rarity continued, “I would certainly never put money on ‘nothing at all.’”
The train ride back to the Crystal Empire was a long, awkward affair. Cadence spent nearly the entire journey in a corner of the railcar that had been set aside for her, staring out the window with unseeing eyes. Around her, the Crystal Knights, all of them at least somewhat disgruntled after having been left behind yet again by the Princess they were charged to escort, did their best to maintain a healthy distance in the somewhat cramped quarters. Any and all conversation that arose was quickly squashed with a scathing glance from Cinnabar.
Cadence hardly noticed them. She leaned against the window, her eyes unfocused as the green of the countryside passed by in a blur. She wasn’t lost in thought, nor did she daydream. She merely existed, all her strength to think or feel or move stripped from her. Her eyes were only open because they weren’t closed, she sat only because she wasn’t standing. Almost certainly, had Cinnabar not come after her, Cadence would still have been on the hilltop she had landed on after fleeing Ponyville.
Regardless of whether the Crystal Princess took notice or not, time did continue to pass, and eventually Cadence was roused from her stupor by a gentle hoof on her withers. From habit if nothing else, Cadence turned her head and saw it was Sir Cinnabar, concern etched into the hard-worn lines of his face.
“Your Majesty, we’ve arrived,” he whispered, quietly enough for only her ears. She blinked at him, suddenly noticing the burning dryness of her eyes, and she glanced around the car. The other Knights were all watching her, each making an attempt at polite disinterest.
Cadence looked back at Cinnabar mutely. The silence dragged on for an uncomfortably long moment, Cinnabar unwilling to speak before his liege and Cadence completely unable, before Cinnabar retracted his hoof and came to attention. “If you would like to head to the Spire, we would escort you, Princess.”
Despite the dense fog of lethargy encapsulating her, Cadence recognized the support Cinnabar was offering, and dipped her head to confirm his suggestion. She stood, her muscles sore and aching from her long bout of inactivity and the furious exertion that was her rush to Ponyville. The simple act of moving forced her mind into something at least vaguely reminiscent of functionality that served well enough to direct her steps.
The train station was nearly empty, the rest of the train’s passenger having long since disembarked and those returning to Equestria having already boarded. Ponies pressed against windows in the passenger cars to watch as Cadence and her retinue passed them on their way to the city, all of them eager to see a Princess in the flesh, even if separated by a panel of glass.
The steady clip-clip of hooves ate the road to the Capitol quickly, until the empty fields surrounding the city gave way to monolithic crystal buildings. The streets were filled with the midday crowds, the majority of which was made up of Crystal Ponies, with the odd Equestrian or even Griffon here and there. Regardless of species, they all parted to allow the party through.
While it would be a gross fabrication to say that Cadence was even remotely alert, she had walked the streets of her city often enough to recognize anything out of the ordinary regarding her ponies. Normally, when she took a stroll through the Capital, the ponies would be all smiles and pleasant greetings. While they would normally maintain a respectful distance, with the exception of the occasional overly-enthusiastic foal, most ponies would make a point of offering a kind wave at the very least.
But, as the group passed through the emerging corridor of the crowd, nopony smiled. Nopony waved. Conversation, normally free-flowing and enthusiastic, was hushed. The ponies whispered among themselves, too quietly for Cadence to overhear, casting furtive glances her way and quickly looking away if she tried to meet them.
The knights, unsettled by the unusual behavior of the crowd, tightened ranks around her. They were stallions, and more importantly soldiers, of a different time. The word ‘assassination’ hung heavily in their vocabulary, not as a distant concept banished to the annals of history, but as a shadowy presence well within living memory. It was not only a lasting legacy of Sombra, but the inevitable result of ponies a thousand years out of their own time. Even with years to adjust, many were still adapting to the new, more peaceful place the world had become in their long absence.
With the stallions surrounding her on every side, their crystal armor clinking as they moved in step, it made it even more difficult for Cadence to make sense of the ponies’ odd behavior. It was petty happenstance that, at just the most inopportune moment, an errant breeze passed by, carrying with it a potent sampling of their words.
“Whore.”
Cadence stumbled.
Word, it seemed, had beaten her to the Empire. The knights, noticing her distress, stopped and formed a wall between her and the crowd. Without the inherent noise of walking, and knowing now what to listen for, the quiet, faint chattering morphed into sharp, cutting condemnations.
“Whore.”
“Cheater.”
“Liar.”
“Harlot.”
Cadence turned round and round, finally taking notice of the hostility that surrounded her. Gone were the familiar smiles and happy eyes, and in their place were sneers and derision. It was a bitterly unfamiliar feeling, seeing the ponies she always sought to do justice by turning on her so. The great, omnipresent weight she had carried for weeks suddenly pressed down on her with renewed vigor, and she very nearly collapsed in the street.
“Princess, I believe it would be best if we continued on our way,” Sir Cinnabar whispered to her urgently after noticing her distress, not taking his eyes away from the crowd. He was a clever stallion, and it was no mystery to him what had suddenly afflicted her. Cadence offered no resistance when, after a brief moment of her indecision, he began to lightly coax her forward. She nearly tripped on her hooves, but managed to remain upright as the shield of stallions around her escorted her towards the Crystal Spire at a quick but controlled pace.
In her shock and her guards’ haste, Cadence failed to notice that not all the faces were entirely hostile. While there was no approval to be found, the great majority of ponies wore expressions of pity, or sympathy, or even mere sadness. Cadence had seen only the flecks of harsh gold in the stone, the scattered judgmental glowers blending together into a solid, damning mosaic.
The group reached the Spire with merciful swiftness, and Cadence was soon safely ensconced in her glass tower. She sat panting on the floor of the Spire’s foyer, her chest gripped with she could only think of as a panic attack. She performed the breathing exercises Celestia had taught her repeatedly until her body returned to her control, and refused Cinnabar’s pleas for her to allow the Imperial physicians to examine her.
Instead, she dismissed him and the rest of the knights and left to return to her room. On the way, she passed dozens of staff, attendants, and guards, and left hushed gossiping in her wake. She felt as if she were a fugitive fleeing justice as she rushed through the halls of her own home, avoiding eye contact and skulking through lesser-used passageways.
It was a relief when she finally reached the door to her chambers, which was swiftly cut down by the realization that a pair of Crystal Knights still stood vigil on either side.
“Sir Pyrite, Sir Rigid,” she acknowledged with what could not even be charitably called a smile and a nod of her head.
“Majesty,” they intoned together, their voices flat and professional.
Cadence hid a wince: though they had always been quite formal, both knights had near always shown, in their own way, the affection they felt towards her and Twilight. As members of their personal guards, much more often Twilight’s than her own, she realized belatedly, she and Twilight had come to know them as well as any of their guards. They had always maintained their professionalism, but it had been as casual as the relationship between guard and charge could be. Pyrite, the more talkative of the two, was always quick to offer them warm greetings or pleasant conversation whenever he was present. His near-constant companion, Sir Rigid, despite rarely speaking, could also communicate a tome’s worth of meaning in a single glance and often kept she and Twilight in silent stitches when he was present for the more ridiculous petitioners that occasioned their court.
Now, gone was the familiarity she had grown accustomed to, and its place was cold formality. It hurt to lose yet another source of comforting and friendship. Her wife had left her, her aunts were furious with her, one of them having all but banished her from Equestria proper, and her staff was no doubt mocking her the moment she was out of earshot.
She was an iceberg adrift in a hostile ocean, and the knowledge that she had been the one to hack herself free hurt all the more.
Sir Pyrite and Sir Rigid, disciplined soldiers that they were, opened the double doors for her with perfect precision. They kept their eyes forward respectfully as she passed, and she lowered her head in shame to avoid seeing their faces, no doubt locked into the stern, unyielding half-scowl pony soldiers were renowned for the world over.
When the doors closed behind her, she took a moment to look around her bedroom. The cleaning staff had done their duty despite her absence. The bed had been remade, and the curtains, ruined during Twilight’s violent teleportation, had been replaced, as had the sheets and comforter. The condom that had been her ultimate undoing had been discarded, and she wasted no thought on what its fate had been. Near the balcony window, the floor was uneven and warped where the spell’s energy had superheated the crystal into a boiling puddle, evidently beyond what the Imperial crystalsmiths could repair.
Cadence looked away and kicked her hoofboots free haphazardly. She likewise tossed her torque and crown in the general direction of her vanity table, and crawled onto her bed. It truly was her bed now, she realized. There would be no Twilight waiting for her after a long day of performing her royal duties, no reason to leave a spot beside her for her wife to crawl into when she finally managed to pry herself away from her late night reading. As she looked over the huge bedspread, it suddenly seemed desolate rather than spacious.
She drew the canopy closed, determined to sleep and escape her troubles as long as she could, and settled herself beneath the covers. The bed curtain blocked out a fair portion of the light streaming in through the windows, allowing only a dim portion of the sun’s rays through. The thick walls and insulated glass sequestered her from the hustle and bustle of the city’s activity, allowing her bed to act as a quiet oasis of peace.
Cadence tossed and turned at first, unable to find a comfortable position. She was unused to sleeping alone: she and Twilight had hardly spent a night apart since their wedding, and never for more than a single night at a time. She had grown used to cuddling and falling asleep with the scent of lavender and parchment in her nose. The freshly laundered sheets smelled unfamiliar and wrong, the expensive detergent a poor substitute.
Frustrated, Cadence eventually pulled a large, rarely used body pillow from the closet and brought it to her chest. As she wedged it in beside her, a streak of dark purple on the light violet sheets caught her eye and froze her in place.
The maids had not been as thorough as she had thought: a purple feather, apparently trapped between the pillows, had escaped their notice. Cadence picked it up carefully, as though expecting it to dissolve at her touch. When it remained solid, she rolled it between her hooves, watching the delicate patterns in the vane shift in the light. A thought occurred to her, and she sniffed the discarded plumage.
Cadence smiled sadly. Though faint, the smell of Twilight was unmistakable. She used her magic to cut a small slit in the pillowcase and slid the hollow shaft inside securely. Satisfied, she curled into her nest of sheets and clutched the pillow tightly to her chest. If she tried hard enough, she could imagine that it was Twilight against her. She could pretend she hadn’t lost the love of her life, ruined her marriage, and turned her entire nation against her.
For a moment, at least.
With sleep sinking its sharp talons into her for the first time in what seemed like a lifetime, Cadence didn’t notice that she had already soaked the pillow with tears.
Far below, at the base of the Spire, the Crystal Heart hovered in place, suspended midair between the Spire's supporting legs. The Crystal Heart, a conduit for the inherit magic in all the citizens of the Crystal Empire, was absolutely humming with energy. The excitement of a royal scandal, even if all the exact details were not yet known, was a rare thing. Rumors flew, carrying news of varying believability and severity. There was talk of everything from Princess Twilight having renounced her Imperial Crown to Princess Cadence and the entire Imperial Guard having been replaced by Changelings.
As Princess Cadence cried herself to sleep in solitude, and her ponies eagerly gossiped back and forth, the Crystal Heart began a low, nearly inaudible whine. It shivered in place, unnoticed in the midst of the buzzing commotion.
Distracted as they were, nopony noticed when a thin, hairline fracture appeared in the center of the perfectly cut face of the Crystal Heart.
