//------------------------------// // 5. The Princess in Ponyville // Story: Written in the Stars // by Carapace //------------------------------// Friday came all too quickly for Twilight’s taste. Canterlot was her home, her birthplace. Her parents’ modest two-story house on Stardust Lane tugged at her heartstrings, even though she was but a short flight away. There were nights she still missed her small room with its soft purple walls, two bookshelves that were filled to the absolute brim with books, a six drawer wooden dresser with a scorch mark on one side (an unfortunate accident from a teleportation spell when she was twelve), and single bed. All of it just felt so right. Not that she looked at Canterlot Castle any less fondly, of course. Celestia and Cadence had done their best to make her feel welcome there over the years, after all, it would be her home away from her seat of power whenever she came to visit. Her bedchamber with its massive bed, mattress as soft as cloud fluff, countless pillows and comforters that seemed woven from happiness itself, high windows and Prench doors that led out to a splendrous balcony was always a welcome sight after a long day’s work of researching in the Archives, or her study. The latter of which she had on good authority was better stocked than some school libraries. She would miss her two homes so much. But then there were all the things she loved about her city. All the staff and guards she’d seen in passing every day for the past ten years, the ponies she met in passing on the street, her classmates—oh, she’d so miss study sessions with Moondancer! Hopefully the poor mare could find somepony else to debate magical theory with. Or maybe a nice mare, her own Rarity. Twilight would miss it all. All those familiar sights, sounds, and smells that made Canterlot home. Ponyville would be perfectly nice, of course. Quite lovely, even. Rarity, the fillies, and even Celestia herself assured her of that. “It may seem trite to say,” Rarity had told her, “but Ponyville has a very rustic allure, brought on by a very close-knit community. I think you’ll find it quite refreshing.” Perhaps she would. But Ponyville, no matter how alluring it might be, would never be like Canterlot. It just wouldn’t. How could it? It just wouldn’t be the same. Only when Twilight stood on the platform in the middle of Canterlot Station, wrapped in Twilight Velvet’s iron embrace, with a gray muzzle buried in the crook of her neck and tears staining her mulberry coat, did that realization hit. And, by Celestia’s crown, did it hit like somepony had dropped Mount Canterhorn squarely upon her back. Night Light stood just out of hoof’s reach, an amused smile played upon his navy blue lips. “Velvet, honey,” he chided with laughter tinging his voice. “You’ve been hugging her plenty long, don’t you think? Care to let the rest of us have a turn?” Twilight Velvet’s embrace tightened in answer. “No,” she replied testily. “This is my little filly! I’ll hug her as long as I want, and nopony can tell me otherwise!” Just a few paces behind Twilight, Shining snickered. “C’mon, mom, you’ve gotta let go sometime. We’re going to miss the train if you keep this up.” “Royal train,” she shot back without looking up. “They’ll wait for their new princess until she’s ready to embark.” They would, of course. Twilight hugged her mother tight and laid her chin upon her shoulder as she clenched her eyes shut. Tears welled up and stung, threatening to cascade down her cheeks. She held them back, but only just. Sniffling, Twilight pried her hooves apart and drew back, gently pushing Twilight Velvet so their eyes could meet. The sight of her mother’s gray cheeks stained a dark pewter sent a pang through her chest. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Celestia standing with a pair of guard escorts, her lips curved into a small, but sad smile of her own as she laid a hoof upon Rarity’s shoulder and offered a few muttered words of advice. And of course Cadence stood with Shining, both smiling and answering any questions Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle could think of, but a quick look showed a hint of a droop to their ears. Ever so often, Cadence would steal a glance toward Twilight and let her smile falter just a touch. Everypony was happy for her, but each wished they could keep her close. Much as it was always hard to see Cadence and Shining leave for the Crystal Empire, to remain for nine months out of the year. Why did they have to hold different seats of power? Twilight returned her gaze to her mother. “I’ll write often,” she said, loud enough for everypony to hear. “I promise.” “Please do,” her mother choked out. She gave a tight-lipped smile. “Or I’ll come down there and ground you. In your room. In our house. For a month at least.” Night Light let out a bark of laughter. “You can’t ground her! She’s a grown mare!” he teased. “I can and I will!” Rolling his eyes, he nodded. “Of course you can, honey.” He grinned. “Would you mind releasing her so I can say goodbye as well? Or am I still on the wait list?” Twilight Velvet lifted her head and turned to fix him with a glare that could’ve curdled milk, but did little to diminish his amusement. All the same, she kissed Twilight’s cheek, then released her from her embrace and gave a little nudge toward Night Light. “Go give your father a hug,” she said, with just a hint of irritation to her tone. “Before he starts bellyaching about his foals not loving him as much as me.” “Oh, how mature,” he quipped back, then, waggling his brows, he stuck out his tongue and crossed his eyes. Laughing, Twilight trotted over to her father and stepped right into his waiting hooves. She wrapped her hooves around his neck, snuggling into his warm embrace. “Bye, dad,” she whispered. “Have a safe trip, Twily,” Night Light said softly. She felt his lips press against her forehead. “And do write often, or I just might come down with your mother. Only I’ll bring the foal pictures.” “Jerk,” she retorted with a smile. After a moment or two to share a nuzzle, they parted. Night Light spared a nod before he sidled up to Twilight Velvet and wrapped his wife in a comforting hug, ever her emotional rock when she needed support—be it when Shining left for his first assignment, or when her youngest foal finally left the city. Which gave Twilight the chance to trot over to Celestia, her knees quivering like jelly and feathers twitching anxiously as she waited to be addressed. She felt like the little filly walking into the exam room for the first time all those years ago. Back when she was but an eager, nervous student, worried that she wouldn’t pass the entrance exam, and then a quivering basket of nerves when her little magical outburst earned her and her parents a trip to Celestia’s office to discuss her future. Her future as Celestia’s personal student, that was. Celestia turned to face her at last. Those deep purple eyes shone with pride, but with an underlying hint of sadness. More restrained than Twilight Velvet’s, yet … It carried so much weight. Twilgiht couldn’t deny there was a small part of her wanted nothing more than to latch onto one of Celestia’s legs and beg her to reconsider and let her stay. But she held strong. Even as her nose stuffed up and tears made her vision blur, she blinked them away and forced a watery smile. Celestia closed the distance between them. Mighty hooves with the strength to pound boulders to dust swept Twilight into a warm embrace, leaving her hooves to dangle several inches off the ground as she let out a surprised squawk. “Prin—Celestia?” Twilight yelped, only just catching her mistake before she could commit. “I’ll miss you dearly, Twilight,” Celestia said just barely above a whisper. She took a deep breath, her shoulders tensed and feathers twitched. Her wings looked as though they were folded tighter than the Royal Treasury’s vaults. “But you’re needed elsewhere, where your talents and leadership can make a true impact on ponies’ lives. And you need to have the chance to do so, to rule without—” she faltered for a split second, just enough for Twilight to notice “—without me. Without me looking over your shoulder. You need room to grow and blossom into the princess I know you can be.” She pulled away so she could meet Twilight’s gaze, pride shone naked in her eyes. “I have full confidence in you, my favored student.” Her words struck a chord deep within Twilight’s chest. The young princess had to brush a hoof across her face to chase away a bout of fresh tears, she nodded once. “Thank you,” she whispered, leaning in to nose against her longtime teacher’s chest. “I won’t let you down.” Celestia chuckled. “I don’t doubt that. But don’t worry about letting me down, dear.” Her smile faded into a stern, regal mask. “Worry about meeting our subjects’ needs now.” The weight fell upon her once again. Twilight swallowed. “Of course. I’ll do my best for them.” “Good mare. And do feel free to come visit whenever you like, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how much your parents and I would love to have you home.” They shared a smile and one last squeezing hug before Celestia placed Twilight on the ground again and waved her toward the train car. Twilight trotted dutifully over to stand by her brother’s side, smiling as Rarity sidled up to her before she turned to nod to Shining. “I think that’s everything.” “Good.” Shining bowed to Celestia, then gave a wave to signal the conductor. He made a big circle and pointed forward, military signage for “go.” “Safe travels, everypony,” Celestia said. “Cadence, you and Shining will be back on Sunday?” “Yes, Auntie.” Cadence gave her head a little bow, then caught Twilight’s eye and winked. “See you in the car, Ladybug.” Turning to the fillies, she herded them through the open car door, saying, “Why don’t we continue this when we get to our seats? You can tell me more about your ‘crusading.’” Smiling fondly, Celestia shook her head. “Rarity?” Out of the corner of her eye, Twilight saw those ears, as soft and white as snow, perk up. “Yes, Princess?” Rarity replied with a demur bow of her head. “Look out for my former student, please. I leave her in your care.” Mischief danced in those ancient purple eyes. Celestia cast a wink at Twilight. “Perhaps remind her to write her poor, aging teacher once in a while.” Rarity let out a bell-like laugh that sent a wave of fuzziness through Twilight’s belly. “Oh, I’ll be sure to do that, Princess Celestia. She’s in good hooves.” “Excellent. Have a safe trip, ladies.” Twilight bowed to Celestia, then motioned for Rarity to lead the way into the car. She paused long enough to give one final smile and wave to her parents before turning to follow in her wake. She clenched her eyes shut, pointedly ignoring the sting of renewed tears as her hooves thudded against the wooden floor. With a flick of her magic, she shut the door behind her and flipped the lock. Then she stood stock still. Her heart sank into the pit of her stomach, her ears lay flat as the train’s whistle sounded its song—a farewell that felt too chipper. The train jostled and sent her stumbling against the wall. Twilight braced herself with one hoof a mere instant before her forehead hit. She didn’t move, she didn’t raise her head. Her control broke at long last, hot tears flowed down her cheeks like the cascading Rainbow Falls. A gentle hoof touched her shoulder. She jerked her head up, sniffling as she met a pair of dazzling sapphire eyes. Rarity stood before her, a small, supportive smile upon her lips. Purely by trained reflex, Twilight straightened up and stood to her full height. Idly, she noted that her mare-in-waiting’s forehead only just came up to her chin. She made sure to file it in the cabinet she was keeping. A smaller mare, she noticed, would fit just perfectly wrapped in her hooves and wings. “Would you like a moment alone?” Rarity asked as she floated a hoofkerchief and offered it to Twilight. Sniffling, Twilight accepted the hoofkerchief and took a moment to dab at her eyes. She took a deep breath to compose herself, then shook her head. “No. No. I’ll be okay.” With a little fluff of her feathers, she gave a thin smile. “Let’s go sit with the others.” “Or course, Princess.” Rarity stepped to the side and held the inside door open for Twilight. “After you.” “Thank you.” Twilight took two steps, but stopped halfway through the door. Her eyes narrowed, a wry smile played upon her lips. “You’re using my title to distract me.” Those gorgeous sapphire eyes shone more beautiful than the stars themselves. Rarity fluttered her eyelashes and swished her tail, sending those magnificent curls on a merry little bounce. All the answer Twilight needed. With another shake of her head, she allowed the smile to spread across her face as she stepped through the door. Playful distractions to lighten the mood of those around her, and small enough to fit perfectly in my hooves she thought. Another note for the cabinet. The train ride to Ponyville was pleasant enough. With Shining Armor and Cadence sitting on the cushion beside her, and Rarity directly across where she could keep a weather eye on the fillies, Twilight sat and played casual bystander to the conversation as it jumped from school to Shining’s work as a guard to life ruling over the Crystal Empire. Twilight ignored the part of her that told her to remind Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle to study. Though her feathers twitched and her lips pressed together when the cocky little pegasus reclined and scoffed when Rarity mentioned reviewing over the weekend, her heart simply wasn’t in the right place. It was back in Canterlot, and growing further away with each passing second. She could watch it and calculate rate, time, and distance while she let her eyes wander over the rolling green pastures and tilled farmland racing by her window. Her tail flicked, her lips tugged into a frown. “Fifty-three point four seven miles,” she muttered. Fifty-three point four seven miles. Unless she was wrong in her estimation of the train’s velocity. In which case, it could be a couple miles farther or shorter, give or take. Sixty-five miles. The full distance between Canterlot and Ponyville—or, more aptly, the distance between everypony she grew up with and herself, would be sixty-five miles. Just over an hour by train, two or three by flight depending on how fast a flyer made the trip. With a heavy sigh, Twilight closed her eyes. She tried to assure herself that it wasn’t so terrible. She could easily fly to her parents’ house for dinner on the weekend, or take the train up for an official visit to Celestia whenever she needed advice. What was an hour or two or three? Longer than she ever had to wait to see them before, that’s what, the more cynical part of her noted. In Canterlot, Celestia was but a short trot away unless she was stuck in some diplomatic meeting—and only then if it were the yaks or the dragons’ emissary. And, of course, she could be at her parents’ house in under ten minutes if she flew. Or she could enjoy a leisurely walk through her old neighborhood and smile at all those old faces of ponies she grew up seeing every day. Her heart sank into the pit of her stomach. Twilight let her ears droop as her gaze fell to the floor. Maybe she should’ve taken the time to consider the ramifications rather than burying them beneath work, or putting it off to the very end of her to-do list. She rose from her seat. “I’ll be right back,” she said in a rush, turning to walk down the aisle. Cadence’s hoof caught her shoulder before she could pass. “Are you okay, Twilight?” she asked. Twilight forced a tight smile. “Just need to go to the washroom for a moment. I’ll be right back.” She turned her shoulder so she could slip out of Cadence’s grasp, then hurried down the aisle with her head low and ears pinned. She didn’t want them to see her face. She didn’t look up until she slipped inside and locked the door. Twilight took two deep breaths, then slowly sat down, her knees shaking as she lowered her rump down to the cold wooden floor. She glanced up at the small mirror fixed to the opposite wall. The mare staring back at her didn’t look much like a princess. She looked more like a lost little filly trying to play dress up, and happened to wander into the middle of court when everypony was waiting for the real princess to step onto the dais. Was that all she was? A filly playing dress up, complete with crown and matching regalia that gleamed like the midday sun? The real princess had even seen fit to assign her a more beautiful mare to play her mare-in-waiting—a mare who radiated confidence and real world talent, no less. Somepony knocked thrice upon the door. “Twilight?” Rarity called, her melodious voice muffled by the wood. Twilight sniffled, hastily wiping her face and taking a shaky breath to compose herself. “Yes?” she choked in reply. Cursing, she turned on the faucet and stuck her hooves under so she could splash a bit of water in her face. Something to wash the tears away, and maybe make her eyes a little less red. “What is it?” “I wanted to check on you,” Rarity said, dropping her voice just enough that it could sound through the door. “May I come in?” The lost little filly liked that idea very much. In fact, so did the nervous twenty year old princess who felt her heart sinking deeper and deeper into the pit of her stomach with each mile added to the distance between herself and Canterlot. Her horn sparked to life. A raspberry glow engulfed the doorhandle and popped the lock, she pushed it open just a crack. The soothing sapphire glow of Rarity’s magic wrapped around her own like a warm blanket, gently prying the handle from Twilight’s grasp so she could pull it fully open. Rarity gazed upon her through those beautiful sapphire eyes, the concerned frown still gracing her lips made Twilight’s wings rustle. She almost wanted to force a smile, if only to see if it might appease her newest friend. Before she could, Rarity slipped inside with all the grace and poise of a cat, then shut the door behind her. She sat down opposite of Twilight, with her back resting against the far wall. A small smile spread slowly across those her delicate features. “You seem frightened,” Rarity said. Twilight gave a mirthless laugh. “I feel like a filly on her way to her first day at Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. At this rate, I’ll start crying like I did the first night I slept in the castle,” she confessed, burying her face in her hooves. “You must think I’m such a baby right now.” Her mare-in-waiting clicked her tongue. “Hardly, darling. It’s only natural. I felt the same way when I first moved out.” “Really?” Twilight brought her hooves down so she could peek over them. She wrinkled her snout and flicked her tail, then slowly placed her hooves on the floor. “Sorry, but I just can’t picture you being anything less than ready for such a change. You seem so … I don’t know. Like you have everything in your life in order.” Sapphire eyes went wide. Rarity let out a snort, then abruptly covered her mouth to withhold a laugh. “Me? Oh, heavens, Twilight! You saw me with the fillies!” She shook her head, her lips tugged into a rueful grin. She cast a glance around the washroom as if she half expected somepony to come jumping out of the waste bin, then lowered her voice to a whisper, “If I must be honest, I should admit that I bawled my eyes out the first morning I made breakfast in my new home.” “You’re joking.” “I’m not. We live in the same town, I could literally canter down the road and walk into my mother’s kitchen any time I wish. But I broke down crying that morning because she wasn’t there to whisk the pancake batter like she always had when we made breakfast together before.” “Well. I hope you don’t mind my saying, but that does make me feel a little better.” “Why would I mind? It was meant to.” Rarity inclined her brows. Her smile showed teeth. “If I can’t tell the princess I’m going to work for that I cried my eyes out over pancakes in the middle of my brand new kitchen, then what is this world coming to?” A laugh bubbled forth from her chest. Twilight covered her eyes, fluffing her feathers as she shook her head at the sheer absurdity of the question. The train lurched and jostled. The crackling of the intercom clicking on tickled her ears and made them twitch. “We’re making our final approach to Ponyville,” the conductor called. “Everypony please take your seat until we come to a complete stop.” Rarity stood first, taking a moment to dust herself off before offering a hoof to Twilight. “May I help you up, Princess?” she demurred, her eyes shone with a teasing light. Twilight fixed her with a stern look and accepted the hoof. “Keep that up, and you’ll find I can lecture a grown mare just as easily as I can pull two fillies into a tutoring session.” Those eyes sparkled, sending a pleasant shiver that made her primaries bristle. “Of that, I have little doubt, darling.” And curse that gorgeous, lovely mare for using that word in a platonic sense. Twilight grudgingly slipped it into the file cabinet, along with a far more happy note: Rarity would be there to help her through difficult times, no matter how big or small. The first thing Twilight did as they pulled into the station was look outside to see her new home. The station itself was small, and had only one platform. In fact, the building was entirely made of wood, typical of earth pony engineering in the Harmony Province, from what her research told her. But she couldn’t see anything beyond that. There was a large crowd of ponies—earth ponies, unicorns, and pegasi of all ages, sizes, and color—gathered to receive her. Some stood off in the grass, a few pegasi had brought clouds over while others chose to stand on the station roof itself! It was as if the entire town stopped to welcome her! “Should I have brought my armor?” Shining asked as he rose from his seat. “I feel like I probably should have.” Cadence giggled, fluffing her feathers. She pecked his cheek. “You should’ve thought of that before we left, you goofball.” “What? I was busy dealing with mom bawling all night!” He flicked his shaggy blue tail and turned to Twilight for support. “Back me up here, you know how she gets!” Twilight fixed a smile upon her face. She glanced at Rarity out of the corner of her eye and found the mare regarding her with a raised brow and bemused grin, waiting to see where she stepped. Or, more aptly, whose side she took—her fellow princess and former foalsitter, or her big brother. Shining coughed. “Twily,” he drawled, tapping his hoof impatiently. She gave her wings a nervous rustle. “I mean, she’s not wrong, but neither are you. So …” “Always diplomatic,” he teased. “But not wrong.” “Yeah, yeah.” Shining shook his head, then offered his hoof to Cadence. “Time to go survey the platform, care to join me?” Her brilliant purple eyes danced. “Aren’t you supposed to check before letting a princess like me know it’s safe to step out?” she asked with false innocence dripping from her every word. Then she unfurled her magnificent one pink wings and spread purple tinged feathers, an subtle bit of pegasus flirtation, and laid it across his shoulders, pulling him into a tight wing hug. “Uh.” Shining glanced at his hoof, then her wing. “I’m supposed to escort you.” Cadence fluttered her eyelashes and fluffed her free wing. “Adapt, Captain,” she purred. “I like this better.” With a playful roll of his eyes and a warm smile, Shining led her down the aisle, leaning in so their shoulders brushed together with each stride. They stepped through the interior door, then turned sharply to exit the train. The crowd began to cheer. A beige mare with graying mane stepped forward alongside an elderly mare of green-yellow coat and silvery mane who required a walker to move. Both wore smiles as they bowed to greet Cadence and Shining Armor, and moved to introduce themselves. “That’s Mayor Mare,” Rarity whispered, gesturing toward the beige mare with a nod as she guided Twilight down the aisle. “The other is Granny Smith.” “I’m surprised she’s up and about!” Scootaloo chipped in. “This is usually when she takes her midmorning nap!” Twilight’s ears twitched. She looked back over her shoulder at the buzzing little pegasus. “Really?” Scootaloo bobbed her head. “Oh yeah! By now, she’s usually out like a light!” “Unless,” Sweetie Belle drawled with a meaningful waggle of her ears, “there’s something important going on, since she tends to think of herself as everypony’s grandmother.” “Well, she’s old enough to be, soooooooo …” “Good point.” Twilight glanced between the two fillies, and then out the window. Her mind raced a mile a minute, her lips tugged into a small frown. She turned to Rarity and muttered out of the corner of her mouth, “I hope she’s not taxing herself coming out to see me.” “Oh,” Rarity said, laughing and shaking her head. “Don’t you worry about Granny Smith, Twilight. She may look old and frail, but that mare could beat a timberwolf to splinters if she were so inclined.” Blinking, Twilight stole another look out the window. Really? That little mare with the walker, who looked like she was straining to see a pair of ponies a mere two steps before her? Before she could think on it for too long, Rarity nudged her shoulder. “Come along, darling. Your public awaits.” Her public. Twilight swallowed a bit of spit and licked her dried lips. Her feathers twitched anxiously, itching to take flight. Preferably on a path toward Canterlot—better yet, right to her parents’ house, into her bedroom where she could just bury her head beneath her old pillow. Like a little filly scurrying home after all the schoolfoals laughed at her project. But she wasn’t a little filly anymore. With a solemn nod, Twilight waved the fillies forward to stand with Rarity. “You three first,” she said. “If I’m going to do this presentation thing, I might as well play the part right.” “Too right you are,” Rarity replied. Turning to Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle, she shooed them along before following in their wake. Though not without turning over her shoulder to add, “Head high, shoulders square, and wings folded naturally, Twilight. And show us that pretty smile of yours—the townsfolk will respond well to an honest, friendly face.” Pretty smile? Twilight could’ve let happy sparks spout from her horn! But she stayed strong. Instead, she gave a single nod and waved Rarity on as she approached the door. She could hear Cadence taking the time to greet and address the crowd herself, a shorter version of her usual spiel, but no less warm and sincere. Saving the stage for Twilight, no doubt. As Shining spoke up managed to school her face into something resemblance of that stately mask—with her head angled high, and a smile gracing her lips. Though not quite the small, knowing smile Celestia perfected, nor was it Cadence’s dazzling grin which could warm even the coldest of hearts in the midst of the strongest blizzard. It was just her smile. The happy smile of a young mare, her head filled to the brim with countless ideas on how to improve things, but with plenty of room to spare for learning. The smile of an eager student. “Without further ado,” Shining said, his voice booming over the platform, both for their benefit and hers, “allow me to present Her Highness, Princess Twilight Sparkle.” Twilight stepped through the door just as he finished the last syllable of her name. Her hooves had barely touched the wooden platform when wave of thunderous stomping greeted her, dozens upon dozens of smiling faces gazed at her, a group of schoolfoals bore a banner that read “Welcome to Ponyville, Princess Twilight”—with the “t” only just fitting at the end. A lovely little gesture that sent a sort of fluffy warmth through her chest. She strode forth to meet Mayor Mare and Granny Smith Apple, pausing to give an appreciative nod to her brother and fellow princess, silent thanks for yielding the floor. Twilight stopped a mere step before the mares and bowed her head just slightly, as Celestia had taught. “Your Highness,” Mayor Mare greeted, bowing so low her forehead almost touched the floor. “Welcome to our humble little town. We’re delighted that you’ve chosen Ponyville as your home.” “The pleasure is mine, Mayor Mare,” Twilight replied in kind. She gestured with a hoof. “Please, rise.” A quick glance to her left showed Granny Smith trying to bow. She sucked in a breath. “Ms. Apple, there’s no need for you to—” The mare leveled her with a stern glare. “I ain’t so old I need or want or deserve special treatment from Royalty!” she practically spat. “I’m bowin’.” “But it’s really not—don’t strain yourself on my account, please!” “No disrespect, Highness, but I bowed to Princess Celestia when she gave my kin the land, I bowed each an’ ev’ry time she’s come ‘round, and I’ll darn sure bow to any of her kin!” Then her eyes narrowed. “An’ it’s Granny Smith. I ain’t no ‘Ms. Apple’, an’ I ain’t ever gonna be one!” Twilight couldn’t help but rear back as if stricken. A bout of giggling made her flick an ear, she glanced over her shoulder to find Rarity hastily slapping a hoof over her mouth, those gorgeous sapphire eyes of hers sparkled light the night sky. She could almost read “I told you so” off the mare’s face. Granny Smith cursed, drawing her attention again.   Granny fumbled with her walker for a few seconds, then muttered out of the corner of her mouth to Mayor Mare, “Do ya mind holdin’ my walker, dear?” “Of course, Granny,” Mayor Mare said smoothly, her smile never faltered a fraction as she gently took the walker in her hooves and moved it aside, but within easy reach for the aging farm mare. With a satisfied nod, Granny Smith faced Twilight once again, then slowly bowed. A wince and grit of teeth betrayed the pain in her aging muscles and stiff joints. Still, she bowed low, but not quite as much as Mayor Mare—for very good reason, Twilight thought. After a few seconds, Granny Smith stood up straight and accepted her walker from Mayor Mare  with a nod of thanks. She looked Twilight in the eye. “Have to admit, ya got a certain look to ya, young Princess. An’ I do appreciate the concern fer my health.” Her wrinkled face creased as a grin tugged at her lips, a youthful gleam shone in her eyes. She looked to Cadence and nodded. “You tell that Auntie of hers she taught this mare well, and tell her parents they’re welcome in my home when they visit. Ya kin?” “Of course, Ms. Apple,” Cadence tittered. “That’s Granny Smith,” the mare chided. “My mistake. I’ll tell them, Granny Smith.” Cadence beamed, jabbing Shining with a well-placed elbow when he made as though to insert his own comment. Twilight, meanwhile, caught Mayor Mare’s eye. With an awkward little cough, she offered a hoof. “Well, proprieties aside, I appreciate the welcome. You’ve all really gone all out for this.” “Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet, Your Highness,” Mayor Mare replied with a little laugh. “Our bakers’ assistant has vowed to make this the biggest party Ponyville has ever seen. In fact, that’s the only reason she’s not here babbling away at a mile a minute.” She glanced over Twilight’s shoulder toward Rarity and the fillies, and blinked as though seeing them for the first time. Her gaze flitted back and forth, she settled on Twilight once more. “Er, pardon me for being nosy, but … I couldn’t help but notice a few of our own stepping off the train before you, Highness.” She bit her lip. “I hope there hasn’t been any trouble.” “Just call me Twilight,” Twilight replied reflexively, her tail flicking behind her. She turned to look over her shoulder at Rarity, her gaze lingered a bit longer than proper, and bit her lip. How could she not linger? The mare was simply stunning, beautiful in all sense of the word—inside and out. Rarity must have taken her lapse as hesitation or prompting of some sort. Or perhaps she simply wanted the chance to step forth and introduce her fellow townsfolk to her new position. Either way, the way she sauntered forward with a sway in her hips, beaming and gaily swishing her tail made Twilight’s heart skip a beat. Rarity stopped at her side, bowed her head every so slightly, then faced Mayor Mare and spoke loud enough for all to hear, “There’s no trouble at all. In fact, we came with Princess Twilight—” the sidelong smirk she shot couldn’t have been coincidence. Twilight resisted the urge to interject. But only just. “—as a result of my new position.” Mayor Mare’s brows disappeared beneath her mane. “Position?” The little swish of that immaculately curled royal purple tail left little doubt in Twilight’s mind that Rarity had been hoping for such a perfect straight line. With pride in her voice, Rarity replied, “Why, I’m her mare-in-waiting.” Twilight watched her new friend and mare-in-waiting with a smile on her face that threatened to spread into a toothy grin. Judging by the way Rarity carried herself—head high, nose slightly upturned, and not a lock of royal purple mane or tail out of place as they trotted along the dirt path—one might think their roles were reversed. For a split second, a visage of Rarity clad in glimmering silver regalia with ruby gemstones set in her crown and a flowing purple cape with white trim leapt to the forefront of Twilight’s mind. A rosy hue arose in her cheeks. Come to think of it, Rarity would make a fine princess if the reversal were true. And Twilight, no doubt, a mare-in-waiting. Or perhaps she would join her brother in the Royal Guard in such an alternate reality. Idle musings for another time. Cadence tittered. “Somepony’s feeling quite sure of herself,” she murmured just loud enough for Twilight to hear. When Twilight turned to share a grin, she caught a familiar gleam in her former foalsitter’s eyes. One she rather hoped to avoid. With a vulpine grin, Cadence fluffed her feathers merrily, swishing her curly tail as she leaned in to whisper, “And somepony else is quite pleased to watch, no?” Twilight sputtered, unable to retort. She took a step away and caught Shining’s eye. He shook his head. “C’mon, Cady,” Shining chided, hip checking her so she stumbled a step. “Let Twily get herself situated and comfortable before you start playing your games.” “But Shiny!” “I know, I know. But give it time.” His sky blue eyes sparkled so bright, Twilight could’ve sworn they threw off sparks. “They only just met.” The rosy hue in her cheeks spread to her neck. Twilight hastened her steps to catch up to Rarity and the fillies, pinning her ears back to block out their mirth. She managed to plant a crooked smile upon her face as she sidled up to her mare-in-waiting, her feathers twitched nervously, enough that they brushed gently against Rarity’s ribs. Her breath hitched in her throat. Heavens, that coat was soft. Rarity flinched and let out a shuddering gasp. She turned, sapphire eyes wide and cheeks flushed. “Prin—Twilight! I mean—ahem!” she squeaked, then forced a cough. After a moment, she resumed her perfect posture and hid her surprise behind that sculpted smile and neutral look. “Sorry. Yes?” “My fault. I didn’t mean to brush your side,” Twilight mumbled, though a not-so-small part of her felt like prancing along and doing so again. She cleared her throat. “You seem rather happy.” “Oh, Twilight, dear, I’m not happy. I’m absolutely giddy!” “Why’s that?” Before Rarity could offer reply, Sweetie turned and deadpanned, “Because she just lives to be in the spotlight whenever she can.” “Sweetie Belle!” “What? It’s the truth.” Rarity stopped in the middle of the road and flicked her tail irritably. Her ears pinned flat against her beautiful mane. “Yes,” she hissed, “but that isn’t something one typically brings up in present company!” The little filly glanced at Twilight, tilting her head. Then she shrugged. “Well, she’s your friend, isn’t she?” “Yes, but—” “And she had lunch with us at a hayburger place.” Twilight bit her lip, fighting back a smile at the way Rarity’s ear flicked. Another mental note was added: the mare was quite pretty when trying not to lose her temper. In fact, this would be the perfect opportunity to kiss her on the nose like Cadence does whenever Shining gets flustered or frustrated with her teasing. “Yes,” Rarity said after a moment. “She did. However—” “Then there’s not really a reason not to say it,” Sweetie said with an air of finality that nearly made Twilight burst into giggles. She did manage to swallow her mirth and fix that small, regal smile upon her face a mere nanosecond before the little filly’s gaze returned to her. Sweetie pointed a hoof down the path. “The library’s just up ahead, Princess. See?” Twilight followed Sweetie’s hoof, ears perking as her gaze settled upon the proud oak tree standing just up the road, its branches raised high and filled with thousands upon thousands of verdant leaves. A wooden balcony was nestled in its boughs along with a top level observation deck and several windows cut into the wood. A single red door had been cut and fitted into the base of the trunk, and an old red sign bearing an open book and a name written in flowing golden script: Golden Oak Library. All that done to create a library within the tree, yet judging by the leaves and coloration of the bark, it was still alive! The student within her squealed in delight. With a flash of raspberry and a loud ping-crack!, she teleported to the front porch so she could get a closer look. Such a marvel of magic and nature was, to her, like art. More than art. Countless questions raced through her mind. A tree this size shouldn’t be able to house a library, there had to be some rather impressive rune crafting at work to expand the interior while keeping the exterior the same. Rune crafting the level of a master craftspony—or, if she could be a tad arrogant, a student of Princess Celestia. Of course, that begged the question as to just how big Golden Oak Library—her library—was on the inside. Surely it would hold a decent amount, nowhere near the size of the libraries in Canterlot or Manhattan, of course, but sizable. Celestia wouldn’t let her pick it as her seat of power otherwise. The sound of hooves thudding against the dirt path as the others hurried to catch up made her flick an ear. Twilight bit her lip and lit her horn to lift the latch, her feathers fluttered and tail swished merrily as she enveloped the handle in her magic’s raspberry glow and tugged it open, and strode inside with eyes wide and eager to take in everything. Her expectations promptly crashed face first into the ground at full speed. A small room, barely larger than her parents’ living room, awaited her. A single table rested at the very center, flanked by shelves cut into the wood that bore maybe thirty or forty books each. There were a couple bean bags, a couch faced a modest fireplace, and there were three doors and a staircase. A quick look through the doorway on the far side showed a modest kitchen. To her left, a hallway that ended with a tiny guest bedroom. Twilight blinked and trotted toward the third, a wood door cut into the base of the staircase. With a flick of magic, she tugged it open and cast light into the darkness to reveal an empty basement, no doubt used for storage. Where were the rest of the books, though? Small town library or not, there couldn’t just be this. She had more books Humming, she trotted up the stairs, with her brother, Cadence, Rarity and the fillies trailing in her wake. Their questions and calls fell upon deaf ears, save for one. “Twilight, dear?” Rarity asked, hurrying forward to her side. Their shoulders brushed together. “Is something the matter?” Twilight didn’t answer. She reached the top of the stairs and let her gaze sweep across the loft. It was a cute little sight: a one pony bed, an open walkway out to the balcony with a view of the town, a narrow flight of stairs leading up to that observation deck, and another storage closet. The perfect place for a librarian to relax and rest after a long day’s work. That there was but a single, solitary bookshelf didn’t please her one bit. And it wasn’t even half stocked. Her lips tugged into a deep frown. “Where are all the books?” she asked softly. There was a beat of silence. Then Scootaloo gave a nervous cough. “Uh, Princess?” “Just Twilight,” she corrected. “And yes?” “Right. Sorry. Well, Twilight … you sorta, kinda …” Twilight turned slowly to fix her with a flat look. “Scootaloo,” she began, “please don’t tell me those were all the books in the library.” Scootaloo shut her mouth with an audible click of teeth, forcing a smile. Sighing, Twilight looked to Cadence and Shining, the latter of whom raised a brow and smiled. She glared, flicking her tail and unfurling her wings in challenge. “Shut up. It doesn’t bother me.” “Of course it doesn’t,” he retorted. “Your tail didn’t just flick and you’re not taking up a pegasus challenge stance to make me shut my mouth while you try to do everything but think of the lack of books in your library.” Her jaw tightened as she bit back a curse. Shining knew her far too well. Twilight closed her eyes and then sucked in a deep breath through her nose, held it within her for a count of three, then let it out through her mouth. “It doesn’t bother me,” she muttered, more to herself than those around her. “It doesn’t bother me.” A gentle hoof touched her shoulder. “Twilight?” Rarity asked barely above a whisper. “Are you quite all right?” “No. No, Rarity, I’m not all right.” Slowly, she opened her eyes and furrowed her brows. “It bothers me. It bothers me a lot. This is unacceptable. How in Celestia’s name does anypony research anything in this town?” The trio of townsponies averted their gazes. Rarity bit her lip and gave her tail an awkward little flick, a nervous smile spread across her face. “Well …” “We don’t really do those sorts of projects,” Scootaloo replied in her stead. Another deep breath did little to dim the spark of irritation. “Okay!” Twilight huffed. “Be right back. I just need to pop home and—” Shining coughed. “Why don’t you hold off on that until tomorrow? After the party the entire town planned for you.” “But … But …” “Tomorrow. The library isn’t going anywhere, and neither are your books.” His smile was almost as bright as the sun. “Besides, wouldn’t you like to meet your new subjects?” Backed into a corner, Twilight sucked in her lips. His verbal fencing was as sharp as ever, refined by years of guarding and dating Cadence, and serving as Captain of the Guard under Celestia. Again, Rarity sidled up to her, brushing their shoulders together. “If it’s any consolation,” she said, “I’d be happy to help you get the library up to standard first thing in the morning. We can work on it while we get things set up for when you have official visits.” Two of them. And Cadence standing by looking oh so very amused, her purple eyes dancing and feathers fluffing as if she’d been through this exact thing and was thoroughly enjoying the chance to watch it herself. Actually, that sounded quite like her. With a sigh, Twilight waved her hoof to concede defeat. Maybe a party was exactly what the doctor ordered. A chance to let her mane down and meet her new subjects after days of preparation for her coronation and the move to Ponyville. “Okay, fine, but if there isn’t a piece of yellow cake with white frosting, I’m sticking an apple on somepony’s horn.” “Of course there’s gonna be cake, silly filly!” a new voice chirped in her ear. “What sorta party planning pony would I be if there weren’t?” Twilight toppled right over. “Bloody balefire and brimstone!” she yelped, looking up at a beaming, bouncing young mare with pink coat and fluffy fucshia mane. “Who in Equestria are—” “Pinkie Pie!” Rarity snapped, stamping her hoof. “What have we told you about doing that?” The new mare, Pinkie Pie, didn’t so much as falter in grinning or bouncing. Instead, she skipped over to bounce a circle around Rarity. “You said no~o~t to! But it’s fu~u~un!” she teased before turning to beam at Twilight again. “Sorry about missing your big arrival, Princess Twily-wily—” Twilight’s ear twitched at the sound of Shining swallowing a bout of laughter at the new name, no doubt she’d hear it from him later “—but Mayor Mare and Mr. and Mrs. Cake said they wanted me to make extra-super-quadruple sure we had everything ready for your party, and they wanted me to give you a little while to get to the library and get settled in, but I thought I’d come over here and say hi—by the way, hi!—and get things all set up!” It took a couple minutes for Twilight to process the mile-a-minute babble that spilled forth from Pinkie’s lips. Once her mind caught up, she managed a weak, “Huh?” Giggling, Pinkie Pie tugged her to her hooves. “C’mon! I’ve already got everything set up! Just gotta fire off my party cannon and it’ll all be done!” Twilight barely had time to squeak “wait, what” before she was yanked along down the stairs and back into the tiny library’s reading room. Nothing had changed, save for one rather odd addition. A cannon. A literal blue cannon with pink wheels and a flower imprint on the hubcaps stood in the center of the room. Warning signs flashed in her mind as Pinkie skipped her way over to the artillery weapon, humming a happy little tune. “Uh … Pinkie?” “Yeah-huh?” “Please tell me you’re not about to fire off a cannon in my library.” Pinkie scoffed and waved her off. “Don’t be silly, Princess Twily-wily! Of course I’m not gonna fire off a cannon in your library!” She paused a beat, her smile grew to a toothy grin that nearly split her face as her hoof ventured near the pull string. “I’m gonna fire off my party cannon in your library!” She tugged the string before Twilight could think to move, everything exploded in a burst of confetti, balloons, and streamers.