The party was drawing to an end when the group returned to Canterlot gym, but there remained time for two more dances. Sunset wanted to ask Adagio for one, but that honor would go to Wallflower and Applejack. She lingered outside for an extra second pondering in the cold, and so was delayed further by a low greeting.
“You are a friend, both good and true.
I hope she stays the same for you.”
The low rhythm and rhyme identified the speaker before she emerged from the dark – a brown-skinned woman with a mohawk and staff, more clothed than her norm in hide boots and a bundle of furs.
“Hi, Zecora. Merry Christmas.”
Sunset smiled warmly. Most of Celestia’s hunters cared little for the shaman, though Sunset knew her as nothing but an ally.
Zecora smiled in return, though she raised one eyebrow in seeming mockery.
“Christmas? Feh. A new-age thing.
Reindeer, greed, and songs to sing.
‘Solstice,’ ‘Yule,’ were early names,
Called ‘Mesing-Tha’ before man came.”
“Who called it ‘Mesing–” Sunset caught herself and shook her head. “You know what? Never mind, it’s probably safer not to find out. I already know Christmas equivalents aren’t unique to this age, or even this world. It doesn’t stop me from enjoying them, especially now that I have a family to share it with.”
“Valid. Do not get me wrong.” Zecora drew closer, one hand raised in peace. “I too make merry – loud and long.”
“And while the modern brand annoys,
The flowing love still brings me joy.
So thus, to your gray town I come
With gift in hand, just for your mom.”
“You can come inside,” Sunset offered without much expectation Zecora would accept. The shaman stared back with a frown, and Sunset shrugged. “Didn’t think so. Want me to get her?”
“No need, Sunset, for now I tell:
Take this potion and shake it well.
On Christmas morn, with her around
Raise this up and drink it down.”
A befuddled Sunset accepted the offered flask. It was small, containing perhaps two swallows of fluid and made from the scales of some lizard.
“Wait, it’s a present for Mom, but I’m the one who drinks it?”
“Your words there are correct alone,
Make sure you’re in your mother’s home.”
Sunset gave a light chuckle as she slipped the potion into her pocket. “What does it do? Give me plus-four strength?”
Zecora tilted her head and squinted. Sunset’s chuckle took a nervous tone. “Joking, joking. One more question: I, uh, proofread some of Wallflower’s Smash Pillar fanfiction last week and there was this… eheh…”
She trailed off, rallied, and went on. “Look, there’s no good way to say this. Will the potion make me grow man bits?”
Zecora tilted her head in the opposite direction. Her squint remained, though the mouth opened and one eye began to twitch.
“By that I mean a pe–”
“No. What? NO!” The words came far less melodic than Zecora’s norm. She backed slowly from Sunset, then turned away.
“I’ll leave before my mood grows knobby.
Do as I say. And find new hobbies!”
“I was just proofreading hers!” Sunset called, but the strange woman did not slow her retreat into the winter dusk.
Sunset shivered, suddenly aware of how poorly her dress kept out the cold. Time to go inside and warm up with one last dance.
She beamed as the gym’s heaters greeted her return. Not the best evening of all time, but overall? Finals were done, and she was already moved back home for winter break. Two weeks of free time, with no monsters in sight.
And… yeah, she’d drink the potion. Zecora was strange, but trustworthy. How bad could it be?
She downed it on the proper morning, but nothing happened. Sunset supposed that even Zecora made duds once in a while. She shared a calm, pleasant Christmas with her mom and aunt. Sugary holiday cereal for breakfast, a grocery store turkey for dinner, and a present to and from each woman. Spiked leather bracelets from Luna, Equestrian chocolates and luxury pajamas from mom.
The day after Christmas, Luna set down her phone on the kitchen counter. “No luck.”
Celestia’s voice from the living room did not answer. “Check the stove, please.”
A pot simmered on one of the burners. Luna opened its lid and winced – a uniform, unappetizing tan laid within, neither fully liquid or solid, and certainly resembling nothing in the way of food.
She scooped out a fingerful of the viscous formula, sucked it, and suppressed a gag. “It’s lukewarm and tastes like wet cardboard. Let me put in some sugar.”
“The book says no.”
Luna scoffed and shouted back. “I don’t think the book quite anticipated–”
Celestia interrupted across the distance. “Don’t yell, you might disturb her.”
Luna shrugged, not at all interested in an argument. She dolloped a healthy two spoons of sugar into the heated crap and poured it into a baby bottle. Shaking it for good measure, she approached the living room while resuming her old topic. “No cure from Redheart. I’m pretty sure she’s never heard of this, and she wouldn’t stop laughing anyway. What about Professor Whooves?”
“Many ideas, little help,” Celestia sighed.
“So the usual.”
“Be nice.”
Celestia sat on the couch as Luna entered, still in pajamas and bathrobe. Christmas debris of opened boxes and torn ribbons littered the ground around her slippered feet. She held a soft bundle carefully in the crook of her elbow, swaddled with a bath towel and Sunset’s new pajamas.
A tiny, chubby yellow arm poked from the bundle. The green-eyed face of a baby followed, looking to Luna before falling back weakly into Celestia’s arm.
Celestia smoothed back the wisp of red hair coming from the baby’s head. “It wasn’t all bad. He went on for a little while about… you know, positrons and Kinistatic reactions and such. Allegedly, because this is such an unnatural process for poor Sunset, as she metabolizes the potion she will inevitably return to normal.”
“Hey, that’s good.” Luna reached down and mussed up the red hair, drawing a glare from Sunset. “Gotta say I’m disappointed in you, kiddo. Crazy lady offers a mysterious potion and your first instinct is to drink it?”
“Zecora is not a crazy lady,” Celestia responded with the resignation of an old argument. “And I don’t think Sunset can understand you.”
Luna reached in to touch the hair again, and the baby feebly slapped her away. “Pretty sure you’re wrong on both counts. Anyway: bottle.”
“Give it here,” Celestia said, far more decisively than her norm. Luna smirked behind her lips and obeyed, then watched her sister present the bottle to Sunset.
Sunset sucked in her lips, eyeing the clay-like brown inside.
“Come on, Sunshine,” Celestia cooed. A nickname reserved for Sunset’s most vulnerable moments. “It won’t taste good, but you do need to eat something.”
Sunset gave a dramatic baby-sigh and rolled her eyes before moving her mouth around the bottle. Her first reluctant drink was followed by a blink of surprise, and a suspicious glance to Luna before continuing with a will.
Celestia followed Sunset’s gaze. “She’s taking this well. You didn’t add sugar, did you?”
Luna crossed her fingers inside her pocket and sneaked Sunset a wink. “Nope.”
“Oh, Sunshine,” Celestia sang, turning back to her child. A shift in her arm brought Sunset’s head up higher. “Sunshine, Sunshine, ladybugs awake… I really don’t know what Zecora was thinking.”
Sunset coughed abruptly, sending a tan splash across Celestia’s good blazer. Celestia reacted smoothly, wiping the baby’s lips with the towel and sitting her fully upright in her grasp. She set another towel on her shoulder and leaned Sunset over. A few gentle pats on the back eased out a belch with another mouthful of formula.
Celestia bounced Sunset with her knee, beaming as she earned another few burps. “We’ll take a break. Let it out.”
One more bounce, then she hugged Sunset close. Celestia kept Sunset’s head upright with her own, eyes closed.
Luna tensed as a lone tear fell from each one. “Tia?”
“I’m fine,” Celestia whispered. The unstained sleeve came up to wipe her face. She looked to Luna with a gentle pink gaze and quiet smile.
“You’re crying,” Luna said. “If our positions were reversed, you’d be mother goosing me right now. Talk to me.”
Celestia gave a soft huff, and shuffled to get more comfortable. “Fine, fine. It’s not a bad thing. Not really, anyway. Just...”
Her left lip moved up, twisting her smile. Two more tears followed the first. “I always wanted to have a child.”
“Sunset is your child,” Luna said immediately. The baby’s eyes opened, and squinted. Listening.
Another soft huff. “You know what I mean. I wanted a husband with a stable job, who would take cute pictures of my pregnant belly. I wanted to raise a child from the cradle: changing their diapers, taking them to first grade and the parks, watching them grow...”
A long pink finger worked its way into Sunset’s hand, and was duly grabbed. “We skipped all that, Sunset. I wish...”
She trailed off, content to let it rest.
Luna was not. “It’s not too late.”
Then with a smirk, “Little birds tell me you still got it, and got it good.”
“Luna, I don’t want to get knocked up,” Celestia said with a frown. A soft noise from Sunset broke it into a smile, and she kissed a fat yellow cheek and stroked the chin. “I wanted a relationship. Husband and wife and all. Whether or not I still ‘got it,’ I’m almost forty. That doesn’t leave much time to build a romance, then a family. I’m not really the kind to go searching, and I’m mercifully too wise to do something reckless or settle for an unwanted partner. The chance is gone. I’ve accepted it, and I’ve moved on.”
She held Sunset upright before her. She stared into the green eyes, looking back to her with empathy until a light pink finger upon the yellow stomach drew out a babbled laugh.
Celestia hugged her close. “To have this for a little while… although goodness, Zecora, you might have asked first.”
Luna sat down next to her. “Sorry.”
“What for?”
A tight blue frown. “You could have had all that if you didn’t waste two decades taking care of me.”
“It wasn’t a waste,” Celestia replied sternly. “You needed it, and I think I did too. And if I had found lovely marital bliss I wouldn’t have been there for Sunset, so you see? All worked out for the best.”
“Except for you,” Luna said. She reached behind and hugged Celestia at the shoulders.
A melodic laugh answered. Sadness hovered at its edge, but Celestia’s expression was joyful as she nuzzled her head to Sunset. “There never was going to be a prince on a white horse, Lulu. I can live without baby pictures.”
Sunset looked thoughtful as she pressed herself to Celestia, chewing on a bang of the woman’s hair.
“Baby pictures, huh?” Sunset shot Luna a betrayed glare, but Luna only smirked and stood. “Hang tight, let me get my phone.
Although not especially useful, Whooves’ logic proved sound. Sunset was able to crawl and form words that evening, crossing developmental months and using the gift to threaten Luna with fearful retribution if the baby pictures were ever shared. Toileting returned mercifully quickly, and by dinner the next day Sunset was able to sit at the table on four thick textbooks in her seat. Toddler legs kicked weightlessly in the air, and with her chin on the table she stared sulkily at her food.
Celestia was mostly done with hers before she noticed. “What’s wrong? I thought you liked broccoli and cheese.”
Sunset did. One of her favorites in fact, now cooling on her plate with only three bites removed.
“It tastes awful.” A thin yellow hand reached up and pushed it away.
“But–”
“I KNOW!” Sunset screeched, then went on with calmer frustration. “I’m supposed to like broccoli. I asked for broccoli! But it makes this stupid little body want to puke. Stupid toddlers just want hay nuggets, or whatever they eat on Earth.”
She sniffed. Then sniffed again, and pressed her hands to her eyes. “And I KNOW this isn’t worth crying over but this stupid body...”
Celestia pulled the plate away from Sunset and gave Luna a soft command. “Hug her.”
Luna looked askance. “What about you?”
“I…” Celestia stood, and drew something from her pocket. She stepped over and kissed Sunset on the forehead. “Will make grilled cheese sandwiches.”
Sunset looked up with guilt and horror. “Mom, you just got done cooking and I–”
Celestia slipped a small chocolate into her mouth, ending the protest.
Luna wrapped her arms around Sunset. She looked up at Celestia, mouth open and tongue out expectantly. Celestia gave her a nonplussed stare, and Luna waggled her eyebrows.
Shrugging, Celestia popped a piece of broccoli into Luna’s mouth, then made her way to the kitchen.
Growth continued, faster every day. They defaulted to pizza the following dinner, then…
“Seriously?” Sunset glared to her mother. Celestia did not look back, occupied with her lipstick in the bathroom mirror. Her makeup was on, her hair shining, and her second-best blazer in place.
“You know I can’t skip board meetings,” Celestia said distractedly, then called out, “Luna, are you ready!?”
An affirmative came from down the hall, while Sunset crossed her shrimpy arms and pouted. “Sure, I get that. But we don’t need a stupid babysitter.”
Celestia slipped on her purse, still eyeing her work in the mirror. “I’m afraid we do. The last thing we need is for anyone to stop by and find an unattended eight-year old. Then they’ll dig and learn I’m a single mother with psychotic breakdowns in her history… just deal with it, please. I got one of your friends.”
Sunset slumped, defeated. “Fine, so long as it’s anyone but Rainbow. She’d never let me hear the end of this.”
She tensed, and shivered abruptly as the front door opened and a high banshee voice sang out.
“Hello~ darlings~!”
Sunset turned slowly enough to only prolong the anticipation. By the time she finished, Rarity loomed in the entryway, seeming impossibly tall from Sunset’s new perspective. The marble-skinned woman wore a friendly grin that pulled back just a bit too far, and eyes that opened just a bit too wide. She stood with her arms out like a scarecrow, every inch holding a clothes hangar with new designs for child-sized dresses.
As Celestia made to leave, Sunset tugged on her purple slacks. “Mom?”
“Yes?”
Sunset managed to pry her gaze from the blue-eyed horror and looked up to her mother. “I want to watch an R-rated movie when you get home.”
Celestia gave a beatific smile. “Of course we can.”
“With lots of gore,” Sunset said seriously. “And nudity.”
Celestia made to protest, then trailed off at the deathly expression on Sunset’s face. “Of course,” she said, and kissed Sunset on top of her head.
Two hours of fashion hell later, Rarity finally consented to a break. She puttered around the room, gossiping loudly on the phone with a dubiously-interested Rainbow while Sunset beached herself upon the couch.
Ten minutes was enough time for her mind to grow bored, even though her body hadn’t recovered. Sunset fumbled for some form of stationary entertainment and laid claim to one of Rarity’s fashion magazines. Whatever. It would do.
A vintage magazine, strangely enough. If twenty years-old counted as “vintage.” Rarity maintained that it did, and generally kept a few on hand for inspiration.
Sunset gave a low whistle when she saw the cover – ‘inspiration’ was one word for it. A slim, gray-skinned beauty posed in lingerie, smiling to the camera beneath her short pink hair.
“Yo, Rares!” Sunset called, then held up the magazine. “Is this Hemline?”
“That is my boss ‘Miss Prim Hemline,’ yes,” Rarity said. “She started as a model, and is actually getting a bit back into it. Body positivity is in this year.”
She tilted her head, eyes upwards. “Which sounds a touch cynical when I say it out loud… and let’s be real, I can only pray my body looks like hers when I’m fifty. What? Oh, no-no Rainbow, I was talking to Sunset...”
Rarity continued her digital prattle, leaving Sunset to the magazine. The list of models blared across the front cover, headed naturally by Prim Hemline. Then Chiffon Swirl, Nagatha Harshwhinny, Stellar F–
Sunset never caught Stellar’s last name. She fixated on the middle. Nagatha Harshwhinny: hunter, history teacher, and bane of her senior year. Page twenty-two of the lingerie special, with an “adults only” tag stickered on.
...Nope, no way. Sunset moved to put the magazine back, gingerly holding it by the spine with only a finger and thumb. The move let the pages hang free, and released the centerfold image: a blonde, tan skinned woman looking to Sunset with a seductive–
“Nope!” Sunset sprang to her feet, hurling the magazine aside. “Break time’s over! Come on, Rarity, let’s tackle the rest of these dresses!”
The movie Sunset chose had a little blood in it, but nothing more. She sat comfortably, still small enough to fit on Celestia’s lap while the woman wrapped a lazy hug around her belly. They lounged together on the couch, watching the mindless story play out while Luna gamed on her computer.
Barely any blood, and even less nudity. Just a square-jawed masculine hero who seized every opportunity to show off the muscles beneath his shirt.
Somehow, Sunset wasn’t disappointed. Midway through the movie he ditched the shirt while soaking wet, drawing a happy sigh from both her and her mom.
Luna shuffled in place. “Ew.”
“Mommy’s got needs, Luna,” Celestia called.
“Double-ew.” Luna grimaced in disgust. “You know, giant-ass muscles tend to come with gross body hair.”
“Not Applejack,” Sunset murmured, then looked to Luna curiously. “What’s your type?”
Luna shrugged. “Pretty anime guys? I guess? I mean, one, I’m okay with being single forever so long as I’m with Celestia. And two, I don’t really feel comfortable discussing fetishes with a kid who looks like she’s eight.”
Sunset stuck out her tongue. “Human taboos. Ponies think it’s healthy to have frank and honest discussions about sex with their family.”
“La-la-la, don’t care.” Luna clicked her mouse, swinging a digital broadsword on her computer screen. “I’m super interested in the movie, so be quiet and watch.”
Thankfully, Sunset obeyed. Luna turned when the credits began to find her still reclined into Celestia’s lap, and both fast asleep. Celestia with her tongue lolling to the side, and Sunset contentedly chewing on her hair.
Luna retrieved a blanket from the linen closet and laid it over the pair. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, she crawled beneath it herself, resting her head against Celestia’s side.
Faster and faster, Sunset kept growing. Now roughly thirteen, and if the acceleration continued she would be back to normal by tomorrow.
It couldn’t come soon enough.
“Sunshine! Dear!” Celestia called helplessly through the bathroom door. “You look beautiful! It’s fine!”
“No it’s not!” Sunset wailed. “What is this disease? I’ve seen it on others, but why me!?”
“It’s not a disease, dearie, it’s acne. Lot’s of people have it, it’s perfectly normal for your age.”
The door slammed open, and Sunset pointed to the white spots on her face. And cheeks. And chin. “Perfectly normal? Normal!? How in Tartarus do humans survive this!? I think I have them in my Celestia-damned armpits!”
“Sunset,” Celestia tried.
“Gah! I KNOW this is temporary, and I KNOW I’m being crazy, but I can’t help it! I’m so gross and weird! Is this was being an early teen is like? How do you stand yourselves? I hate this, I’m so ugly and–”
“Sunset.”
This time Celestia moved with the words, wrapping Sunset in a calm embrace. She tilted the girl’s tear-stained face up towards hers, and kissed her right on top of the largest zit.
“You’re my girl,” she said, and Sunset smiled weakly into the gaze. “You’re my beautiful baby girl, and you always will be.”
Sunset latched on, and buried her face into Celestia’s chest. They stood there a long moment before Sunset muttered, “I’m gonna lock myself in my room now. I might come out for dinner, I might not.”
“I’ll bring something if you don’t,” Celestia promised. Sunset stood tip-toe to peck her cheek, then fled into the depths of the house.
Normal people would have measured Sunset’s height with a measuring tape, but that N-word rarely touched Celestia’s life. She hugged the young woman close to her, releasing a thoughtful hum as she placed her chin comfortably on top of Sunset’s head.
“You still have a few inches to go,” Celestia acknowledged. She stepped back, letting her exchange smiles with her daughter. “Nothing more. Welcome back to adulthood, Sunset.”
Sunset gave a short, desperate laugh. “It is so good to be back! Although...”
She took in a deep breath, and shrugged. “The week wasn’t terrible. Just really weird. And hey, Aunt Luna?”
Luna poked her head in from the kitchen. “Yeah?”
“Thanks for everything,” Sunset gave her a beaming grin, and Luna answered with her own. “I can’t imagine this was easy on any of us.”
“Eh, it was hardest on you, shorty.” Luna approached and playfully tussled Sunset’s hair. “Tia got to be a mommy, and I got to be the cool aunt. And next chance we get, we’ll have a nice family outing as we go beat the shit out of Zecora.”
“No, we shall not,” Celestia announced.
“Of course, of course. I’m joking.” Luna raised her hands, offering the older sister a winning smile. She waited until Celestia’s back was turned to cross two of the fingers, getting a chuckle from Sunset.
Somehow, Celestia knew. “I mean it, young ladies!”
She turned, brandishing a ladle and hidden smirk. Luna and Sunset squealed and ran, but rallied with thrown pillows as Celestia chased them to the living room. Celestia powered through and tackled Luna to the couch, punishing her resistance with a raspberry to the stomach. Laughter shook the small house as Sunset joined in, loud enough to be heard from the street.
A brown-skinned woman listened and watched through a window. She allowed herself a brief, satisfied smile before her expression fell to something far more serious. Words came low as she trod swiftly away:
“Enjoy your games, and laughs, and grins.
Things grow dark from here on in.”