.
The sun was finally set. Not one of her more glorious sundowns by any means, she admitted to herself. But great ancestors beyond, she was tired.
Not that she regretted the reason for her fatigue. Contrary to what the various school teachers seemed to think, she adored it when their classes visited the palace on field trips. It gave her an opportunity to not only help foals understand their government a bit better, but also to personally meet the next generation of ponies growing up nearby. And, well…
So many questions, from so many inquisitive minds. So many new eyes, looking at the world with wonder.
She smiled at the memory. How absolutely marvelous.
But now, Princess Celestia forced herself through the empty corridors, staring at her hooves, willing them to keep moving. A flicker of will and a brief flash of power from her horn, and elsewhere in the palace, her bathtub began to fill. Bless Abacus for suggesting the series of pre-enchantments on her bathing room, so many years ago. Actually drawing a bath sounded like so much work.
Then again, in her current state, she might just fall asleep and sink to the bottom of the oversized tub. Celestia chuckled. That might not be so bad. It would be a silly, foolish way to go… but it would be very soothing, and she would smell nice when they pulled her out.
On the other hoof, what might Luna say at the funeral? She imagined her long-suffering sister, bereaved, devastated, and yet struggling to keep a straight face in front of a thousand mourning ponies.
Alas, my poor dear sister, she lies before us now… so peaceful, so relaxed, so pruney…
Celestia giggled. A few of the guards nearby blinked, but were otherwise still.
As she continued her way, Celestia focused her mind, doing her nightly check on those life patterns most intertwined with her own. It had never occurred to her to compare the nightly ritual to that of a mother checking in on her foals before retiring, but she would not have argued with the comparison, either. After all, while stability did not necessarily mean happiness, a sudden flux could mean unwelcome change or trauma, and thus merited investigation.
And well, regardless of their ages or many heroic deeds, they were all her little ponies.
Twilight’s pattern was first, of course. Celestia’s former student seemed at rest, her possibilities sedate, pulsing slightly as they drew in sustenance. Probably, she was reading. Likewise Spike. Although he had always bonded most fiercely with Twilight, Celestia had always felt a special responsibility towards the young drake, and it pleased her to see that his pattern was also at peace. His possibilities were still woven tightly into Twilight’s, of course, but that was to be expected at his age.
Meanwhile, both their patterns continued to be far less static than before they’d moved to Ponyville, for which Celestia was infinitely glad. Boredom and stagnation were fates she would wish upon nopony.
All in all, their patterns seemed stable, healthy, and flexible, with many strong connections to other life configurations offering mutual support. So, probably all was well with them both.
Next, there was Rainbow Dash’s pattern. Quasi-isolated as ever, yet supporting so many others. And there was her young protégé’s life pattern, of course, woven into hers as though they were siblings.
Celestia smiled. On to the next.
Looking in on Fluttershy’s pattern, Celestia saw that it was feeding strength and stability into an unreadable number of other lives and events. As always.
Point of fact, Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy supported the stability of so many other lives, they were both frankly fascinating to watch. And Celestia suspected neither of them had any true idea just how important they were, on so many levels.
But, as they both seemed to be stable and at rest, Celestia shifted her attention to the next pony on her mental list.
Pinkie Pie—Yes, there she was, full of flux and hard to read as ever. Celestia gave a helpless mental shrug. Hopefully, all was well with her.
Moving on.
Applejack certainly seemed awake, which was unusual after dusk. And her pattern was not so much in flux as it was subtly shifting in perpetuity. Further, there was another, deeply intertwined with hers… ah, yes, that was Rarity’s of course. Who was also awake, and whose pattern was also shifting in a very similar fashion. Interesting.
Celestia contemplated this. Both of them had sisters who were linked into their patterns, naturally. But the mares’ patterns were even more deeply interwoven into one another than those of their siblings. In fact, even now they were actively entwining themselves further, apparently deliberately, on such a level that…
Celestia blushed in sudden realization and turned her senses away, taking in a steadying breath.
Yes. Well.
Taking a moment to refocus herself, Celestia saw that Raven was also awake, as the majordomo would be for several hours yet. Her life pattern had seemed more and more calcified over the last few months, and tonight it looked positively ghastly. Celestia had suggested a holiday for her last week, but Raven had declined. Reexamining the situation, Celestia determined she might have to insist. She made a mental note to speak with the unicorn on the morrow. Perhaps over lunch, when Raven would have a harder time making excuses and getting away.
That left only the newest addition to her short list of charges, Sunrise. Her sister’s marefriend was still not exactly easy to read – she was bound into Luna’s pattern far more than Celestia’s own – but she certainly seemed worth the added effort.
Besides, all personal qualities aside, she made Luna happy. Sunrise Shimmer could have been a demon from Tartarus itself, and Celestia would have been delighted to know her for that reason alone. Hopefully, as time went on, they would become closer, and the young mare’s pattern would become easier to check in on. But in the meantime…
Yes, there it was. It took effort, but Celestia could just make it out, crumpled and folded in on itself as before, strands of potential half-strangled by the creases.
Celestia sighed. Whatever had happened to her in that strange neighboring world, Sunrise’s pattern was devastatingly injured from it. Still, it seemed to Celestia that Sunrise was healing, that her possibilities seemed a little less curtailed than when they had first met. Granted, even if she could have seen the unicorn’s life pattern more clearly, it was hard to be sure over such a short time. But she did seem healthier than—
Wait.
Celestia watched as Sunrise’s pattern suddenly clenched like a fist, collapsing against another pattern it had found. Celestia strained, trying to see…
Oh. She blinked. Oh, dear.
Celestia spread her wings slightly, gently gliding through the corridors as quickly as she dared. The unicorn would surely be in a delicate state, and whatever had happened, Celestia had no intention of somehow making things worse by startling or intimidating her
Her refined senses allowed her to read patterns, not geography. But she knew the configuration Sunrise had encountered, all too well. And there was only one place in Equestria where any part of its touch yet remained.
.
Sunrise silently closed the door to Luna’s chambers behind her. Surprising Luna with breakfast had been awesome, and the berry pancakes had been as big a hit as Twilight had promised. But it was a long way back home, and if she was going to get any sleep she needed to head out now.
She took a moment, and smiled at the silvery moon engraved into the midnight blue door, its bejeweled silver handle. Then, she reached out, gently resting a hoof on the crescent shape. She’d always been more of a night person, but the moon had come to mean something very different in recent weeks.
Sighing happily, she looked across the hall at the door opposite Luna’s, gold sun engraved on white pine. The sun had also come to mean something new lately, though not quite so much.
The door next to Luna’s was unadorned, plain oak. And then, next to that, rose and azure, with a blue bejeweled heart. The other princess, she guessed. Cadence? That sounded right; Sunrise hadn’t read much about her. Maybe she was a princess of music. That would be pretty awesome.
Across the hall from Princes Cadence’s room was a violet door with a familiar six-pointed star. Twilight’s old room, obviously. And Twilight had mentioned that Cadence had used to foalsit her, so the rooms being across from each other made sense…
Then, Sunrise stopped, puzzled. Why the door in-between Twilight’s old room and Celestia’s?
It wasn’t just an oak door, like most of the others down this hall. It was made of red wood - cherry, maybe? - with a clear finish and a elegantly curled gold handle. It looked like somepony had painted pictures on the door, years ago, only they hadn’t stuck to the varnish and had mostly fallen away over time. And they were only on the bottom half, what little was left.
Sunrise peered at the door for a moment, genuinely intrigued. Then, by sheer impulse, she twisted the ornate golden handle and let the door swing inward… and immediately grabbed for the door again. What was she thinking, this was somepony’s room!
But then she froze, door handle half-held in one hoof.
The door had opened into—
Oh, God.
She took in a slow, terrified breath. Stared in disbelief.
Oh, God.
It wasn’t just anypony’s room. It was hers.
It was her old room.
Her old bedding with the star-pattern covers, her old navy blue curtains.
The old vanity she’d converted into a mirrored desk, her art supplies, her books crowded together on a single bookshelf by her bed.
Horror gripped her. Her breathing was fast now, her chest tight and painful. Had it all been a dream? Running away, the years of struggle, finally finding a world of her own…?
If she looked in that mirror, would a terrified 14-year-old girl stare back at her? Still human? Still trapped?
Sunset didn’t so much fall as collapse with her side against the open door, shaking, staring at the floor. She’d passed the threshold, she realized. It was too late to run.
She screwed her eyes shut. She didn’t want to be trapped in the past. Didn’t want for none of it to be real.
Twilight.
Luna.
Please, she thought, please don’t have been a dream, please…
But then, a set of hooves, gentle and strong, were helping her up.
Hooves. Not hands.
“Sunrise? Are you alright?”
Sunrise opened her eyes. There, helping her up, was Celestia. Her ancient violet eyes sad and concerned.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she managed. “Just, um,” she cleared her throat. “Freaking out. A little.” She rubbed the back of her neck, then added as she looked away, “Okay, a lot.”
Celestia didn’t seem surprised, but simply nodded with understanding. “This was her room,” she said.
“Whose?”
“Sunset’s.”
Sunrise looked again, her mind taking in the differences now. She saw the desk vanity, not the second-hand piece she’d restored as a child but a well-maintained antique. She saw the covers on the faded books, far more worn and ancient than any she had owned, and no paperbacks.
Then, there was the way the bed was neatly made (hers never was), with a gold frame instead of the well-worn brass one her last foster home had supplied for her. The stuffed bear on the bed, a dead ringer for the first one she’d had as a little girl, not the one she’d taken with her when she’d run away for good.
But above all, there was the dust. Basic anti-vermin spells would have kept the bugs and mice out, of course. But still, no one had been in the room in years. Maybe decades.
“I’ll need to check the wards later,” Celestia said. “They’re supposed to keep out anypony but her.” Her voice was perfectly controlled, but the pain behind it was unmistakable.
Sunset stared up at her, stricken. “Oh, man. Oh, Celestia, oh, jeez, I am so sorry…!”
“There’s nothing to forgive, my dear.” For all her heartache, Celestia’s smile was genuine. “After all, you weren’t made welcome here by accident.”
Sunrise gave a reluctant smile, then glanced at the room again. She quietly reached out and closed the door, then turned back to Celestia.
“So. You, um,” she nodded towards the hall. “You wanna… go for a walk? Or something? I mean, I know it’s late for you, and if you need to crash, crash. I just hate for your day to end like this, you know?”
Celestia smiled, the royal mask reflexively sliding over her fatigue. Together, the two of them began making their way down the hall.
“Yes,” Celestia said. “Thank you. That sounds lovely.”
.
By the time they’d reached the end of the hall, their conversation had veered towards stress and comfort food. Shortly afterward, their ‘walk’ had led them to the royal kitchens. There, in a walk-in freezer, was a positive treasure trove of ice cream.
For several moments Sunrise had just stood, staring, wide-eyed as any foal. Shelves upon shelves, stocked with every flavor imaginable. Ice cream, sherbet, ice cream cakes, frozen custard and more, along with every sundae topping imaginable.
“It’s true what they say,” Sunrise had whispered. “In Equestria, Heaven is a real place.”
Now, they were sitting across from one another at a kitchen table, happily munching away, an assortment of various topping containers scattered about between them. Celestia had made herself a massive sundae with birthday cake ice cream, whipped cream, bananas and a rainbow of berries.
Sunrise, meanwhile, started out with just a few scoops of an ice cream Celestia had recommended for her. She’d been dubious when she’d read the label, but now she sighed in sheer contentment. The strawberries were sweet, the ice cream was creamy, the pistachios were crunchy, and there was just the slightest hint of that sweet jalapeño bite at the end.
“You know,” she said, “I was never much of a meat eater. Giving that up wasn’t that big a deal. But ice cream?” She shook her head. “Yeah. If you guys hadn’t had that, it might have been a deal-breaker.”
“Agreed,” Celestia said happily. She glanced over at Sunrise’s empty bowl, and asked, “Would you like more?”
“Nah, I shouldn’t.” Sunrise gestured towards where the small tub sat, half-empty, clearly labeled, Iced Creame. “That’s all that’s left. I should save it for whoever else.”
Celestia raised an eyebrow and tilted her head in invitation. “There’s no one eating that flavor but you,” she said.
“What? But then how… ohhh,” Sunrise’s eyes went wide for a moment.
Of course. Commercial refrigerators always included spells to keep the food from ageing or getting freezer burn. The label’s archaic spelling should have tipped her off, but she’d been too distracted by its contents.
“Wow. Okay. Well, then, I’ll save the rest for Sunny,” she nodded. “She’s bound to come around sometime.”
“No,” Celestia shook her head. “Sunset never visits.”
Then she sighed, adding, “Forgive me. I have been very foolish. I opened a door, and now I find myself reluctant to enter. That was both careless of me, and rude to you. My apologies.”
“No, you’re cool. I… look,” Sunrise dropped her spoon in her bowl, pushed the bowl away. “We’ve both got a lot we’re dealing with, here. And it’s weird. Like, really weird. I’ve got all those people – ponies, whatever – who are acting like I’m long-lost family or something, and you’ve got whatever old crap I’m digging up just by being around.”
Celestia studied her. “And?”
“I dunno, maybe your first impulse was right. Maybe we should just face all this, head on.”
Celestia opened her mouth, then closed it. “How would we start?” she said at last.
“Well, how about, um… how much do I really remind you of her?”
Celestia looked back into her ice cream. “A great deal,” she said. “You’re not the same person, obviously. And your differences are also obvious. But at the same time, you could be sisters. I found myself wishing, shortly after we met, that you could have been found here together. She desperately needed someone who understood her, and she had no one.”
Sunrise nodded. “Yeah, I get that. But things are better now, for both of us.”
“Yes.” Celestia’s smile hovered for a moment, then turned wistful as she added, “She has gained a kind heart over the years, and learned so much I couldn’t teach her. I wish I could see her again.”
“I wish I could help.”
Celestia considered the young mare across from her, then said, “Yet, you came here so suddenly, yourself. Forgive my asking, but surely there’s someone in your old world who also misses you, who wonders what might have been?
Sunrise shook her head. “Not really. I mean, once I hit the road, I had a few teachers now and then. Mostly Roundhouse, but I guess there were a few others, too. “
Celestia cocked her head. “Roundhouse?”
Sunrise nodded. “Yeah. He was only a few years older than me, but he’d been on his own since he was nine. He taught me how to fight, how to hustle, how to stay alive. How to rely on myself, and why.”
She chuckled a little at the memories, her voice taking on a soft drawl as she recited, “Nevuh trust anyone but yo’self. In the dahkest moments, even yo’ shadow abandons you.”
After a moment, she continued, “And, he proved it, too. The last lesson he ever taught me was when he took off while I was asleep, with all our money and goods. I had to start all over again, with nothing but the skills he’d given me and a will to survive.”
She glanced at the princess across from her, then looked down. “Sorry. I must be totally blowing your image of me tonight.”
But Celestia shook her head. “Not even a little. Luna has spoken highly of your strength and determination. It is one of the many things she loves about you. I’d just never had any details until now.”
Sunrise gave a rueful smile. “Thanks.” Then, taking a breath, she continued, “Anyway, all my life, I could have just disappeared, and no one would have really cared. Even when I was in the system, more often than not I was just extra income… that, or else someone too young to fight back.
“So, eventually, I did disappear. Multiple times. And there is a kind of freedom, I guess, being able to just vanish without a word. But my life was never like Sunset’s. I never had a Celestia, growing up.”
Celestia looked at her fondly. “Well, you do now.” Then, as the younger mare looked away, she frowned. “Sunrise? Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Sure. I just… this is…” She lapsed into a helpless silence.
Celestia considered her, then nodded.
“I think I understand,” she said kindly. “You’ve probably read that my sister and I weren’t born royalty. The fact is, there was no such thing in those days. Life was a constant struggle to survive, and many times we were met even by our fellow ponies with hostility, or open hatred. Some tried to kill us, as if we were monsters spawned out of flux. And those few who did reach out to us, didn’t know us.”
Celestia took another bite, then continued, “Then, Discord fell. And somehow, despite our youth, we found ourselves suddenly exalted. Beloved by the people who became our subjects and our nation. Even worshiped, for a time. Their affections foisted upon us, whether we would or no.”
Sunrise sighed, ran a hoof along her zebra-like mane. “Yeah. Nowhere the same scale, but yeah. Kinda.”
Celestia nodded her agreement. “It is terrifying.” Cocking her head in thought, she added, “Maybe we’ve been a little inconsiderate, heaping so much on you so quickly.”
“No, no, you’re cool,” Sunrise sighed again. “It’s just… why does all this have to be so feathering scary? Can you at least tell me that?”
“Perhaps because you have the wisdom to know that accepting friendship, and returning it, forms a bond. Just as you know that with that bond comes responsibilities.”
Sunrise sighed again. She leaned her chin on her hooves, and tried to push away the memories.
“Yeah,” she muttered.
“But what you don’t understand yet is that we haven’t put our trust in you blindly,” Celestia went on. “Nor have we given you our love on a whim. We simply see the worth in you that you don’t yet.”
Sunrise leaned a cheek on one hoof. “Joy.”
Celestia chuckled. “I know. I don’t know how to advise you how best to handle this, dear one. I wish I did. But I can’t see into your heart, and my sense for patterns works far better on events than on sapient beings.”
The ancient alicorn glanced over at Sunrise. She saw, of course, the red and gold mohawk, the golden ear hoops in fresh piercings. The black leather cloak that concealed Sunrise’s lack of cutie mark, despite her age.
But beyond that, Celestia took in the grace rippling beneath the unicorn’s amber coat, the strength behind those azure eyes only beginning to be discovered. A formidable young mare, only now approaching the true summer of her power.
“Still,” Celestia concluded, “What I do know is, one way or another, you will find the answers you need.”
“Because I’m so much like Sunset?”
Celestia looked down into her bowl again.
Sunrise winced. Fucking idiot! she thought.
But before she could apologize, Celestia spoke, in a voice both soft and sad.
“No, Sunrise,” she said. “It’s because you have a brilliant mind, a strong heart… and a far better teacher than she ever did.”
Then, silence.
Say something! Sunrise raged at herself. Fucking say something!
She felt like she’d just stabbed Celestia through the spine. Like she’d shoved an icicle through her own chest.
I love you, too, she thought. I love you all, and I’m sorry I keep hurting you. Not only by being stupid, but just by fucking being here!
She could say that. She could. And she would mean it, every word.
But instead, when she opened her mouth, the words hit her closed throat and died there, unspoken.
She bit her lip. It wasn’t fair. Truth was supposed to make it easier to talk, not harder.
And all the while, Celestia sat with a half-eaten sundae before her, lost in her own regrets.
Damn it, no, Sunrise thought. Just... no.
In a sudden burst of motion, Sunrise rose from her chair. She strode around the table and fiercely embraced the sad monarch, hoping desperately that if she did, maybe she wouldn’t have to say anything.
There was a great rustling of wings, and Celestia enveloped her in a gentle, powerful embrace in return, her own chair upturning behind her.
As if to say, no, she didn’t need to say a single word.
.
Hey, this is Sunrise.
Twilight said it was okay for me to use the book, so, yeah.
Anyway.
Um, there is no graceful way to say this, but I kinda accidentally went into your old room last night. Celestia is still keeping it like it was when you left.
For several moments, Sunset stared at the message.
Celestia was… what?
Sunset looked up from the journal, her mind reeling. It had never occurred to her that Celestia would…
Meanwhile, more words were forming on the mystical pages.
Everything is just like you left it, and it’s warded against anypony but you. I guess we’re twins enough that the wards got confused. Is there
Another long pause.
anything you want sent to you? the line finished.
Sunset took in a long, deep breath. Released it slowly, in deliberate control
Hey Sunny, this is Sunset.
Yeah, I wouldn’t know what to say either.
I’ll need some time. This is a lot.
Hey, no prob. I should put the book up, get back to practice anyway.
Stupid feathers.
Sunset snorted, grinning.
I remember. Give ‘em hell.
There was the barest of pauses before response.
Sister, you have no idea.
Sunset closed the book, her grin vanishing. With great, exaggerated care, she placed the book on the shelf behind her, slid it into place.
She stood from the couch, closed her eyes, and took in another slow, deep breath.
.
Twilight’s head jerked up when she heard the scream. Quickly extinguishing the Bunsen and setting aside the vial she’d been examining, she darted from the garage into the house, shedding her lab coat as she did. The indecipherable sounds of rage became words as she rounded into the living room.
“…in a convent, god damn it all to hell and Hong Kong with a flying fuck at Santa Claus!” Sunset railed, throwing pillows in all directions. “You conceited, self-righteous, all-knowing, stuck-up, solar-powered, pseudo-precognitive, smirking, manipulative, sun-butted BITCH!”
Twilight screeched to a halt as a crimson-faced Sunset rounded on her with teeth bared like a Tengu mask.
“Um…” she tried, a little timidly. “…Rainbow Dash?”
“No!” Sunset said, covering her eyes with her hands. “Not Rainbow Dash! Celestia! Fucking Celestia! My mentor! The closest thing to a mom I ever had, which isn’t fucking saying much,” she ranted, gathering momentum again.
“Celestia, the Sun Maiden, the Lady Who Burns, the Princess of Day and who the fuck knows how many other slobbery titles…!”
Filing away the term ‘slobbery title’ for later reference, Twilight walked to her lover and started to put a hand on her shoulder. But Sunset just collapsed back onto the couch.
“Even when I left,” she snarled. “Even when I fucking left, even then, she couldn’t take me seriously.” Then, suddenly spent, she fell back, her head bonking slightly on the bookshelf behind her.
Taking advantage of the lull in the storm, Twilight sat beside her, put her arm around her.
“What did she do?” She asked.
“Sunrise just wrote,” Sunset said, staring at the ceiling. “Celestia’s been keeping my room exactly like it was when I left. And I mean, exactly like it was. Untouched. Magically locked against anyone but me. Ready for me to just move back in any time. She was so sure, so absolutely fucking certain that I would fail, that I’d realize that everything I’d done was just some big mistake, and that I’d come crawling back to her, begging forgiveness…”
Twilight hugged her. “Hey…”
“And you know what?” Sunset went on, pressing her fists against her temples, eyes wide. “You know what the biggest fucking burn is? I did! I totally fucking did! I bowed and scraped, and fucking begged her to forgive me, the very picture of penance, as soon as I needed help with that goddamned memory stone. Christ!”
She buried her head in her arms. “She must have been fucking laughing all the—no,” she corrected herself with a snarl. “No laughing. Her face might crack. Just a knowing smirk and an ‘I told you so’ as soon as I was out of earshot. The only thing missing was me begging for my old room back, because of course everything I’d tried on my own had failed. God damn it.”
She sighed, then repeated, “God damn it!”
Gently, Twilight began massaging Sunset’s shoulders.
Sunset moaned a little.
“My folks are keeping my room for me, too,” Twilight said.
Sunset’s head snapped up, her face stricken. “But I thought they liked me…!”
Twilight shook her head, still massaging. “No, no, that’s not what that means. They discussed it with me. It means they want to be there for me, while they’re giving me my own space. They’re giving me – and you – a place to land in case of accident, so we don’t get hurt. A safety net.”
Sunset blinked.
“They don’t think we can’t succeed,” Twilight said. “They’re trying to show support by making sure that we’re never cornered, and that I know we’re always welcome. Both of us.”
Sunset blinked again.
“In your case, with Celestia, it’s probably also communication,” Twilight said, considering. “According to everything I’ve read, complete renovation of a child’s bedroom in western societies is usually reserved for their marriage, for an acknowledgement of their full adulthood, or in the event of their death. Whichever comes first.
“The main exceptions are when there’s been a bad falling-out. Then, the room is sometimes immediately rented out, turned into an office, or whatever. Showing that the bridges are burned. That their kid is dead to them. And from what you’ve indicated in the past, pony Equestria and human Equestria often have very similar root customs.
“So, since your parting words were angry, and you’ve talked before about how difficult your relationship was when you were a kid, it seems logical that she’d be extra concerned about further miscommunications. Therefore, this may also be an attempt at a passive, non-time specific nonverbal message.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning she probably didn’t want to risk your coming back unannounced, and then thinking you’d been written off. So, she’s protecting your safe place for you. Just in case.”
Sunset stared into space, processing Twilight’s words.
“I’m an asshole,” she said at last.
Twilight kissed Sunset’s cheek. Then she slipped behind her to start working on her shoulder blades, contentedly crossing her legs around Sunset’s waist.
“I’m a crazy, psychotic, screaming asshole,” Sunset went on. “Sweet Jesus, every time I start thinking I’m getting over this whole rage-driven bitch queen thing…”
Twilight kissed the back of her head.
“And, god damn,” Sunset went on. “It’s been a few years over here, but over there it’s been, what… generations? It’s had to have been. I mean, I never worked out the conversion rate between timelines, it might not have even been a constant until Twilight built her stabilization matrix, but…”
She slumped. “Even after everything I’ve learned, I’m still a selfish bitch. God, I never even thought what she’s been going through, all this time. Seriously, never. I only even showed up when I needed something. What’s it been like for her, all these years?
“My old teacher…” She sighed, resting her chin on her fists while Twilight worked on the base of her skull. “Hell, I need to stop kidding myself. She’s my foster mom, for all our problems. And what must she have been feeling? First, I ran away. Then, I went back and I stole Twilight’s coronet – which was the ultimate betrayal of every trust Celestia’d ever placed in me – then I found a better home in another world. And then I just stayed here. Even after the gate was stabilized, even after graduation…”
She sighed, slumping down again. “I’d stayed away all this time, thinking I wasn’t wanted. And now…” She covered her face in her hands. “Damn it! Every time I start thinking I’m not the selfish little bitch I used to be…”
“So, we’re going, right?” Twilight asked. “That is where we’re headed with all this, right?”
Sunset started, then half-turned to stare at her.
“I mean, I finally get to see where you grew up, meet your mom,” Twilight went on, “plus, a chance to study unicorns in their own environment when they’re actually unicorns. Meet,” she amended quickly, while Sunset watched her with amusement. “I mean meet. Meet unicorns.
“And besides,” She looked Sunset over her frames with mock severity. “My counterpart’s library is over there. And if you think I’m passing that up, then you’re sorely mistaken.”
Sunset took a deep, fortifying breath, and released it.
Then she rose, pulling her fiancé to her feet and hugging her fiercely. There was a quick kiss, then an exchanged smile, foreheads touching.
“Yeah. Let’s get ready. I’ve put this off for too long.”
“Now you’re talking.”