//------------------------------// // 21 - A Gift too Common for a Princess // Story: Sun and Hearth // by bookplayer //------------------------------// It was late afternoon, but Celestia had already lowered the sun and now retired to her chambers. They were warm and bright, with a cozy fire and some festive blended tea awaiting her, but she flopped on her pillow with a frown, unable to gather the fortitude to appreciate it. Most years Celestia looked forward to these short days and long dark nights. The greatest gift of the season for her was always time; time for early evenings curled up in front of the fire, for parties and plays and concerts, for extended visits with-- She sighed and frowned at the book she’d been reading. This year the time seemed like a curse. Each evening stretched long and empty, and each book she picked up seemed shallow and bland. Tonight, the longest night, would be the worst. She knew that across the land ponies were gathered with friends and family to celebrate the miracle on which Equestria was built, while her company for the evening was flat pages full of flatter prose that she was determined to tolerate until the end, if only to see if the book was, perhaps, an elaborate joke. Eyeing the book, she prepared to face off against the author once more when there was a knock at her door. She breathed a sigh of relief and postponed the duel. “Come in.” The door opened slowly and Luna stepped in, offering a nod. “Happy Hearth's Warming, Tia.” “And to you,” Celestia said with one of the most genuine smiles she was capable of forcing. “Would you like some tea?” Luna shook her head, remaining relaxed in the spot in front of the door. “I just wanted to let you know that I shall be out of the castle this evening. If I'm needed, you may send a message by way of Spike.” Celestia frowned with a tilt of her head. “So you'll be with Twilight?” “Yes.” Luna gave a nod. “Is this another secret meeting about me?” Celestia rolled her eyes and gave a toss of her head, but her gaze quickly returned to Luna for the answer. Luna raised her eyebrows. “No, it is a Hearth's Warming celebration. I should think that would hardly be suspicious on Hearth's Warming Eve.” “I was not invited,” Celestia said, doing her best to sound casual. Luna gave her a considering look. “It was arranged quite recently, once Twilight's friends learned the truth of who Cookie was. Obviously he will be there, Twilight may have thought it would be uncomfortable.” Celestia raised her eyebrows at her sister. “So you call him Cookie now?” Luna nodded, a smile warming her face for a moment. “We've reached an understanding, I think.” “I see.” Celestia turned to look at the fire to hide a pained expression. She had always hoped that Cookie and Luna might warm to each other, but now it just seemed to be destiny twisting the knife. Luna's voice softened as she approached where Celestia sat. “Tia, you've been invited to dozens of celebrations around Canterlot. Cookie is in Ponyville and has few friends there outside of Twilight and her friends. Regardless what passed between you, I'm sure you wouldn't wish him to be alone on this night.” “No.” She shook her head slowly, still watching the fire. “No, of course not. I hope you all have a lovely time.” “I'm sure nopony would mind if you cared to come tonight, if you won't find it awkward,” Luna said, with a gentleness usually reserved for foals and the gravely ill. Her wing brushed Celestia’s back. Celestia’s lips pursed, and she looked to Luna. “Even if Cookie weren’t there, do you really think I’d be welcome in light of what the two of you have been saying about me?” Luna raised her eyebrows. “Nopony has spoken false of you.” “That wasn’t what I asked.” Celestia sighed and looked back to the fire. “It wasn’t.” Luna sighed. “You know Twilight Sparkle well, Tia. And you know her friends, and Cadance and Shining Armor, and Cookie. They may not be pleased with you, but none of them would turn you away.” Celestia shook her head firmly. “I couldn't impose.” “Upon Twilight and Cookie, or upon your pride?” Celestia looked up at her sharply, but Luna’s face gave her pause. Luna's expression was soft, and there was a hint of humor and empathy in her eyes that made the question less an accusation than a gentle reminder. It was their mother’s expression, which Celestia had tried to capture so many times. Luna let the silence slip by as Celestia gaped, then smiled and raised her eyebrows as she stepped away toward the door. “I'll let Twilight and Cookie know you may stop by.” As she got to the door she turned and said over her shoulder, “Happy holiday, sister.” “Happy Hearth's Warming,” Celestia returned, watching as Luna continued on, and the door shut behind her. The next hour ticked by slowly. Celestia tried to lose herself in her book and tea, but neither held her interest. She considered wandering the palace and visiting with the guards on duty, but she knew that a surprise visit from one's boss was rarely an appreciated Hearth's Warming gift. Her mind kept drifting to Luna, and to Twilight's castle, and the gathering of ponies she cared for. The gathering she hadn’t been invited to. It was for the best, really, she thought with a resigned sigh. No matter how much she cared for them, they had been poisoned by Luna and Cookie’s words, and now they all knew how little her affection was worth. Her presence would do nothing but chill the room with suspicion and anger, or provoke ponies to cause a scene. That would need to be mended eventually, for the sake of Equestria she would have to convince her fellow princesses to put their trust in her, but she could only accomplish so much in one night. Celestia frowned darkly at the fire as these thoughts crossed her mind once again, then she shook her head clear. She was being foolish. Luna was right, of course; Twilight would welcome her if she chose to come, and if anypony brought up her recent misjudgements Twilight would be sure to step in to avoid souring the event. Even Cookie would keep his mouth shut to avoid animosity while the snow fell and the hearthfire burned. In fact… this would be the perfect time for an appearance. This could be a chance to remind ponies that she was as they remembered her, as they'd always known her, not some dark despot hiding away in her castle. She could get a sense of who might be easily soothed and who was most under Cookie's influence, and perhaps she could even glean the best way of broaching the subject when the time came for more delicate repairs; any defect in the walls they must have built against her alleged manipulations. She needed them to trust her eventually, she could lay the foundations of that tonight, when nopony would be allowed to argue against it. And if the stars allowed it, she might even manage to have a word with Cookie, to remind him that she knew the games he played and that they would be futile in the end. She was and would always be Princess of Equestria. The gold glow of her magic rang a bell to summon a footpony to make the arrangements, and she glared at the book next to her with a silent promise to vanquish it another day. *** Snow was falling gently in Ponyville, and the streets nearby were quiet, with the occasional pony trotting cheerfully through the dark town laden with gifts or food. In front of Twilight’s castle Cookie stood in the light cast from the bright, warm windows of the building, looking up at the stars through the falling flakes. Hoofsteps crunched behind him, but nopony spoke for a moment. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glittering movement. “Have you ever felt small, Luna?” Cookie said, turning to look at her. “Insignificant? You were born a princess, from the very beginning your life mattered a great deal to ponies. Does that ward off the feeling that one is a flake of snow in the darkness?” Luna arched an eyebrow. “I spent one thousand years alone on a rather large rock.” “Touche,” Cookie said with a simple nod. She relaxed next to him and tilted her head in thought. “...but even there, I didn’t feel small the way you describe. The dark magics give one a grandiose view of oneself beyond all logic and reason. I thought I had been banished because I was too powerful, too dangerous. I was no mere princess, I was a queen, the very empress of my barren wasteland.” Cookie gave a snort. “The rocks didn’t care. Ungrateful knaves, every one of them.” She gave a small smirk that made him chuckle softly. Then she sighed as she went on, “But I do think I’ve felt what you describe, as a young mare. I was a princess, and tasked with governing a great kingdom. I studied… oh, how I studied. Books of law, tactics, logic, and history. I worked with Star Swirl on magics that would allow me to improve the lives of my ponies. I felt so sure I was doing everything right, so that I might be seen as a great Princess of Equestria… And then, I would take my place at the council table, prepared to govern my land, and my own council would bicker and jest and ignore me, yet somehow outstrip my knowledge at every turn.” Cookie glanced at her and raised his eyebrows. “Your council was made up of ponies who’d been running governments and fighting wars since before you had your cutie mark.” Luna raised hers back. “Yet I held the title of Princess, and I had since birth. And there, it seemed worthless.” She shook her head. “And truth be told, it was worthless. Had I been wiser, I would have acknowledged that and learned from watching all of you. That’s what she did. Instead I vowed that I would study harder until my books revealed the secret that would make me a princess.” Cookie pursed his lips in a frown at the sky. “That ended poorly.” “Yes.” Luna gave a short nod, then glanced at him. “I don’t place blame on you, Cookie. You contributed in small ways, but it was I who reacted with offense, anger, and pride.” “I understand why you did.” He didn’t look at her, watching the snow against the dark sky that made it seem like the stars themselves were falling gently. “When one feels small, those make the warmest cloak and safest cover, and you feel that you need them desperately. Trusting that other ponies might care feels like asking if cold might not freeze you or the sun might not burn you.” “And yet, many ponies do care.” He glanced over at her. “Do they care enough to see beyond their own offense and anger and pride?” “One can’t know without asking,” Luna said with a shrug. “Would you like to come inside? I’m afraid the cold out here is not a metaphor.” He smiled at her. “Go warm yourself, I’ll be along in a few more moments.” She gave him a distrustful look, then shook her head as she turned back to the castle. “Very well.” Cookie stood there as he heard the hoofsteps retreat and the door to the castle close. Luna was right; it was quite cold here in a very real way, though it distracted him and calmed his nerves. But at some point before he lost feeling in his hooves a return to warmth and friendship was in order, and so he turned to follow her inside when he noticed a movement in the sky. He stood and watched as a chariot approached and landed on the street before him. Celestia stepped off, the light from the castle reflecting off her white coat in the darkness so it appeared to come from inside of her, while the warm rainbow of her mane and tail floated around her. She dismissed her guards and they flew off, then she turned to the castle without making note of him. “Happy Hearth’s Warming, Celestia,” he said softly, his voice carrying in the quiet of the night. Celestia paused and nodded, keeping her focus on the door in front of her. “And to you. Were you waiting for me?” “No, just feeling the cold.” He approached her cautiously, unsure if he was welcome. She bit her lip and glanced at him with a hint of a glare. “Do you expect me to encourage you to come inside?” Cookie looked at her for a moment, seeing all at once her cold beauty and the very equine pony under the mask and crown. He put on his own mask, a casual smile, and answered, “No, but I will anyway, making note that you had no opinion on the matter, for or against.” “Good.” She gave a nod as he fell in step next to her. For a moment she seemed to relax, but as quickly as he noticed she drew her head high. They walked in silence toward the castle. *** Inside Twilight’s castle, Celestia allowed a smile to warm her face as she stepped in front of Cookie to look around. The large front hall was lined with garland and decorations, and a large tree dominated the center, twinkling with lights and glass ornaments. On one side a large fireplace was lit and offering warmth to the room, and Twilight’s friends mingled with Luna, Cadance, and Shining Armor. Twilight looked up as Celestia entered the hall, and her eyes went wide. She didn’t bother with the space between, disappearing and reappearing at Celestia’s side in a flash of magenta. “Princess Celestia!” Twilight said with the same wide eyes and a nervous smile. “I’m so glad you could make it. I would have invited you, but…” She trailed off with an awkward shrug. Celestia smiled at Twilight. “I understand.” The door shut behind them, and Twilight glanced back, then at Celestia with raised eyebrows. “Did you get him to come inside? Princess Luna tried twice. We were about to send Pinkie out.” She rolled her eyes. “Cookie has some strange traditions regarding Hearth’s Warming.” “I’m also stubborn as a mule.” Cookie chuckled. Celestia glanced at him with mild disapproval and opened her mouth to order him to the fire to warm himself, then closed it without a word. Cookie was watching her, and his eyes followed hers to the fireplace then read her expression with a gentle smirk she remembered from ages ago. He offered a nod to Twilight. “If you’ll excuse me, it’s a bit chilly outside. I’ll be over by the fire.” Celestia gave a snort, watching him cross the room. She turned her attention to Twilight and raised her eyebrows. “I understand there was a meeting regarding me.” Twilight had been holding steady with her labored and slightly manic smile, but it dropped instantly, replaced by sheer panic. Still, she managed to squeak out, “I-- you-- you heard about that? I mean, of course you heard about that. You probably keep track of that sort of thing, and you live with Princess Luna, and--” “I’m not mad at you, Twilight.” Celestia offered her a gentle smile. “I’m concerned. If you felt uncomfortable with my rule, you should have brought your concerns to me. We could have talked about them.” “Yeah, well…” Twilight swallowed and shifted uncomfortably. “I mean, of course. Sure. It’s just…” “Maybe Twilight should talk to you sometime, Auntie,” Cadance said sharply from Celestia’s other side. “And maybe you should listen.” Celestia turned, letting the smile fall to a concerned expression that met Cadance’s disapproving frown. “I always try to listen. Your thoughts are very important to me.” Cadance held her glare. “Of course. How else would you be able to use them to get what you want?” Celestia calculated a moment, then cast her eyes down. “I know you’re hurt, but I assure you I was only trying to arrange the best outcome for everypony.” Cadance took a step towards her. “I am hurt, and I hope next time you’ll leave me and my family out of your arrangements. And that includes Twilight.” “Cadance!” Twilight squeaked, inserting herself between the other alicorns, looking at Cadance with a motion of her head. “I think I hear Applejack calling you from the kitchen. She probably needs, um… sugar.” Celestia looked over Twilight at Cadance, studying her. Cadance stood her ground; clearly mending things there would take some serious consideration. Twilight bit her lip and put a hoof on Cadance’s shoulder, almost pleading, “You really should go help Applejack.” With a glance at Twilight, Cadance’s expression softened. “Okay, Twily. I’m going.” She turned and walked off with one last glare over her shoulder at Celestia. “I’m sorry, Princess,” Twilight said gently, turning back to Celestia. “I know you never wanted to hurt anypony.” “I’m sure I’ll find a way to mend things with Cadance,” Celestia said with a firm smile. “I know,” Twilight nodded, then glanced around the room. “But, um, for now you should probably steer clear of Shining, too. And Rainbow. And Fluttershy, at least when Rainbow might see you. And I think Applejack will be polite, but…” An uncertain look crossed her face, then she grinned wildly and a magenta glow hauled Rarity over to them. “Oh, look, it’s Rarity! Rarity, didn’t you have something long and involved to talk to Princess Celestia about?” Rarity blinked, looking from Twilight to Celestia as the pieces fell into place. “I, well, I suppose--” Celestia knew she faced an uphill battle in this room, but she rolled her eyes with a smile. “Twilight, I’ll be fine if you’ll allow me to leave this drafty doorway.” Twilight blinked. Then she swallowed, looking around the room, before answering Celestia with a nod. “Right! Of course! Enjoy yourself…” *** Cookie studied the fire. Since only one picturesque log burned on the grate, he had to assume that the fire and the warmth it cast were the result of Twilight’s magic. He wasn’t sure why she considered this necessary -- it certainly wouldn’t have been difficult to light a less attractive real fire, and the decorations in the room provided more than enough to look at -- but it did make a nice touch. He had been standing there a bit longer than necessary when somepony joined him. Looking over he felt a jolt of hope as he saw Celestia. It was one thing for her to make an appearance at the party, there might be many reasons for that, from public relations to simply not wanting to be alone, but it had to be a good sign that she wasn’t avoiding him. He smiled and tilted his head. “You know, I’m not fond of castles, and one can’t help but notice the magic that created this one had a unique aesthetic… but I find it warmer than many cottages.” She didn’t look at him, answering the fire instead. “It is special. I understand you’ve been making use of it to offer council.” “Mostly to receive it.” Cookie gave a sigh. “One doesn’t need to be a princess to question one’s path and look to the wisdom of others.” Celestia pursed her lips and glanced at him, muttering in a harsh whisper, “I’m not sure how painting me as a tyrant might show you your path.” “I’ve never claimed you were a tyrant, nor anything but a pony dedicated to protecting Equestria and her ponies.” He frowned at her. “You know me, Celestia. I may not agree with your actions, but it’s neither my nature nor my desire to defame you.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “No, it’s your nature to work against me. I am a princess, after all.” He turned his frown towards the fire and stared at it for a moment before speaking softly, “I’ve been thinking about this quite a lot--” “That doesn’t surprise me. This is the most interesting thing you’ve done in centuries.” She glanced at him with a dry annoyance. Cookie looked over and blinked at her, his heart falling. “I beg your pardon?” She glanced around at the other ponies keeping their distance, engaged in their own conversations, then made her face even as she spoke, “I know you’re relishing this. The chance to play Smart Cookie, the firebrand, the common pony hero, ever eager to stand up to the stuffy oppression of authority. And I’m sure your recent thoughts will offer incontrovertible proof that I am a danger to free and innocent ponies everywhere.” He stared at her with his mouth set in a grim line as she raised her eyebrows and went on, “But as always, it will be strangely vague on what might replace me. A better princess, who will face the same challenges and end the same way? A democracy, with its power hungry politicians appealing to the base desires of ponies? A council for you to argue with eternally with no hope of reaching a decision?” The fire crackled in front of them, and around them in the room the voices of ponies murmured. Celestia shook her head, answering herself, “No. Of course not. I cannot live up to your ideals, Cookie, but that’s no fault of mine. Nothing could live up to your ideals. You work against me because I exist, and for no other reason.” Cookie swallowed. He wanted to say something in his defence, but his objections were small in the face of the truth and even smaller before the feeling toward him that must have driven her to voice it. Eventually he spoke quietly, “You’re right. I had hoped we might have a princess who displayed honor, integrity, and compassion, and I know that as a pony you have these qualities in abundance. But perhaps it is impossible to ask them of a pony who must lead a nation. I have no intention of working against you, and I’m sorry if I have in the past.” She turned to him with raised eyebrows, but said nothing. Cookie closed his eyes and drew a breath for strength as he went on, “I told you, I’ve been thinking. I intended to offer my conclusions to you tomorrow, as a kind of Hearth’s Warming gift, unless you’d like to hear them this evening.” She answered with a snort. “Another philosophical treatise. Just what I’ve always wanted.” “I made you honey cakes as well,” he said, studying her face. “That sounds far more appetizing,” she said, quirking an eyebrow. Cookie hazarded a smirk at her. “You haven’t heard my latest philosophy.” Her face was too cool as she answered him, and frost tinged her voice. “Then you could just give me the honey cakes and I’ll be doubly blessed.” Cookie’s face fell, and sadness and worry haunted his eyes. He swallowed and nodded, then turned and walked away. Without looking back, he said, “If that’s what you wish, they’re in a box in the kitchen. You can take them when you leave, and I’ll trouble you no more.” *** Celestia glanced around the room at the knots of ponies; they had shifted since she last noted them, Fluttershy now sweetly rocking Flurry as Cadance spoke to Luna, Rarity, and Spike. Pinkie had joined Applejack and Twilight near a table where trays of sweets and pastries now sat. Cookie had joined Rainbow Dash and Shining Armor, and they were arguing comfortably. Sports, unless she missed her guess. None of the conversations seemed to her liking. Cadance and Cookie were best avoided for the evening, but if any pony there had noticed the tone of her conversation with Cookie earlier it was Twilight, and joining her might be awkward even as mentioning it would be carefully avoided. Biting her lip, she realized her calculations left her no place she might be comfortable. But at least the path towards Twilight offered food. “...I know, Pinkie, I’m just sayin’ I don’t think everypony needs to wear matchin’ jingle bell hats for the pictures tomorrow,” Applejack said to her friend as Celestia neared them. “Maybe they could be optional?” Twilight suggested. “Oh, the jingle bells are totally optional.” Pinkie nodded, then grinned. “I got another kind with glitter all over them for everypony else!” “Pinkie…” Twilight started, but she was interrupted by a nudge from Applejack. “Howdy, Princess,” Applejack said without her usual cheer, watching Celestia cautiously. Celestia nodded to the three ponies. “Hello. Don’t let me interrupt.” Twilight glanced across the room towards Cookie, then offered Celestia a hesitant smile. “We were just talking about tomorrow. Pinkie’s family is spending Hearth’s Warming with Applejack’s family.” “That sounds lovely.” Celestia offered them a smile. “It is!” Pinkie said with a hop. “Tomorrow is gonna be so much fun they won’t even notice how few rocks there are.” “Limestone only mentioned it three times so far,” Applejack said with a flat expression. Pinkie pointed a hoof at Applejack. “Which is exactly why we need the matching hats!” Applejack’s expression didn’t change, save a raised eyebrow. “I'm havin’ a real hard time imaginin’ how that's gonna help Limestone.” “Would you like something to eat, Princess?” Twilight motioned to the table. “Applejack and Pinkie and um, other ponies have been baking all day!” “It looks delicious. I don’t mind if I do.” Celestia said, using her magic to fill a small plate with cookies and cakes. As Twilight tried to broker the negotiations between Applejack and Pinkie over novelty hats and photography, Celestia sampled the sweets. They were all delicious — she thought she had identified her favorite in a spicy chocolate cookie that must have been the creation of Pinkie Pie — until she took a bite of an unadorned slice of gingerbread. It was thick and bready but somehow still as moist and sweet as cake, with a dark taste that balanced ginger a bit sharper than usual. She recognized it instantly, her mind flooding with the smell of it baking in a warm, bright kitchen, a cup of tea in front of her and Cookie across the table, smiling with that light in his eyes. She glanced over at him, though he paid her no mind, and swallowed it with a knot in her throat. What remained on the plate she regarded with trepidation, but she couldn’t resist it. Each bite brought the same taste and smells and memories, and once she was finished it was all she could do not to fill her entire plate with what was sitting on the table. Calling in reserves of will, she resolved not to look at the table or Cookie. The ponies at her side had reached some conclusion regarding the hats and were on another subject entirely, while Spike now held a pad of paper on which Rarity sketched something that Cadance and Luna seemed fascinated by. But neither conversation drew Celestia’s attention enough to distract her from the gingerbread. What did draw her eye again and again, until she allowed herself to fully consider it, was Fluttershy standing apart from the other ponies, rocking the sleeping alicorn foal and humming softly with a sweet smile on her face. It was one of the millions of tiny perfections the world revealed each day. Fluttershy’s gentleness seemed to radiate from her, while Flurry looked delicate and serene in the way only sleeping foals could. Celestia didn’t dare move closer; no word or presence could add to the scene. She wondered if Fluttershy wished for foals of her own someday, or if this was simply a reflection of the care she lavished on her animals. She wondered if things could be mended between them so that she would be invited to visit if Fluttershy did decide to start a family. She wondered if a pony that gentle could be anywhere near as angry at her at Rainbow Dash was on her behalf. Celestia pursed her lips. From what she knew of Fluttershy, she probably wasn’t angry at all, and a few kind words would not only be the end of the situation, but encourage her to soothe any hard feelings her friends might have. It was the very reason Fluttershy was key in reforming Discord. Fluttershy was a useful pony. As soon as the thought crossed her mind, Celestia turned away from the scene with a deep frown, ruffling her feathers. Without a glance her magic lifted a piece of gingerbread from the table, but before she could take a bite she looked around the rest of the room. Everything was warm and peaceful, the ponies she cared for most laughing and talking without a care in the world. Yet she could look at each one and easily tell if they might be a tool or a threat, and she knew that if Equestria were in the balance she could treat them that way. It was the only reason she had come tonight. This was her cage, and it was always with her. She considered turning to leave. It would be best. If she had any desire to display the honor, integrity, and compassion Cookie believed in, this was the only way. Then Cookie glanced in her direction, and they locked eyes for a moment. She felt her cheeks burn, as if he could read her thoughts. ...and she remembered that he left her honey cakes in the kitchen. Cakes she wanted desperately now, after the reminder of the gingerbread. Even if there were no more dreams, there might be memories for cold, lonely nights. But if it was honor she wished to display, she knew she would have to accept both of his gifts together. She only hoped the comfort of the memories would outweigh the pain of whatever truth was in his philosophy. *** Cookie had been only half listening to Rainbow Dash and Shining Armor discussing plans for what they called Extreme Ice Archery, a sport that Cookie suspected many ponies would be interested in playing but no pony in their right mind would be willing to host. The other half of his mind was an endless loop of the conversations he’d had with Celestia this evening, each word and tone of voice and gesture being scrutinized and coming to the same analysis: it was hopeless. By now he wasn’t sure why he’d thought otherwise. He’d seen her true estimation of him before, during their argument and the aftermath. His words meant nothing to her; they were simply an annoyance to be tolerated in return for a warm home and baking. To expect them to warm her heart or change her mind was simply wishful thinking, a fantasy of power encouraged by his place among extraordinary ponies. He glanced at Twilight, but she stood near the table of baked goods, too near where Celestia was looking at Fluttershy rocking the small alicorn princess. Besides, it wouldn’t do to trouble her with his change of heart tonight; nothing might be done until after the holiday in any case. With a sigh, he returned his focus to Shining Armor, trying to wrap his head around how, and more importantly why, somepony might compete at archery while sliding down an inclined sheet of ice. Cookie didn’t hear her approach, instead noticing Rainbow’s eyes narrow at something over his shoulder. “Hey there, Princess Celestia.” His heart beat faster, and his mind raced to find a pretense to excuse himself quickly. “Good evening Rainbow, Shining Armor. I hope you’ll excuse the interruption, I needed to borrow Cookie for a moment.” Cookie grimaced, then he remembered how Celestia had glanced around during their last conversation. It seemed she was trying to keep up appearances. He set his jaw as he turned around to face her, then spoke clearly enough to be heard around the room. “I’d rather not be borrowed, thank you. But if you need to speak with me, we can speak here.” Celestia frowned and glanced around. There was a tension in her face and worry in her eyes, but no malice that he could detect. She gave a nod then raised her head and looked him in the eye. “Very well, what is it?” Cookie tilted his head. “What is what?” She gave an impatient sigh. “Your philosophy. I suppose I should apologize to the ponies present, I’m sure they’ve heard of nothing else for weeks, but I’m curious.” Cookie raised his eyebrows with a frown. “Actually, I’ve not told them. I wanted to run it by you, first, as it concerns your place in Equestria… as well as my own.” That gave her pause, and a shadow of fear showed on her face for an instant before being replaced by a stony mask. “Is it personal?” The ponies around the room were watching them now. Twilight, Applejack, and Pinkie had moved a few steps closer to them, and Cadance walked up beside Shining Armor, joined by Rarity, Spike, and Luna. Even Fluttershy had moved closer, still holding the sleeping foal and hanging well back from the crowd. Cookie looked at them, then back to Celestia. “Very. But not private, I think.” Celestia drew herself up. “Then I should like to hear it.” Looking up at her hard face, Cookie remembered his decision earlier. There was no point to it now. He shook his head. “I'm not sure I'm prepared.” “But you will be by tomorrow?” She raised an eyebrow. “I'm not sure anymore.” He frowned sharply and looked away from her. “Perhaps it needs to be reconsidered.” Celestia looked at him with a confused frown. “I've heard all of your philosophies, in every state of consideration. I'm sure it's thoughtful, if not air-tight.” Cookie sighed and shook his head. “It can't be worse than when you proposed that city where the whole government was selected at random,” she noted evenly, the tension melting from her countenance. She shook her head at the memory. “I honestly thought you might have been possessed by chaos magic.” He glanced at her, studying her face. “It was a thought experiment.” She nodded, seeming more relaxed than she had in his presence in months. “It was a ridiculous one, and I told you so, but I never thought that reflected badly on you. As I said at the time, a pony needs to have many ridiculous ideas to have a remarkable one.” Cookie swallowed and steeled himself with a nod. “Very well… if Twilight doesn't mind an impromptu lecture on an untested theory of the powers of Equestria at her holiday party.” Shining Armor snorted in amusement. “That's Twily's favorite party game.” Twilight shot her brother a wry glare, then smiled at Cookie and nodded. “Go ahead.” The ponies gathered around now, and Cookie willed his nerves steady. What he had to say to Celestia was well rehearsed, though he hadn’t expected an audience. Still, they were friends, and he knew this gathering would respect what he had to say on this subject. Whether Celestia might was another matter, and one that forced him to think a prayer to the stars for strength. Cookie’s mouth felt dry as he turned to look at her, as beautiful as she had always been, with her mane wafting gently around her and the gold crown of Equestria on her head. “Celestia. You are a brilliant pony, in every sense of the word.” She raised her eyebrows in surprise. “A promising start.” “The Summer Sun Celebration is your holiday,” he went on. “It’s a demonstration of your power and might, and the ability that gives you to shine light across the world. Luna and Twilight stand by your side, living symbols of the quiet and careful planning and tactical maneuvering that secures that power for you and for Equestria. There is no accident in the Summer Sun Celebration, and if parts go unseen by most, they were overseen by you as you arranged, studied, and guided so that they might happen at the right time, to the benefit of all ponies.” He paused and offered her a nod of respect. “Allow me to be the first to say that this is an achievement entirely worthy of the glory and affection your ponies offer you. And I hope that nopony, least of all myself, forgets that we have been blessed to live in the light and peace you work so tirelessly to ensure.” The ponies around them murmured hesitant agreement. Celestia eyed him with nervous suspicion, but returned his nod with good grace. “I have no place at the Summer Sun Celebration. In fact, my own holiday falls opposite, on the darkest days of the year, darker even than Nightmare Night.” He frowned, looking around, not at the ponies but at the room itself with its cheerful holiday decorations. Setting his mouth in a firm line, he gave a nod to nopony in particular. “And that is right. For even as it celebrates the founding of Equestria, and the love and friendship that gave birth to it, it commemorates the crumbling of three glorious nations, the most powerful in the world at the time, and the near extinction of the pony race.” Cookie looked to Celestia, then Luna. “You both remember those old cities. Noble Monoceros, home of cunning Princesses and Princes and powerful mages, with castles and magic that rivaled your own today. Thriving, bustling Girthshire, with its ships and caravans laden with food and goods, and talented guilds that produced our bounty. Mighty Hippocampus, with a brave military force and precise organization never surpassed, nor likely to be in the future. Each of them populated by ponies secure in their safety and prosperity, led by rulers who were equally secure in their rule...” He frowned, and his voice grew quiet. “And today they are dust. Barren wasteland, tainted by the powers that brought them crashing around our hooves.” Luna bowed her head, and Celestia nodded solemnly. Looking to the other ponies, Cookie saw the serious unease of ponies who found themselves at a funeral for a distant acquaintance. Cookie drew a breath and went on, “Those powers came not from outside, not from a power wielded by a greater nation or being. The windigos were but flies, drawn to the rot that had set in, spreading disease to speed the death of a weakened body. There was no monster or villain who deserves the blame…” He paused and looked around at the other ponies in the room. “None except for me, and every other pony who failed to notice that rot… the distrust, disdain, callousness, and suspicion that grew between fellow ponies.” He turned to Twilight, finding that her friends had gravitated around her, and raised his eyebrows at them. “As one of those villains, among the most successful in history, I have determined what it takes to destroy a kingdom: It takes ponies looking to care for those they love, to protect their wellbeing, and to defend their own honor. It takes pride and loyalty and bravery.” “And, above all, it takes the belief that others with different lands, love, and honor are stubborn, or misguided, or foolish,” Cookie said with a glance first at Celestia, then the rest of the gathered ponies. “Even if you never lift a spear against them, the thoughts spring easily to mind and the words begin to slip off the tongue. First it’s ignorant, conniving, bullheaded. Then stick head, feather brain, mud pony. Your shoulder turns cold towards their misfortune, which they clearly brought upon themselves, and suspicious towards their successes, which must be at your expense. Friendship is swept away. And you never notice; after all, your land and loved ones are safe, and your honor intact.” With a pause, he turned back to Celestia. “And thus the most powerful ponies in the world, the rulers of great nations, froze to death in a dark cave, their nations buried under ice, their magic and spears and treaties useless.” Celestia gave a hesitant nod. Her face was set in a firm frown, but her eyes darted over the faces of the other ponies there. Cookie realized that this room held the defenses she’d built against such things, and it was obvious that she noticed how they’d cracked and weakened recently. Cookie waited until her eyes landed on him before he went on more gently, “And we have Hearth’s Warming. Hearth’s Warming is my day to protect Equestria, though not alone-- never alone. The power we celebrate today comes from each pony in Equestria in their own small ways, and is honored by those who share a fireplace or kitchen or a place in one another’s lives.” Celestia watched him with nothing but interest, but Cookie found it impossible to hold steady before her. He cast his eyes down and shook his head. “It was no accident that Clover and Pansy and I found it. Left untouched by the glories of our kingdoms, without the strength to wield weapons, with minds ill-suited to the manipulation of other ponies, we found it because we had no other powers to reach for. Our only powers were trust, respect, understanding, consideration, empathy, and compassion. And from those powers, we drew life, and unity, and Equestria.” He hazarded a glance at the other ponies, finding Twilight’s encouraging smile. He raised his head and went on. “Those are the powers we celebrate each year, not because they are awe inspiring and impressive, but because they aren’t. They are common and ordinary, things every pony possesses... and they are too easily forgotten or cast aside in the name of greater things… in the name of protecting one’s land, and loved ones, and defending one’s honor. And when that happens, a society rots and falls to darkness without a spell cast or a drop of blood spilled or a treaty broken.” Cookie took a deep breath, gathering his strength, and looked to Celestia. She still stood proud, her even mask upon her face, watching him. But she seemed smaller somehow; she was a pony, no more and no less. “So I propose to you this, Celestia: The sun must be guided, and there is glory in that, and it casts its light on all ponies. The hearth must be tended, quietly, for the ponies we see each day. But both are needed to light the darkness and keep away the cold.” She swallowed and looked around the room with worry in her eyes, then she looked to him and nodded. “You make a good argument. One cannot ignore the lessons of history.” Cookie nodded as well, feeling hope light in his heart for the first time that night, fighting back against the cold certainty of rejection. “In that spirit, I offer you a Hearth’s Warming gift, one far too humble and common for a princess. The one I offered Clover and Pansy in a cold, dark cave, and was given in return.” Looking into her rose eyes, Cookie found a desperate pleading and the beginnings of tears. The mask of the princess had fallen away and those same emotions were plain on her face. Cookie could feel his own tears welling as a strange mixture of sympathy and love and certainty filled him, and he went on quickly and easily, “I offer you trust in your desire to do good and to see the same in ponies around you. I offer you respect as a fellow pony, with talents and accomplishments deserving of it. I offer you understanding and consideration of your own thoughts and feelings, and compassion and sympathy for the burdens you bear and the missteps you make. “I offer a sincere apology for any time I’ve withheld these from you. I know that I have too often of late. And I offer my deepest hope that my gift helps warm your hearth on these dark nights, and keeps the rot at bay before it ever touches your beautiful heart.” Cookie couldn’t resist reaching a hoof to touch her there, on her chest just below the hard, cold golden neck piece. Celestia’s wings ruffled at the touch, but her eyes never left his as she whispered, “Oh, Cookie… You mean this? All of it?” He nodded. “With all my heart, Celestia. This is the only power I know of that can bridge a gap as wide as the one that’s grown between us.” “I’ll do my best to always be worthy of it, even if I do sometimes falter… and I know I have.” She looked down, cringing. Then she looked up at him and the ponies gathered around them, her eyes full of tears. “I know I’ve treated you badly, all of you. I came here tonight to try to soothe the bad feelings so that you all might forget that, so that you all might think of me as you did before…” She swallowed and shook her head. “But that isn’t what I want.” Twilight tilted her head and asked gently, “What do you want, Princess?” Celestia blinked at Twilight, then she scanned the faces of the other ponies again, as if searching for an answer. Finally her eyes landed on Cookie, and she nodded firmly then turned back to Twilight with determination. “I just want to apologize. I’m sorry, Twilight. I should have told you… I should have told you so many things over the years. You’re much smarter than I am, and you deserve all the information I can give you. And Fluttershy… you’ve done so much for Equestria in your life, I had no right to take for granted that you'd offer more, let alone for eternity.” Fluttershy's eyes were wide, and she cradled Flurry before her as if she was trying to hide behind the baby, suddenly finding herself the center of attention. But looking into Celestia's eyes for a moment, she nodded and said softly, “I forgive you, Princess.” Celestia offered her a nod of thanks with a deep frown. “I know you do, and that makes what I did all the worse.” Shaking her head, she turned to the next pony. “Cadance, you’re wise not to trust me, and I’m sure you still suspect me of manipulation. And there’s no way I can disprove that, and it breaks my heart. But perhaps over time you could come to trust me again, and I will never again give you reason not to.” Cadance stood proud, but a satisfied smile played on her lips. “I believe you, Auntie Celestia.” “Thank you.” Celestia looked to her sister next to Cadance, and crossed the space to look her in the eye and lay a hoof on her shoulder. “Luna... Sister, every word you spoke was truth. I have been a fool, and you were wise to see it and make yourself heard, no matter how little I wanted to hear.” She turned her head and smiled fondly at Rainbow Dash. “And you as well, Rainbow Dash. Every princess should be so lucky as to have a subject as fearless and honorable as you.“ Twilight shot Rainbow Dash a look out of the corner of her eye. “You talked to Princess Celestia after we specifically decided Cookie would handle it?” “I was being fearless and honorable,” Rainbow said with a grin and a toss of her mane. Spike rolled his eyes. "We're gonna be hearing about that one for a while." Luna smiled at them, then looked back to Celestia with the same fond smile. “You’ve forgiven me far more. Let us put it in the past.” “No.” Celestia shook her head firmly. She looked around at the confused faces of the ponies. “Oh, I want to move forward, but… remember what I did, how I acted. All of you. Everypony here has proven themselves wise and honorable and loyal to Equestria, so I want each of you to remember my untrustworthiness and foolishness and know that I am not always good, or wise, or honorable myself.” Twilight smiled at her. “We know. But you’re still our friend.” Applejack gave a soft chuckle. “Besides, I dunno that we’re always good and honorable and wise, either.” Cookie smirked at a memory. “I was told once that we only need to manage it often enough to deserve one another.” Celestia looked over her shoulder at him with a smile. “I’ll try my best to do that…” “Princess…” Fluttershy spoke, looking at her with concern. “When you did… um… those things. Did you really think you needed to, to protect Equestria from Discord?” “Not right now, of course. You know Discord better than anypony, and I trust your judgement. And I should trust it as to the future...” A pained expression grew on her face. “But I-- I can’t stand the thought of watching Equestria fall. It’s my duty to Equestria and my ponies, to Cookie and the other founders, to my mother and father and Star Swirl.” “You have a mother?” Rainbow Dash asked, her muzzle wrinkled in confusion. “Princess Astra,” Luna said, nodding. “She was the alicorn of fate magic. She understood destiny; she could tell a foal’s cutie mark from birth, she had the gift of prophecy, and she always knew what must be done.” "She fell in battle when we were young. I had only had my cutie mark a year when she died and left her kingdom in my hooves. Then we were offered the crowns of Equestria not long after." Celestia sighed, her eyes downcast. "I never knew what to do. Not like Mother. Sometimes it seems I never will.” Most of the gathered ponies were looking at her with pity or concern, except for Pinkie Pie, who simply tilted her head in confusion. “Why should you?” Celestia turned to look at Pinkie with raised eyebrows. “Because it is my duty.” “I thought your duty was to protect Equestria?” Pinkie asked with the same expression. Celestia nodded. “It is.” Pinkie smiled and shook her head. “That’s not the same as knowing what to do, silly.” “Pinkie!” Rarity hissed. “You cannot call Princess Celestia ‘silly.’” “Oh, sorry! Your Silly Highness.” Rarity placed a hoof over her eyes. “I’m... not sure that’s better.” Celestia tried to stifle a giggle without much success. It brought a smile to Cookie’s face, and he gave her a nudge. “She’s right, you know.” “That I’m silly?” Celestia raised an eyebrow at him with a smirk. He nodded firmly. “Yes, and that protecting Equestria rarely seems to have anything to do with knowing how to protect Equestria.” “Yeah, we do it all the time without knowing how,” Rainbow offered. “Usually Twilight saves us from something and then rainbow lasers shoot everywhere.” Twilight smiled and shook her head. “No pony is saying you shouldn’t try to protect Equestria, Princess. Just that maybe if you don’t know how, it’s okay. Other ponies might have ideas, or find other ways.” Celestia nodded. “That’s easily said, but I never intended to push other ponies away. I never intended to hurt anypony, it just seemed to be the safest course at the time.” Her face fell to a frown and she went on softly, looking to Cookie with worried eyes. “I-- I don’t know how I can stop.” “Tellin’ ponies this is a good start,” Applejack pointed out. “We know to keep an eye on ya’ while you figure it out.” “I suppose I do need that.” Celestia sighed. “I’m sorry.” Luna walked over and positioned herself on Celestia’s other side. “There’s far more wisdom in allowing other ponies to deter your worst impulses than to battle them alone.” Cookie frowned in thought for a moment, looking from Celestia to the other ponies gathered. Finally he looked over at Luna and nodded. “An excellent point, Luna. Ladies, allow me to make a proposal--” “Ain’t it a bit soon for that?” Applejack asked uncertainly. Cookie blinked at her, then looked to Celestia at his side, feeling his cheeks warm. “I-- um-- not that kind of proposal.” He gathered himself and went on, “More of a policy proposal. Celestia, Luna, I would recommend that once a month, you make a regular visit here, if it’s agreeable to Twilight, so that Twilight and her friends might serve as your council. I think it will be far harder to manipulate six very different minds who all know they have reason to be wary, and far easier to be honest about your concerns among ponies who know your fears and will offer sympathy and compassion.” Celestia smiled at him. “I think that’s a wonderful idea.” “As do I, on one condition.” Luna looked over to him. “Cookie, I ask that you would join us as well.” Cookie nodded with a grin. “I think that could be arranged. It’s been far too long since my mettle was truly tested.” Twilight smirked at him. “So I guess this means you’re not removing yourself from the board?” “I suppose not.” Cookie chuckled. “At least now I have my choice between three intelligent and wise leaders to offer my service to.” The smirk faded to a knowing smile as she studied him, then she raised an eyebrow. “You don’t need to offer service to anypony, but you are immortal, and you do have responsibilities. You owe it to Equestria to take them seriously.” Cookie raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. “I’m always happy to offer counsel. But if you want more than that, I assure you, whatever you’re thinking, I could only possibly make a mess of it.” Twilight gave a shrug. “Well you’ve done it pretty well for two thousand years and you only messed up once, so I think you can handle it.” Her face fell to a serious line and she looked him in the eye. “Cookie, it’s your responsibility to bake for us.” He stared at her in confusion, and while there was a hint of humor in her eyes, she appeared completely serious. He looked around and his eye was drawn to Celestia’s satisfied smile, and Luna nodding in agreement. “I have seen you be many things to my sister, and I have not always been pleased with that. Yet even at my most peevish, when I would look for ponies who might better suit her, that was the one place you held that I could find no other qualified for.” “There are other bakers in the world,” Cookie protested, motioning with a hoof. “In this room, in fact.” Luna raised her eyebrows. “None that remember the tastes and smells of our youth, and the recipes and techniques to produce them. None that serve her tea in mismatched mugs and plates, and leave her to help herself. In short, none who bake for Celestia.” Pinkie rolled her eyes. “I tried to tell him that.” Cadance smiled at Cookie. “For each of us, there’s bound to come a time when we find ourselves lost. It’s important that we all know there’s a pony who doesn’t care that we’re immortal, or princesses, or have powerful magic. A pony with a warm hearth and bread and a sympathetic ear even when we’re at our lowest.” He felt Celestia’s warm wing brush his side, and she added softly, “A place where we can cry.” Cookie swallowed and looked between the alicorns, then drew himself up with a firm nod. “Very well. You have my word that my door shall always be open to each of you, and I’ll do my best to never again forget to offer the gifts of Hearth’s Warming to the ponies who need them most, and often receive them least.” “Um, excuse me,” Fluttershy said softly, “but… does that go for Discord too?” Cookie frowned and opened his mouth to refuse, but stopped short as he caught sight of the worry in her large blue eyes. He sighed, considering for a moment that this small mare might in fact be the most powerful creature he’d ever met. “Yes. I suppose we all have our burdens to bear. Though I get the impression my very existence annoys him.” He felt Celestia nudge his side and looked up to see a smirk on her face. “We all have our talents as well.” *** After Cookie’s presentation and the aftermath, the party lasted long into the night in good fellowship and cheer. None enjoyed it more than Celestia, who savored each conversation and the wonderful qualities of the ponies present as if she’d been starved and suddenly found a feast. She discussed Twilight’s friend’s amusing and exciting lives, took a moment to make clear to Twilight and Cadance and Luna how she loved and respected them, and fell into easy reparte with Cookie that felt more comfortable than drawing breath, all while enjoying plates of the delicious baked goods to her heart’s content. Through it all, she was well aware she had neglected an apology. Cookie never said a word, nor paused for a moment in his interactions with her. She considered that he might not have noticed, but thought it was more likely that he knew her too well: that the apology she owed him was deeper than any single misstep, and there were too many courses that discussion might take. Whatever his faults, Cookie respected allowing time for consideration. But eventually night turned to morning, and ponies began to excuse themselves. Celestia knew that even if it would be late in the morning, the sun would need to be raised, and she would need to be in Canterlot. Celestia said her good-byes to Twilight and Cadance and Shining Armor, and suggested to Luna they might share a chariot if she would wait for her. Then she came to Cookie. She looked down at his square jaw and shaggy mane, and his eyes with that light shining deep within them, which had been there since his presentation earlier. She smiled and said softly, “I remember there was another part to your overly generous gift?” Cookie looked at her with a vague curiosity and nodded. “Indeed. In the kitchen. Would you like me to show you where?” “Yes, please.” Celestia nodded. He led her through the castle halls to Twilight’s kitchen. It had been tidied and readied for the next day, but the room was still warm and smelled of the sweets offered at the party. Sitting on the counter was a neat white box, tied with twine. Cookie walked over to it, and Celestia joined him. They stood there in silence for a moment, looking at one another. “Here we are,” Cookie said with a vague gesture at the box. “Yes. Thank you.” Celestia nodded, but she made no move to take with box with hoof or magic. She just looked in his eyes and remembered his face as he offered her the respect and understanding and forgiveness she needed to be free. She swallowed, never looking away from him, and said cautiously, “Cookie… you have no reason to believe anything I say to you.” “Perhaps I don’t, but I offered you my trust as a gift, and I don’t make empty promises,” he said with a serious expression. “I will believe every word you say, and you may make a fool of me if you wish.” Celestia smiled, trying to calm her nerves. “I don’t see why I should. Soon enough I’ll have the pleasure of seeing Twilight sweetly rip you to shreds at the council table.” Her smile grew stronger as Cookie relaxed and smiled back. She added, “I should warn you, she’s going to bring graphs.” He chuckled. “I shall relish it.” “I know you will.” Celestia allowed herself to relax, leaning against the counter. “It’s why, even when I don’t appreciate your ideas, you’ve been the finest adviser I’ve ever had.” “Thank you,” Cookie said, still smiling fondly at her. She swallowed and added lightly, “I, on the other hoof, have proven myself a terrible failure at the job. You trusted me to hear your thoughts on your magic, to challenge them as I saw fit…” Her face fell to a frown, and she looked down at the stone floor as she went on, “And instead I manipulated you and withheld vital information because I disagreed with the conclusion you would draw. You were wise to seek a new council.” “I was fortunate to have one close at hoof, thanks to Twilight…” He paused and added softly, “And you.” Celestia glanced at him with a wry smile. “"Give that credit to the stars. My aims weren’t so noble.” “Perhaps not in aiding my council, but…” Cookie pursed his lips, considering her, then he shook his head and smiled at a thought. “You’ve done an amazing thing, Celestia, and you’ve done it in spite of your crown and duties. You’ve formed a family of immortals, where we all might help and care for each other through whatever courses the stars take.” He paused and raised an eyebrow. “It may be your greatest achievement, and the greatest strength anypony could offer to Equestria.” Celestia blinked in surprise. She had seen first hoof tonight how Luna and Twilight and Cadance might guide her and forgive her, and it only strengthened her affection for them. And now Cookie seemed to have become fond of Twilight and settled his differences with Luna and even Discord… She looked to Cookie with a smile she could feel in her heart and soul. “It’s a beautiful thing.” Cookie smirked. “It’s a worrisome, messy, frequently annoying, and always complicated thing.” His smiled softened and he chuckled. “So you should know I cherish it.” Watching him and imagining a future where she would cherish the ponies she loved, the smile slowly fell from her face. There was something still missing, something that might never be again. She knew now she could bear it, she had the strength and love of her friends, all of them, but it was only her own pride that kept her from finding out if she would have to. Drawing a deep breath, Celestia looked to Cookie. “As to the other worrisome, messy, annoying, and complicated thing, for which we both must take credit…” She swallowed and closed her eyes. “Cookie, I love you. Truly. From my heart as a pony. I walk a fine line between the pony and the crown… and in my recent actions, the crown betrayed you. I betrayed you. I’m ashamed of myself, both for that and my refusal to acknowledge it. So I understand if you don’t want to risk your trust in that manner, specifically, but know that I am truly sorry.” She felt his hoof touch her cheek. “I love you as well, Celestia. I never stopped loving you.” Daring to open her eyes, she saw him looking at her, his face open and honest with that love and his own shame as he went on, “And I also know the ways I made that betrayal too easy to justify. I’ve spent far too long hiding from nothing but my own fears, so when I saw real danger it was too easy to dismiss. I’ve insisted myself your equal since we met, so you had no reason to think of my power as something I would hold dear--” “Cookie. You are my equal.” She frowned a gentle admonishment. Cookie swallowed, a pained expression crossing his face as he shook his head. “I’m not, Celestia. I’m a pony, and I am worthy of respect in that much, and in two thousand years I’ve managed to do a few things of note. But you… you may not live up to my ideals, but you come closer than any pony I can imagine.” Celestia raised her eyebrows. “And yet, left to our own devices for only two months you’ve surrounded yourself with ponies who appreciate your talents and check your flaws, while I nearly got myself betrothed to a griffon I’ve never met.” “To protect Equestria, I assume?” Cookie asked with a knowing glance. “Of course.” She drew herself up. “A Princess must only choose the most honorable path to freeze her heart in ice.” He snorted a scoff, and she smiled as she went on, “You might feel that tending a hearth is nothing compared to tending the sun, and it’s true that most ponies manage it. But I’m afraid tending my hearth is far more complicated. At least, I hope it is, because I certainly made a mess of it.” “I think the more time one spends in the sun, the more difficult it is to tend a hearth,” he said, mulling it over. “Then you deserve the credit for that, all of these years.” Celestia offered a nod of appreciation. “Jobs that go unseen are no less vital. If I’ve come close to your ideals, it’s because I’ve had you beside me.” Cookie smiled and shook his head. “You know, I’m far less concerned with my ideals these days. There are enough blasted princesses around that you can clean up after one another.” He paused and looked at her, his smile growing fonder by the moment. “But if I can offer a hearth to warm a beautiful mare with a sharp wit who shares my dreams, I’ll admit I might be worthy of her love.” Celestia beamed and leaned forward to kiss him. As their lips touched, she could feel the warmth of that hearth through her, as simple and magical as the pony she shared this moment with. It was a part of her, and him, and Equestria, and she never wanted to be without it again. When they parted, she smiled at him with a satisfied sigh. “As to what you do going forward… I’d always welcome you at court, if you’d like to come out of retirement. I think public speaking agrees with you. Or, if you still want to travel I’d love to hear what you find.” He leaned back against the counter, grinning, his eyes never leaving her face. “I’ve been considering this these past few months, and asking the advice of my friends.” He raised an eyebrow. “They’re very wise ponies, you know.” She nodded with mock solemnity. “I do know that. So what have your friends suggested?” His grin turned sly and he gave a shrug. “Applejack suggested that if I enjoy baking and have no wish to run a business, I might ask Twilight to put in a word for me in the kitchens of Canterlot palace. I dismissed it out of hoof at the time, but now… I think it may be where I belong for the time being.” Celestia’s eyes widened and her breath caught in her chest at the thought. “Oh, Cookie…” He chuckled at her and stepped forward to nuzzle her. “From there I can keep a better eye on you, at least. And if you’d like for me to deliver honey rolls myself, and sit with you--” “Yes,” she said firmly, the grin returning to her face, even stronger this time. “You’ll visit me as much as you can without scandal.” She looked at his grin and that light in his eyes, feeling a blush warm her cheeks. “Maybe even risking a bit of scandal. It might make matters of court awkward, but I have a very good press secretary.” “Then we shall present her a challenge.” He tilted his head and kissed her again, and Celestia let her worries for Equestria fall away. The dream of Equestria was safe here in Cookie’s embrace, and it was stronger than any crown.