Twilight read back over the letter once more. She lost herself in thought for a moment, sucking on the end of the quill, before dipping it in the ink pot and floating it down to the waiting sheet of parchment.
Dear Meridian,
Twilight took a deep breath and popped a kink in her neck, looking back over the letter again. “You know,” she muttered under her breath, “yesterday I remembered how I answered you, Meridian. I told you a lot of things in a really nice way, and when you wrote back to me next week, you told me thank you and that it really helped … but you never told me whether you asked Nebula out on a date or not.”
She smiled ruefully at the letter, with its scratchy hornwriting, small and rushed, like Meridian had willed herself to get through writing everything out. “I don’t know if that was because you decided not to ask, or if you asked and she said no. Or if she said yes, and you’re just too private a pony to tell me. If I knew which one it was, I’d know exactly what to write now, because I can’t remember what I told you in my memories anymore.”
Twilight let out a long breath and dipped the feather back in her ink pot. “Maybe it’s better this way.” She sat up straight, rubbed her face, and set her quill to work.
Thank you for writing to me. I know what you’re going through is hard, and I know how lonely it can feel, when you’re holding onto something like that and are worried about bringing it out in the open. I’ve been through something similar. I spent a very long time worrying about how things might change if I ever said anything to
Twilight stared at the paper for a moment with the pen hovering just above the surface. She kept writing.
her, both for the worse, but also for the better. Part of me was ready to never act on it and let things be, and I could just be content with her in my life as a friend. And that was enough for a while.
Not everypony knows this about me, but when I was your age, I didn’t have very many friends. I was that filly who always sat in the front row, always answered all of the questions first, and always walked from class to class with a book in front of my face. The few friends that I had didn’t know me very well, because I never really let them get to know me. It’s something I came to regret about myself later.
The reason I’m telling you about that is so you know how strongly I wanted to hold onto the friends I eventually did make, the ones who are so important to me I’d die for them, and how worried and scared I was about losing them. How scared I am about losing them. And how it was enough for me to just have her in my life, if it meant not risking anything.
But while it might have been enough, it was hurting me inside to hold onto it. As time went on, it seemed to get bigger and scarier, and harder for me to imagine acting upon. And it was joined by a new fear that I might never get around to acting upon it at all before I never had the chance to.
I can’t tell you how Nebula Glow feels. I don’t know how she’d react to you telling her how you feel. I can’t promise you that she’d take it well, or that asking her won’t make things awkward for a while regardless of what she says. What I can tell you is that after holding it inside me for a long time, I felt so much relief to finally say it out loud to her, and regardless of how she reacted, I was better off having done it. Holding it all inside trapped me, keeping me from either growing closer to her, or moving on and growing as a pony. Being trapped felt like it could be “enough.” But the truth is, it wasn’t, and I was slowly withering. I couldn’t see that until afterwards.
I don’t know how things will go if you decide to tell Nebula, too. I don’t have a personal story to relate to you about what could or couldn’t happen, because I’m still living through my story. I hope the best for you regardless of what you decide to do. Nebula is lucky to have a friend who cares for her so deeply.
Yours truly,
Princess Twilight Sparkle
Twilight looked over her writing as the ink dried. Before rolling it up, she dipped the quill one last time.
P.S. If you decide to tell her, try not to do it with a big crowd of ponies watching. Trust me.
She pushed herself away from the desk and stretched out her back, then stepped down from her chair and stretched in the opposite direction. She let out a sigh of relaxation and headed out of her study. Her hoof clacks echoed through the empty castle as she let her mind wander over the letter, then over the day before and the magical memories stretching forward into the future. Most of them were just as clear and sharp as when she’d shared the True Love’s Kiss with Applejack, but almost everything that supposedly had happened between the kiss and that exact moment, feeling the blood pump back into her legs as she walked through the hallways, had turned into a blur, like the faint outlines of pencil erased from a page.
Maybe that meant the rest would start to fade with time, too, and all she’d be left with were Applejack’s memories. She could deal with having Applejack’s memories. She pushed open the door and felt the sun fall over her mane. She took in a deep breath of the fresh air and smiled as she left, taking a stroll just as aimless as her thoughts. She could deal with Applejack’s memories. She wasn’t sure she could deal with the future memories, though, if that meant them staying sharp and fresh until they didn’t happen, only to then be erased, like she was lowering a tapestry inch by inch into a fire. If they’d all just fade at once, she’d be content, left with just an echo of a happy life that didn’t happen. The memory of the memory.
Or maybe the first day had been a blur from the attunement itself, and she’d keep the rest of the memories. Maybe it could really be like an extra fifty years. She could deal with an extra fifty years, too.
“Be nice to know which,” she grumbled to herself. “It’s really hard to try and plan for one thing when the other might—”
A shrill voice carried on the wind cut through her musing. “Yes huh, it totally means that!”
Twilight stopped short and looked around. She’d zigged and zagged through town and ended up back at the park. She smirked at herself, then snapped back to the sound of a scoff. “I does not!” Apple Bloom gave Diamond Tiara a sour look as they walked up the path that led off to the ice cream vendor.
Diamond Tiara perked up when she locked eyes with Twilight, then tapped Apple Bloom on the shoulder. “We can ask Twilight, she’ll know for sure.”
Diamond rushed over and Twilight raised an eyebrow, because Apple Bloom froze in her tracks, looking stricken. She grimaced at Diamond Tiara, and stammered out, “N-no, don’t be askin’ her, it ain’t pol—”
“Tell her,” Diamond Tiara said loudly over Apple Bloom, raising her snout in the air. “That if you marry Applejack, that would make Applejack a princess, too!”
Apple Bloom cringed, and looked at Twilight from the corner of her eye. “Diamond! You ain’t supposed to ask ponies stuff like that!”
“Ugh, what’s the big deal? What, is it embarrassing? It’s not like I’m telling her to marry your sister now, she can marry her when she wants to!”
Apple Bloom’s face reddened, and she mouthed ‘sorry’ at Twilight.
Twilight chuckled and rubbed her face with a hoof. “I deserve this,” she whispered.
“Ya still don’t ask questions like that, Diamond Tiara! It ain’t good manners!”
Diamond Tiara rolled her eyes. “Ugh, good manners. If everypony was always so worried about manners, then nopony would ask anypony anything! What could possibly be bad about asking Twilight what it would mean when she marries your sister?”
Twilight scrunched her eyes tight and fought to keep from laughing. She could hear Apple Bloom’s teeth grinding together.
“If Twilight marries my sister, which she don’t have to, it’d be a long time from now. Ponies who lllllll—” Apple Bloom’s tone wavered in the middle of the held sound, then grew chipper and sped up all at once “—like each other a whole bunch wait and decide to get married after they’ve been together a long while. She don’t wanna be thinkin’ about it right now at all, it’s embarrassin’!”
Twilight cleared her throat sharply before Diamond Tiara could cut in again and made a mental note to compliment Applejack on instilling a good set of manners in her sister. Applejack was definitely the one who deserved credit for it. Twilight remembered her doing it. “It’s okay, Apple Bloom, I don’t mind the question.”
Apple Bloom blinked in surprise and gave Twilight a guarded, skeptical look. “Really?”
“Yes.” She flashed an indulgent smile at her, then turned to Diamond Tiara. “If I were to marry anypony, they would have the choice to take an official title, if they wanted to. Marrying a princess traditionally comes with the title of duke. Or duchess, in this case.”
Diamond Tiara wrinkled her muzzle. “Duchess? Why duchess? Shouldn’t it be prince or princess?”
Twilight shook her head. “Being a prince or princess is hereditary. Or … genetic, anyway.” She unfolded her wings for emphasis. “You’re either born with the title, or receive it through extraordinary circumstances, not through marriage. Any children we might have would be either a prince or princess.” Twilight knit her brow and frowned. “Of course, in this case, the logistics of that might prove complicated.”
She glanced at Apple Bloom, who was staring at her in abject horror. “… You sure you’re okay?”
“Really, I’m fine,” she giggled. “We’re talking in hypotheticals, Apple Bloom.” She kept her self from adding ‘sort of.’
Diamond Tiara let out a chuff through her snout. “Well that’s disappointing, what’s the point of marrying a princess, then?” She blinked and looked sidelong at Twilight. “I mean, no offense.” She looked back at Apple Bloom. “And I guess being a duchess is pretty cool, that’s a type of royalty still! So I was right!”
The preoccupation left Apple Bloom’s expression, and she harrumphed at Diamond. “I guess, but Twilight said you don’t gotta take a title or whatever. I betcha my sister wouldn’t wanna be a duchess’a nothin’ and say no.”
Scoffing, Diamond looked back to Twilight. “What do you think, would Applejack say no?” Apple Bloom twitched like she was on the verge of an aneurysm.
“You know, it never came up.” She glanced back and forth at their bewildered expressions. “Erm, the truth is I don’t know what she’d say. This town is very important to her as it is, and Ponyville would likely be the land her title would be attached to, I’d think she’d be honored to look after it. On the other hoof, she’s very humble and might feel conflicted about taking a title on principle. I could see her making either decision.”
Twilight’s expression slowly slid into a neutral line. She could imagine Applejack making either choice, and despite the years of memories filled with the tiniest details, she couldn’t recall anything related to Duchess Applejack or definitely not Duchess Applejack at any point in time through the whole other life. And it couldn’t have been that it never came up, something like that had to come up.
“… Maybe not with everything, but all the important things …” she muttered to herself.
Diamond’s mouth opened and closed a few times in confusion, then she shook her head and turned to Apple Bloom. “This is a weird conversation, anyway. I just thought it was cool, and that you should be excited.” She huffed. “Ugh, and now I’m late, too.” She looked at Twilight, smiled politely, and said, “Thank you for answering my question, Princess Twilight,” in a rehearsed monotone, then turned and walked back into the park.
Apple Bloom let out a deflating breath and shook her head. “I’m real sorry, Twilight, I kept tellin’ her …”
Twilight giggled and shook her head. “It really is okay.”
“Like … really okay, okay, or okay like how ponies sometimes say when it ain’t okay, but don’t want you to feel bad ‘cause they ain’t blamin’ you for it.”
She laughed harder and sat down on the ground. “You have a lot in common with your sister, you know. You’re both very perceptive. And blunt.”
Apple Bloom perked up and smiled. “Thanks!” She pawed the ground. “Uh … even if it is okay, I’m still awful sorry. It ain’t any’a my business one way or the other, and I don’t wanna be stickin’ my snout in my sister’s lllll—like a lot life.”
Twilight nodded. “I appreciate that.” She cocked her head to the side and smiled at Apple Bloom. “But it is your business a little bit.”
“Huh?”
“I mean, obviously you’re right, but I hope that you don’t mind me dating your sister.”
“Are you kiddin’? ‘Course not!” Apple Bloom blinked and she shrunk into her shoulders with a look of chagrin. “I mean, I don’t see why I wouldn’t …”
Twilight smiled warmly at Apple Bloom, then froze as realization splashed over her. She’d always been perfectly fond of Apple Bloom, but she was looking at her with the eyes of a pony who had watched her grow up into such a well-mannered, thoughtful, self-assured young mare, and was bursting with sisterly pride. A pang of guilt tried to worm its way into her head, but the thought of Applejack hugging her close and whispering thanks into her ear killed that guilt on the spot.
Twilight cleared her throat. “I’m glad. And I hope it stays that way, I wouldn’t want you angry at me.”
Apple Bloom straightened up and rocked her weight back and forth from one set of legs to the other. “I dunno what I’d have to be cross with you over, ‘less you hurt my sister.” She frowned. “And I’d guess if that happened, you’d be hurtin’ an awful lot, too, so I still couldn’t be too mad.” She brightened. “Really, if you and Applejack’re happy, then I’m happy.”
Twilight nodded. “That sounds good.”
A beat of silence filled the air, and Apple Bloom shuffled her hooves. “… Umm …” She straightened, then glanced up at the sky, taking in the position of the sun. “Speakin’a bein’ late, I’m s’posed to meet Applejack soon. We’re havin’ lunch with Grand-père Pear.”
“I know, Applejack told me about that.” Her smile felt strained. “I won’t keep you, have a good time!” She resisted the urge to give Apple Bloom a hug and say how happy she was that Grand Pear was around, and how proud she was of Apple Bloom. She limited herself to a little wave.
“Bye, Twilight!” Apple Bloom grinned and waved, then trotted off into town at a fast clip.
She let out a long sigh, then turned around and started walking back into town, away from the park. Building up a relationship with Apple Bloom that matched the one she already felt in her heart would be something to work on. Big Macintosh and Granny, too. Maybe even Grand Pear. Applejack didn’t have any memories of him to share, but if he had stories about Pear Butter, Twilight was dying to hear them. But at the moment, all she was to them was one of Applejack’s friends. She imagined Applejack would have good advice to give on the subject.
She let her mind wander again as she walked, over plans for building a connection with the ponies she knew so well in her head, over helping Applejack do the same with Shining Armor if she wanted, and over the subject of duchesshoods, taken, not taken, and left undecided. As she pushed open the castle door, she realized none of her thoughts were concerned over how real the future memories were or not, nor how to go about deciding definitively how real they were. While she went back to her study, read over her letter again, and sealed it to be mailed, she decided she didn’t really care if they were real or not, anyway. All she could do was see what the future would bring, and then go from there.
Maybe it was better that way.