//------------------------------//
// Epilogue: You're home now. 
// Story: Harmony Unbound 
// by Saturni_Rose 
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*~Epilogue~* 


A lime green stallion with a maroon mane let out an unsteady yawn. His sleep cycle got thrown off a few days back, and still hadn’t quite recovered. It had always been that way for him, truth be told. Whenever he got a new work schedule, it usually took a month before he stopped being tired on the job. Even still, he had to admit, this was better than the alternative. Eternal night sounded like a real drag, for sure. 
About that time, the belltower nearby in the square chimed. It was noon. High time he got lunch. So, he removed his apron and laid it over the top of his apple cart. When he had come back to it a few days back, after the Summer Sun Celebration, he found the tarp was gone. This wasn’t a huge deal, mind. It was cheap and easily replaceable. The matter was finding time to do so. But things had been fairly hectic. 
As he stepped away, he noticed one abnormally tall pony heading right for him. She rose at least one full head above the average pony, if not moreso. She had a dark blue coat like the night sky, and her mane glimmered as though full of teeny stars. Strangest of all, she seemed happy to see him. Definitely not the norm for girls, let alone alicorns, in his experience. Something was very familiar about her, though. 
“Uh, yes, hello? Can I help you?” 
“I’ve been searching for your cart for the better part of a day. I’m so glad I’ve found it.” 
He eyed her up and down. The former took an extra second, given her stature. “I’m sorry, I actually just closed for lunch. Any chance you can come back in about twenty minutes?” 
“Oh, I’ll be quick,” she quipped with a smile, and started rummaging around in a saddlebag. “See, earlier this week, I showed up in town without a coin to my name.” 
He tapped one hoof impatiently. “That’s sad, ma’am, but I don’t do hoofouts. Sorry.” 
“I didn’t think so,” she chuckled. “That’s why I stole an apple and your tarp.” 
“Wait, you did what?” He glared back at the baskets lining the meager cart, trying to gauge the inventory at a glance. “Well uh, hey, I mean, should I get a town guard involved here? What’s up, lady?” 
She patiently glided three bits out of her pack and into his hoof. “I felt so bad about it, I begged my new employer for an advance on my salary just for this. Oh, and here’s this back as well.” She also presented the folded up roughspun he’d been using to cover his cart prior. And without even asking her to, she flipped it out, and covered his cart for him. 
“Oh,” he said, looking at the bits and his tarp, then back to her again. She beamed above him. “Look, I’m sorry I lost my temper just now.” 
“Please,” she scoffed. “Trust me when I say I know a thing or two about flaring tempers. You were practically subdued, compared to what I’ve seen. I’m Luna, by the way.” She offered her hoof to shake. 
“Plumheart,” he said. Instead of shaking to greet, though, he tried to place two of the three bits back into her possession. “And look, the apples are just one bit. We’re square, dig?” 
Luna pouted over the two coins. “Might I insist? The guilt I felt over this was rather a final weight to break one’s back, so to speak. I want to make this right.” 
“You paid it back and returned the tarp. Seems right as rain to me, yeah?” He smiled, but she didn’t smile back. So his too faded into a grimace. “There’s no way outta this without you doing a li’l more for me, huh?” 
Luna shook her head, and presented the two extra coins once more. 
“Tell ya what, sis.” He took one. “I’ll meetcha halfway, see?”
Her smile was radiant in the summer sun. “Meeting me halfway is all I’ve ever wanted from anypony. Thank you, Plumheart.” 



Meanwhile, high in a tower brandished by winds whipping up and over the cliff face upon which sat Canterlot castle, a door pushed into a dark room. All the candles had been snuffed out. Even the waxes of various blues remained unmelted, before a very old portrait of princess Luna. She was stern as ever. 
Celestia stirred in bed, peering over her shoulder at the intruders. “Petra, Nimbus? Can this please wait? I just…” She pulled on her sheets, facing away from the painted Luna’s judging stare. “I need more time. I’m not ready to go back out there.” 
“The servants are wondering if you’ll at least eat some lunch,” proclaimed Petra, the pink pegasus guard. 
“With it, well, there’s come a missive.” Nimbus, the sky-blue pegasus guard bit her lip, sharing a nervous glance with Petra. 
“I suppose I could stomach something light and quick.” Celestia rolled over, peering down upon them standing in the brightest light in the room. “If the kitchens have any fresh cucumbers? I could eat a cucumber sandwich or two.” She rubbed at her tired eyes. Even focusing this much was completely exhausting. “And, a missive? Why wasn’t it added to my other letters?” 
“That’s the thing,” said Petra. “The way it arrived was bizarre.” 
Nimbus told her: “Supposedly a gray messenger pegasus was spotted, flying in with mail from Ponyville.” 
“P-Ponyville. That’s where…” Out of the corner of her eye, Celestia saw Luna again. 
Nimbus continued. “The odd thing is, a gust of wind struck her. But she managed to keep ahold of every package and letter. All except this one note addressed to you, which was discovered, having fallen into the courtyard.” 
“Almost like it was fate!” espoused Petra, though she quickly became embarrassed by her own outburst. 
“Fate,” repeated Celestia. Despite her best resistance, her hopes began to rise. “Will you girls please have some cucumber sandwiches brought up for us? And, well, I suppose that letter as well?” 
It didn’t take long to get what she wanted up to her. The servants were abuzz with rumors below that the queen finally started feeling a little better. Perhaps life was finally set to go back to normal, sooner rather than later. 
“Don’t be shy, girls.” Celestia threw open the curtains by her bed. She knew she was a mess. Her pearl-white coat was matted down, greasy from lying around in bed for a couple days straight. Her mane, it was even worse, and in desperate need of a brush to run through the blue, green, lavender, and pink streaks. Normally each of those four hues sparkled in the sunlight. Now, they were matte and frayed. 
Petra pulled a stool over to her bed, and Nimbus set the tray down upon it. Celestia graciously passed the cut triangles around so that each of them had something to nibble on. Hers, though, was gone in a few ravenous bites. Perhaps she’d gone too long without eating. But another sandwich would have to wait. Her eyes of lilac purple fixed upon the envelope that came with the food. 
“Does it say who it’s from?” asked Petra. 
Celestia shook her head. “The only name on it is my own. And I don’t recognize the return address. Twilight told me Luna now has a loft above a library, but this appears to be a different location.” 
“Well,” urged Nimbus, chewing on her own sandwich, “open it.” 
Yellow magic arched across the back, tearing a long, thin opening at the top. Celestia withdrew the folded paper. As the creases unhinged, a single, simple message became evident: “I will never forgive you.” 
Petra and Nimbus stared at Celestia after she read it out loud, their mouths agape. The queen herself, her brow curled, and the guilt began to wash across her all over again. Her lip quivered, and she felt the corners of her eyes glistening once more. 
“I… I don’t understand.” 
“Th-that can’t be Luna!” insisted Petra. 
“Yeah,” agreed Nimbus. “Surely she’d never write anything like that.” 
“Oh,” mewled Celestia, “even if it’s not, what if they’re right?” Though the tears had formed, she found she could not bawl as she had these past couple days. Perhaps she was all dried out. Maybe all the hurt she could feel over this had already cut as deep as it was going to. Instead, all she could do was lie back down in bed with a sigh of defeat. “Maybe I don’t deserve her forgiveness. Or anypony else’s.” 
“Aw, no, my queen.” Petra crouched by the edge of her bed. 
“Is there anything at all you want from us, Celestia?” Nimbus knelt beside her. 
Celestia lifted her head, looking back at the note and the envelope it had come in. To her chagrin, they remained uncrumpled. She fixed that pesky error, squeezing them into a compact ball with a tightening yellow aura from her horn. “Nothing,” she said plainly. “I want you to do nothing about this at all.” With a flick of her horn, this refuse sailed across the room, scattering across the stone floor to rest against the entrance. 
Nimbus followed its trajectory. “Nothing?” 
“Nothing.” 
“But-” 
“Don’t make me repeat myself again. I may be a dejected mess, but I’m still queen.” Her eyes became surprisingly stern, despite the bags underneath them. “You two may go now.” 
Petra bit her lip. “What about lunch?” 
“Oddly, I find I’ve lost my appetite.” Celestia turned away from them, crossing her hooves. 
Sensing the tail end of her queen’s patience, Petra ushered Nimbus down the stairs, away from Celestia’s bed. “W-we’ll just leave the tray in case you get hungry again later.” 
“I’m going, I’m going.” Nimbus reluctantly scrambled away at Petra’s behest. When she hit the main landing, she scurried to the door, opening it for her partner. But her fellow guard, she hesitated, turning about to bid farewell to their queen. That’s when she saw Petra’s back-left hoof kick the paper ball out the door. She narrowed her eyes, but Celestia herself didn’t seem to notice. Maybe it was an accident? 
“If you need anything at all, my queen, you know exactly where we’ll be.” Petra turned, nearly shoving Nimbus out the door, whispering through her teeth: “C’mon, let’s go.” 
“Wait,” beckoned Celestia, sitting up in bed. She rose like a pale white banshee, with vicious eyes that saw all, knew all, and condemned all. 
A solid bead of sweat formed upon Petra’s brow. She new the jig was up. “Y-yes, my queen?” 
Celestia sighed, disappointed. “I’m sorry for being rude with you girls. That was completely uncalled for, and unbefitting a queen.” 
Petra and Nimbus exchanged a look, blinking several times. Nimbus stepped forth. “Celestia, it’s ok. You’re in a bad place right now. We get it.” 
“Thank you. For everything.” 
Nimbus bowed, and Petra followed suit. When they were out the door, she asked her upfront: “You’re not taking that, are you?” 
Petra was already smoothing out the paper against the rail of the skybridge to Celestia’s tower. “What?” 
“She told us not to do anything about this. What are you doing?” 
“Look, we don’t have to interfere. We can just… pass by the location. See what’s up, you know?” 
Nimbus removed her helm and rested it under one hoof. “Celestia won’t like this when she finds out.” She shook her head. “Not one bit.” 
Petra snorted. “Then she doesn’t have to find out, yeah?” 
“Petra…” 
“Oh come on. Aren’t you at least a little bit curious about who has it out for the queen?” She tucked the rippled paper under the barding on her chest, huffing. “And besides, what if this isn’t some small remark over hurt feelings, huh? What if this pony is a genuine threat to Equestrian peace here?” 
Nimbus mulled it over, the corners of her mouth pulling taut. “Mmmmmmmmm, ok, ok. Maybe. We can at least check it out later, to make sure we’re not dealing with some deranged lunatic.” She rolled her eyes. “Which, let’s be real here, we’re probably not.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” Petra poked her chest, squinting. Nimbus was nonplussed. “We’ll find out tomorrow. After the changing of the guards, we’ll ditch our gear in the armory, and head to this address.” She pat her chest, where she had stowed the letter. “Deal?” 
“Deal,” agreed Nimbus. She felt somehow they’d immediately regret this. It was likely all a waste of time, over personal affairs they had no business involving themselves in. 



Right about that time, somewhere in the depths of Ponyville’s mercantile quarter, a baker pony felt a shiver run down her spine. She blinked her bright blue eyes several times, trying to make sense of the sensation she’d just experienced. A stout cerulean earth mare approached her. 
“Now Pinkie, I don’t mind you working on a personal project on the side. But you’ve got to keep up with the day’s orders. Why’re ya hesitating, girl?” 
“Sorry Mrs. Cake. I just had the weirdest feeling somepony was talking about me.” 
Mrs. Cake just looked at her. “You’re an odd filly, you know.” 
Pinkie giggled. “So I’ve been told. By you, my sisters, my parents, Rainbow Dash, mayor Mare, Roseluck, Timeturer, Ditzy-” 
“Can you please get these cupcakes in the oven I preheated for me, Pinkie? There’s still a few more orders I need to prep for.” 
“Oui, oui, mon capitaine.” She feigned a salute and rushed about the kitchen. Those cupcakes were set to baking, and on her way back, she iced the prior batch, and sprinkled the ones before even those. 
“Ooh, way to go. You’re on fire today, when you’re not getting weird premonitions.” 
Pinkie Pie dumped food coloring into her bowl, and began to work it in with a rubber spatula. The icing had to be just the right shade of dark, dark blue. “That aside, I do have this, which I’m trying to focus on.” 
Mrs. Cake rounded the counter, curious about this personal pastry of hers. At a glance, the three layers of angel’s food seemed to be cut and trimmed to create the neat silhouette of a unicorn. And that’s when she spied Pinkie reaching for even more blue food coloring. “Hmm, I don’t know of any blue unicorns in your little clique. She somepony new?” 
Pinkie simply beamed. “Only my newest and most bestest friend in all of Equestria. I hope she likes face cake.” 
Mrs. Cake giggled just a little. “I’m sure she’ll love it, dear.” 
“Great! Because I just love her to bits.”