A Universe Between Us

by MarvelandPonder


A Universe Between Us

Sunset held back a swear. After nicking the ball, her pool cue skewered the air above, wobbling all the way. She was way off, too, which made no sense because her form was perfect: tongue out, one eye shut. She had all the techniques. She winced, looking up. “Do I lose a turn?”

“Not in my house you don’t.” Nightlight chalked his cue again. For about the third time since he sunk a ball. In much the way he’d pressed his dress shirt to the point that it looked like he’d constructed his collar out of cardboard. All the while, a smirk unfurled on his face. “Unless, of course, you’re a pool shark and this is all an elaborate ruse. You’re not hustling me, are you, Sunset?”

“I wish.” She lumbered back from the table, not quite knowing how or where to hold the bottom-heavy stick she’d been given. “Not that I’d cheat, just. That I had the skills to.”
Nightlight slimmed down his eyes. “Just what a true hustler would say.”

For a man whose pool-shooting stance involved sticking out his rear, Sunset surprisingly laughed with him way more than she laughed at him. Somehow fumblingly so, though. Like he was passing her wonky throws on the football field and it was her duty to make sure they landed.

“Were you any better at billiards back home? With the—” He searched for words. Something told Sunset this was the remains of a stutter after years and years of speech therapy (that something being her memory of Twilight telling her). He gestured to grease the wheels a bit. “Levitation, and all that?”

“Wouldn’t know.” Sunset tittered, shrugging. “Never played a game in my life. I’ve only ever seen it being played.”

Great Scott!” Sunset briefly wondered if she was supposed to know who Scott was. She had the sense she needed to add something to her read or watch list. “You don’t know how to play? You never said! I could show you a few pointers.” He poked the top of his pool cue.

Sunset wasn’t sure why she was laughing so much. Maybe it had to do with her girlfriend watching from the door? “Really? Thanks. I could definitely use the help.”

Apart from Nightlight’s tips, if Sunset didn’t concentrate, she could hear Twilight’s mom repeating “Socute” over and over to Twilight. Sunset’s cheeks steamed up. She could also very clearly hear Twilight muttering, “I didn’t think they’d be so close. I thought she’d relate more to you.”

In the same second Sunset nodded, readjusting her position, asking, “Like this?” Twilight Velvet leaned toward her daughter. “So cute.”

Sunset decided to ignore that, just so her cheeks wouldn’t burn off.

“… and it might take a while to get the hang of holding it, but if you slide your cue like so,” he paused, enough for Sunset to repeat the motion with her own pool cue, “There, you got it! Line her up and take a shot.”

If he’d told her to take the winning penalty shot at the World Series, she wouldn’t feel more on display. Truly. The number of eyes didn’t matter so much as whose eyes were on her. Something in the air stiffened her movements, petrified her in the mummifying sense, even though she very clearly wanted to relax.

So clearly, Nightlight tapped her poised shoulder. “Relax your stance. This isn’t golf, which is really my game if I had one—” Lies, Sunset thought, reflexively. She’d played mini-golf with Twilight and her family once. His putter ended up in the big gorilla’s eye. “—but if there’s one thing I’ve learned from golf, it’s that victory belongs to the calm.” He smiled. “You can breathe, you know.”

Sunset grinned back as best she could, let out a windy sigh and pulled the metaphorical trigger. Her cue smacked the ball and the ball shattered a cluster of stripes and solids, sending a striped into the side pocket.

Sunset exploded upwards, looking back to him. “I did it!”

“You did, indeed!” He patted her shoulder. “You sunk one of mine, but still, very impressive, Sun!”

A blush bloomed on her cheeks. “Oh. Well, thanks, Mr. Light. I appreciate it. You didn’t have to, but, uh, you know… thanks.”

Coming over, Twilight put a steadying hand on Sunset’s back. Had she been floundering that much?

“Ah, it’s no trouble for you,” he said, smiling and winking. He went to take the white ball out of pocket and set up another shot. Staring down the length of his cue, he said, “One of these days we’ve gotta invite your folks for dinner. I’m shocked we haven’t met them by now.”

Sunset gripped her cue. Twilight perched an eyebrow up. “Um, Dad? Alternate dimension?”

“Oh, right, right, right.” He jabbed the cue through his fingers. “You wouldn’t think that’d be a detail so easy to forget.”

Sunset gave a shrug. “In your defence, I don’t think they’d be all that open to a get-to-know-you dinner even if we were on same planet. We’ve been in different universes since before I left Equestria.” Before anyone could apologize or tell her what a poor thing she was, Sunset smiled. “Not like I need them now, anyway, so it’s fine.”

Nightlight nodded. “Good for you.” Yeah, she thought. A warmth filled out her whole chest, just hearing that. He gets it.

Twilight rubbed her back, and Sunset gripped the cue harder, smiling in her direction only to see her biting her lip. Eyes dancing on her, before smiling back. “Well, at least you have Princess Celestia, right?”

“Right.” She let loose the laziest grin she could muster. “Who needs a couple of ponies I haven’t seen in years when I’ve got an immortal princess on my side?”

Again with the lip biting. Sunset knew her girlfriend had a nasty little habit of worrying about her when she didn’t have any good reason to. And when she did, but that was completely beside the point now. Sunset made a point of chuckling as she took up Twilight’s hand. Although that wasn’t hard when she got an idea for how to switch off that giant red Worry switch. “Speaking of, I don’t believe you two have met. We should do that.”

“Oh!” That blush was every bit as glorious as Sunset had imagined it would be. “Sunset, I would love to, but do you, um… this isn’t because—” Bit her lip. Twilight cleared her throat. “There’s nothing I’d love more, if you think we’re both ready.”

Anxious sweetheart. Sunset squeezed her girlfriend’s hand. “You don’t have anything to worry about.”

“Atta girl,” Nightlight said, grinning. He looked at Twilight. Sunset had to remind herself he wasn’t talking to her.


As soon as Sunset stepped off the train, she had to whip her head back. “Whoa!” Sunset caught her girlfriend in her magic to the point that it looked like they were performing an  especially impromptu dip. She grinned. “You’re overthinking it again, aren’t you?”

“I wouldn’t call it over-thinking. I’m in a new body with a completely different centre of gravity, I have every right to think about it. The mechanics of transforming my gait from bipedal to quadrupedal are fascinating!” As she came up out of the dip with Sunset’s help, she fumbled a hoof up to adjust her glasses. “Of course, the theory is hard to put into practice.”

“Yeah, it is.” Sunset slung a hoof over Twilight. “I know how you feel. Calling it a head-rush isn’t even the half of it, literally. But in your case, just think of it like crawling and don’t get hung up on where your hooves should be.”

Twilight’s eyes wandered away and came back with awe. “Or the amazing acropolis you used to live in and its pretty pony populace?”

“Yeah, that, too, just until you get over the thrill of walking.” Sunset nodded. “At least you’re getting a hang of the alliteration. That’s big over here. You’ll blend right in.”


“Sunset, I can’t do this.”

Lowering her hoof from the door, Sunset turned to her. “You can’t what?”

“I’m sorry,” Twilight rushed out, stepping back into the shadow of the pillars between the windows. “I know I said I could but did you ever notice Princess Celestia is a princess? I’ve never met royalty before. Or anyone who could move the sun in the sky just by thinking about it.”

Breathing it out, Sunset softened. “I guess that would be kind of intimidating. I never thought about it like that.”

“Never? From what I can tell, she rules over you almost single-hoofedly and raises a fiery ball of gas from millions of miles away. How is she not every little filly’s personal bogeyman?” When she worked her way through the word filly, Twilight’s eyes bulged as if that was the weirdest part of that sentence. It only hooked her breath, and sent her back another step into the shadow. Sunset’s heart dipped.

“She’s not like that, or at least doesn’t come across that way.” Sunset stepped toward her with all the gentleness she did the homeless cat in the alley behind their apartment. “When I was a filly, I wasn’t scared.”

“Thank you?” Twilight drew the shades partway down over her eyes. “It makes me feel so much better that you were braver as a little girl than I am now?”

Sunset pointed. “Not what I meant.” Her smirk rose again. “I don’t honestly remember all that much, I was five, but what I do remember is that she took me in that night and gave me my own room in the castle, on the very first day. None of the other students had a room. That made me feel pretty special. She’s got a way of doing that to ponies. She might be the most powerful pony in the room, but she’ll listen like you are, and nothing makes you feel heard more than that.”

Twilight perked up an eyebrow. “Hold on. Your parents let you live in the castle when you were five? Away from them?”

“Yep.” Sunset’s eyelids flew at half-mast. “Barely saw them after that, too. Must be because they were busy receiving their Parent of the Year awards.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, Sunset.” Twilight finally came closer, and it was to put a hoof on Sunset’s chest. “I didn’t mean to open old wounds.”

“You didn’t. I don’t care.” Sunset shrugged. “I’ve got all the family I need right in that room and she’s even got decent tea.” She put out a hoof hoping Twilight would still recognize the gesture. “You want to come have some? It might calm your nerves.”

She almost took her hoof, but her ears lowered. Sunset never thought that was a particularly cute thing to do, but now that Twilight did it, she’d never see it the same way again. “Do you honestly think I can handle this? I feel like I’m going to implode.”

“If I can make friends with your dad after scaring the crap out him by driving a motorcycle to pick you up on our first date, yes. You can. You’re, like, the ideal girl I could ever possibly bring home.”


If they’d held this meeting in the throne room, Sunset was pretty sure Twilight would’ve had a heart attack on the spot. Even now in the Princess’s private, book-filled study, Twilight quivered in on stumbling hooves beside her. Sunset grimaced. The first time Twilight brought Sunset home as her girlfriend, Twilight held her hand every time she looked like she needed it.

Sunset brushed against Twilight, enough for Twilight to feel her warmth and enough for Sunset to feel how thoroughly she was shaking. Like a sheep without wool. Maybe they should’ve gotten her clothes? If nothing else, it would at least make her feel a little more at home.

Which was so unfair. Waves of burning oak in the fireplace, earl grey with steam curling up, and a rich jasmine perfume that Celestia just seemed to sweat washed through Sunset. She almost felt more at home than she did smelling the wall-laden nicotine and air freshener from her apartment.

Princess Celestia rose to her full towering height. The fire didn’t help. Like, at all. It left an always moving shadow behind her, like some unknowable Lovecraftian horror waited ahead. Not to mention the over-dramatic shadows thrown on her face as if she’d stepped out of a historical portrait. All Sunset could think was that she better not be doing this on purpose.

Sunset did half a curtsey, just to be polite. Twilight didn’t so much bow as hit the deck and hide her eyes. Sliding her hoof over Twilight’s, Sunset smiled up to Celestia. “She’s excited to meet you.”

Celestia bowed her head to Sunset-level. “Should I meet her down here?”

“Sorry, your highness!” Twilight said into the tile. The floor didn’t seemed to accept her apology.

Sunset rolled her eyes. “Could you pardon her? She’s not going to get up unless you say she can.”

“Of course. You may stand, Twilight.” With all the warmth of a sunny day at the beach, Celestia smiled. “I was hoping to be able to look you in the eyes when I finally met this marefriend I’ve heard so much about.”

As soon as Twilight did, she stumbled back from the Princess, posture as proud as a crumpled piece of paper, looking away. “It’s an honour to meet you, Princess Celestia. I’m Twilight Sparkle.”

“Twilight Sparkle, bonafide genius and best girlfriend ever,” Sunset added. At this point, Sunset really couldn’t care if it wasn’t proper, she put a hoof around Twilight. Was she panting? The shaking only seemed to get worse. Sunset squeezed. “And marefriend over here, I guess.”

That didn’t seem to help. In fact, for just a split second, Twilight’s eyes flashed blue. Sunset grimaced. What’s that?

“The honour is all mine, bonfide genius and best girlfriend ever Twilight Sparkle. Anypony close to Sunset’s heart is always welcome here. Perhaps you’d like some tea?”

“Uh, yeah, Princess, do you mind getting the good stuff, from the kitchen?” Sunset gestured to Twilight’s panting with her eyes, and after a raise of the eyebrows, Celestia seemed to catch on. “I want to make sure we give Twilight the best we’ve got, you know?”

To her credit, Princess Celestia smiled. “Excellent idea, Sunset.” She laid a gentle hoof on Twilight’s shoulder. “Make yourselves comfortable while I’m gone.”

As soon as the door closed, Twilight’s panting grew louder and she started to pace. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay, just tell me what’s going on.” Sunset wasn’t sure if she should chase after her or let her trot it out. “Your anxiety hasn’t been this bad in years. Is all the pony stuff really freaking you out this much?”

“It’s not the pony of it all; we pony-up, battle demonic monsters, and deal with Equestrian magic all the time,” Twilight said, now trotting around Sunset like she was stuck in her orbit. “This is big. She’s a princess, Sunset!”

Sighing, Sunset shook her head. “She’s not going to send you to the moon.”

Twilight stopped to gawk at her. “Why would you say that?”

“... Never mind. My point is, it’s going to be okay.” Sunset took Twilight’s front hooves in her own. Not quite as soft as holding her hands back home, but still steadying. The flare of silvery blue magic filled up the whites of Twilight’s eyes again, making Sunset jump. “Is that your magic?”

The flare grew more intense, saturating. “What do you mean?”

Sunset drew her brow together and held Twilight’s cheek in her hoof. “I can see something in your eyes, like a dark magic or something, but you haven’t even been in Equestria a whole day. I didn’t even think you’d have much magic, let alone that it would do anything.”

“You didn’t plan for this?” She panted in time with the flare of magic, which at this point dusted over her pupils making her look like a blind pony. “You don’t know what’s happening to me?”

“I didn’t say that. I know what’s happening to you,” she said, grimacing. Even as she said it, she wished she was wrong. But she didn’t have a PhD in elemental magic for nothing (at least, that’s what she told herself to get to sleep at night). “Right now, you’re really new to magic, so you’re kind of like a newborn foal. Not in the sense that your magic is as powerful as a foal’s, more like you can’t control anything and your magic is fuelled by emotions, deep desires—that sort of thing.”

Sunset was gentle when placing her horn beside Twilight’s so she could look her directly in the cold, dead-looking eyes. “Translation: You’re having an anxiety attack and magic responds to extreme emotion. It’s harder because you can’t just use the magic for anything.”

Twilight panted and shut her eyes. “Of course. Of course I had to make this harder. Heaven forbid you just get a normal girlfriend to bring home to your pseudo-mom.”

Sunset still blushed when anyone called the Princess something like that. When she finally met Discord at a holiday party, he exclusively used the time she and Princess Twilight were in the same room to make fun of their “mommy issues” with Princess Celestia. Sunset punched him, and a few ponies clapped.

Not that it was inaccurate, but Sunset didn’t need a reminder.

“We can work through this together. We always do, right?” Sunset smiled a bit wider when she at least got a nod. “Okay. Just focus on your breathing. In and out. Ground yourself in your surroundings---”

Twilight scoffed, and the magic seemed to white out her eyes further. “You mean the magical pony dimension where I’m in a body that doesn’t feel like mine?”

Sunset frowned. “I thought you said that wasn’t what’s bothering you.”

“It isn’t, but when I think about it I start to remember this is you. This is where you’re from. This dimension, this castle, this is your world. This is where you come from and I’m supposed to be able to fit in here.” Her brow crumpled her forehead upwards, worry lines disappearing behind her bangs. “You fit in with my family, what if I can’t fit in with yours?”

“Twilight, I don’t have a family, it’s okay,” Sunset said, gripping her shoulders. “It’s just Princess Celestia.”

“Exactly. You don’t have anyone else.”

Sunset stared at her. The fire crackled. “… So? I don’t need anypony else.”

“Do you even know how much she means to you? Everything. Because she raised you like her own when nobody else would and if she doesn’t think I’m good enough I’m only going to make things harder on you. How could I ever be good enough to a Princess? I don’t have anyone else to impress and I can barely grapple with what my life even means when I’m in a dimension that already has a me in it—I’m redundant, Sunset” Twilight pushed her hoof up against her forehead. Her eyes were completely white save for small pupils, shaking and seeming to glow magenta. “I’m redundant, I don’t belong in your universe, and I can’t possibly impress the only family you have left. I’m so sorry.”

She’s right. You don’t have anypony else. You’ve got friends, the Princesses, but the ponies who were supposed to love you never did. Sunset grit her teeth. Since when has that mattered? It doesn’t. I don’t care. I don’t care… I don’t care.

Sunset let out a breath. “It’s the anxiety talking. You’re overwhelmed. Just breathe. We can go home if it’s really bad, I don’t care.” I don’t care. “You feeling okay matters more to me. I know you don’t think so, but the Princess will understand.”

“Understand what?” Celestia asked, returning with a box of tea.

Beginning to float, crying out translucent orbs that floated up and dissipated, Twilight looked like she wanted to implode like a neutron star. “Oh no. Not now.”

“Yes now,” Sunset said, “Twilight’s having a lot of anxiety, and I think it’s just being made worse because she’s been pushing it down and doesn’t know how to let it out.”

“Oh dear, I see.” Princess Celestia straightened. “That much dark magic isn’t good for a regular unicorn. This could be very dangerous to her.”

Sunset turned to her old mentor in the firelight, with Twilight muttering in the air ahead. “Then what do we do?”

Princess Celestia grimaced to her ex-student. “We must teach her to let it out constructively.”

“A magic lesson? Now?” Even to her own ears, Sunset sounded like the teenage version of herself, rolling her eyes over every syllable that came out of the only pony who wanted her around at the time. If you really don’t care, stop trying to make this about you. Sunset got a look of her girlfriend suspended in a panic and her heart ripped down the middle. She nodded. “Okay. What do we teach her? Basic levitation? We don’t have time for all the theory and years of practice most other spells take.”

“No,” Celestia said, approaching Twilight with caution. Something about her writhing in the air held Celestia's eyes. “First, we distract her. Trying to use this much magic could be disastrous. Some feelings are too strong to deal with all at once.” Wandering over to Twilight, who at this point now radiated light and levitated small objects around her, the sun of her own book and teacup solar system, Celestia used the most gentle voice in her arsenal. The one she used on Sunset when she was still very little. “Twilight? Sunset and I would like to share our favourite spell with you.”

The globular tears evaporated from Twilight’s eyes. She matched Celestia’s tone, but her voice quivered out of her. “Am I going to die?”

“You’ll be okay, Sparky,” Sunset said, joining Celestia’s side. “I’m right here. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Celestia picked a book out of Twilight’s orbit. “In order to perform this spell, you’ll have to listen to my instructions carefully, but Sunset’s told me you’re quite the remarkable student.”

In suspended animation, Twilight nodded. Sunset had to smirk. There really wasn’t a limit to what a nerd her girlfriend was.

“Good. Then this will be no problem for you.” A smile unfurled. “Sunset, on the other hoof, took years with it.”

Sunset glared. “Oh. I see what you’re doing. Telling an embarrassing story in front of my girlfriend?”

Celestia looked all too happy to nod. “Even my most promising students have their trouble areas. Sunset’s was patience. In order to achieve the Enlightenment state, in which your magic is in perfect harmony with your mind, one must first master meditation. Or at least have a basic understanding of it, which for the life of her, Sunset could not.”

In the heavenly light of her girlfriend, Sunset’s ears pointed up to look like devil horns. “In my defence, undiagnosed anger issues and mindful meditation don’t mix easily.”

“It was quite some time before Sunset wouldn’t get frustrated within the first ten minutes. And even longer before she stopped trying to fake a calm state of mind as if I would grant her the ability myself.” Celestia laughed at that, and Sunset grumbled, but it couldn’t grate against her nerves too much. It was working. Twilight’s breath still hitched, but she wasn’t muttering, and even if her eyes were nearly pure white, her attention was rapt on the princess.

Sunset shrugged. “I didn’t really get the whole concept that inner peace came from within. You chose to date this. Just reminding you.”

Princess Celestia smirked to Sunset. “But in time, even a soul as angry as a teenage Sunset would come to learn the truth that unlocks meditation: the present moment is all that matters. And soon, the thoughts and feelings holding her back removed themselves, one by one, until all that was left, was that.” The items floating around Twilight began to drop and scatter on the floor. “This meditative spell will put you in control, but first I will walk you through every step. Are you willing to do that, Twilight?”

Twilight nodded, and as Celestia taught her how to breathe correctly, how to bring her focus to the right things instead of the panic coursing through her, Sunset again found herself wondering if it was a magical technique at all.

When she was growing up, she clearly needed more than just magic lessons. At the time, Sunset refused to deal with her problems because she didn’t see them as problems. She was too much in her own fantasy power-trip to see. Sunset never exactly reached the coveted Harmonic Enlightenment state, so maybe it really was everything her mentor said, but she kinda thought it was just a way for her to deal with her problems when she didn’t know how to.

As Twilight’s magic faded from her eyes, and she returned to the floor, Sunset’s heart stungto see Twilight bonding with her old teacher and to know that’s the closest Twilight would ever get to meeting Sunset’s real parents. Why does it matter so much if she’s real or not? She loves me. I don’t care if they didn’t.

As soon as Twilight could see clearly, she hugged the Princess. “Thank you. I can see why you meant so much to Sunset growing up.”

Celestia smiled, her voice containing a laugh. “I can see why you mean so much to her now.”

“Sorry I blew this out of proportion, Sunset,” Twilight said. But her smile faltered when she glanced over.

Sunset’s smile was so tight she could feel her throat stretching just to keep it up. “It’s okay. And you know, the good news is? You’re never gonna have to do this meet the parents thing again. My parents didn’t care about me. So, they don’t matter, right? I’ve got plenty of people and ponies who love me. Who needs ‘em?”

Princess Celestia and Twilight exchanged a glance. Twilight bit her lip. “It’s okay to be angry about it, Sunny.”

“Why?” She laughed. “Twilight, I don’t care. I’m over it. I’ve been over it for years! I’ve built a whole life in a whole different universe without them, and it’s a good life, isn’t it? I made up for my mistakes without them. I made new friends myself, I moved in with you, I graduated high school twice. They didn’t visit me when I was in Equestria, they didn’t even say something when I disappeared for years---they wouldn’t care if I was dead!” The strain on her throat brought tears.

Sunset blinked. She wiped her eyes, shifting her weight. “If they don’t care about me, I don’t have to care about them. I’m not giving them that. That’s not fair. I’m supposed to be better than this by now.” Sunset expression seized when tears welled up. “… Why didn’t they care about me?”

Twilight came to her side, and let her cry into her shoulder. She could feel the princess’s hoof on her shoulder. “… I believe they did. In their own way.”

Sunset swore. “Bull. They abandoned me.”

“Some ponies are equipped to be parents when the time comes… do you remember your first few nights in the castle?”

Sunset wiped at her eyes. “Yeah. You sang me to sleep when I got scared.”

“I wasn’t the only one.”


“I can’t stay forever.” Sundown’s grumbling storm cloud of a voice, lilting with a Neigh Jersey accent, rolled over her. “You’ve got school in the morning, kid, you’re gonna be with the Princess. You’ve gotta get some sleep now.”

“Don’t go yet,” Sunset whined, clutching her pillow.

He looked back. “What? You scared of the dark or something?”

Sunset drew her brow together and cuddled her blanket.

Sighing back into his seat at her bedside, Sundown brushed his daughter’s mane out of her face. “Don’t give me that. You’re gonna get used to it here. This’ll be good for you, huh? Probably the only good thing your old man ever signed you up for.” Sunset’s vision started to clear the bits of darkness from his rough, scratchy face. Clear blue eyes, same as hers, imploring to understand. “You’ll get it when you’re older, I guess. When you don’t have to listen to us shouting through the walls or nothing. I bet you can hear that, can’t you?”

Sunset shrugged with the blanket.

“Home’s not a good place for you. But you know who’s gonna take real good care of you and get you outta there? The Princess. You’re her apprentice now, can you believe that? My junior!” He laughed, in the wheezy way he had about laughing, then combed a hoof back through his thinning mane. “You’re the only thing I’m proud of.”

“So… one more song?”

One more song.”


After calming down, and having a real visit, Twilight and Sunset stumbled into the hall of the only place Sunset called home in Equestria, and Twilight kissed her.

Sunset grinned. “What was that for?”

“Sharing this side of you with me. Even if I didn’t know how to handle it.” But her smile lessened. “Do you want to track down your biological parents at all?”

Sunset furrowed her brow. “I don’t know. Maybe. But it’s kind of enough to know I wasn’t the problem. And that they would’ve be proud that I made my own family without them.”