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// Home 
// Story: My Little Princesses 
// by Sixpence 
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	You live alone in a two story house on the edge of a large expansive forest. The property is large enough that you need a car to get to it from the road. It has been in your family for generations, but an accident has left you as the only living heir.

Your family was wealthy, and owners of a large sports and outdoor living chain of stores. After the plane crash you inherited everything, but the memories weighed too heavily on you to continue working to keep the stores running. So you sold yourself out, gaining enough money to be able to live comfortably for the rest of your life should you wish to do so.

The house is warming up slowly as the fireplace crackles merrily in contrast to the rain beating against the windows. You have placed the small fillies on the couch right by it on a thick woolen blanket. The small blue filly is nervously looking at the unconscious form of her sister.
You gather your supplies, and after quickly drying yourself off and getting into something dry you head downstairs with a bundle of thick bath towels. With care you unfold the white filly from your muddy sweater, wincing at the blood seeping out through the makeshift bandage. The blue filly has collapsed in a heap beside her, her eyes barely staying open.

With care you wrap the small blue filly in the thick towel, gently drying her off and placing her on the rug in front of the fire, you can hear her breath coming in a slow steady rhythm as sleep finally wins over her worry.

You place the muddy white alicorn filly on a towel you’ve spread out over the couch, gently inspecting her body in the light of your reading lamp. You’re no vet, but almost living in the forest for the last few years have taught you much about treating wounds and cuts. Having a family heavily invested in outdoor life also helps.

The small medical box contains everything you’d need for basic first aid, and you gently clean the jagged wound on the leg. Luckily the filly is still out cold, but the pain still makes her leg twitch. The cut is deeper than you first thought, and a small piece of wood is lodged in it. The wood is smooth, but brittle, and you barely manage to pull the sliver out without splintering it more. Once it’s out, the bleeding picks up a bit, which is good. The blood will wash out any remaining dirt inside, and the slow steady stream tells you that no arteries have been nicked.

You rub some mild local anaesthesia over the wound while dabbing up the blood. It’s slowly stopping, but the wound has to be closed. With steady hands you close the wound, noting with satisfaction that the blood has finally stopped running and you tie off the thin surgical string with a neat little knot.

Feeling content with your work you take a deep breath before taking a seat in your favourite chair by the fire. Your breath catch in your throat as things catch up with you.

The fillies have wings, and horns. The thought sends your mind reeling, and you clutch the armrests of your chair as you stare at the two small horses, or rather alicorns, now occupying the living room of your house.

One is midnight blue, with a lighter blue mane. You can’t help but be reminded of a certain night princess. No, nonsense. There is no way these can be.

The other, slightly larger filly is pure white, and her mane is a light pink, similar to the color of the sky during sunset. You’ve only seen these colors in fanart of a younger version of the current ruler in a land of ponies.

Nonsense. You’re absolutely sure that there has to be some coincidence. After all, alicorn fillies lying in the forest in the middle of the night is a perfectly normal occurrence...

No. There is no way that filly Luna and Celestia is currently in your living room. No way that you’ve just sewn shut a wound in the leg of a pony princess from a cartoon your sister had forced you to look at, and secretly enjoyed. You feel a pang of sadness at the thought of your sister, but you shake your head and return to the sight before you.

A low rumble from your belly breaks you out of your train of thought, and you remember that you haven’t eaten since... quite a few hours ago, and night is falling. You make your way into the kitchen and start making yourself some sandwiches, trying to keep as silent as possible to not disturb the two fillies.

The light clip-clop of hooves on the marble tiled floor of the kitchen makes you realise that you’ve been standing over two slices of bread for the last fifteen minutes, just staring emptily at them without actually putting anything together. You look down, only to see the small blue filly nudge against your leg, still wrapped in her towel. She looks up at you pleadingly, and you hear a small growl emanating from the filly’s belly.

You smile softly and grab a still fresh green apple from the bowl on the counter. You remove the core and cut it in two, before placing it on a plate before the small filly. She devours the apple with gusto, and looks up at you with a small smile before nuzzling your leg. After a few more apples, and a banana the filly’s hunger is sated, and she lie down on the floor by your leg.

With the sandwiches finally done and in hand, you reach down and pick up the softly snoring filly, careful not to wake her yet again. She weighs next to nothing, and you can’t help but smile at the adorable sight on your arm. You slowly walk back into the living room and sit back down.

The plate goes on a small table by your side as you lean back in your chair with the adorable filly on your chest. The fire is crackling merrily, and the room is nice and toasty, and the last chill leaves your body as you gently pet the pony's mane, picking out small twigs and trying to make sure she’s properly dry.

Exhaustion sets in and you fall asleep, the sandwich completely forgotten on the plate beside you as your eyes slowly close, your hand on the small filly’s back.