.
That night, Sunset and Sunrise again found themselves at the balcony, contemplating the night sky.
“Are you going to be okay?” Sunset asked.
“Sure.”
Sunset gave her a look.
Sunrise sighed, ran a hoof along her mohawk. “I guess. It’s just… it’s a lot.”
“Yeah. I remember.”
“With Celestia? Yeah, I can only imagine. Still, just dealing with Twilight on Bald Mountain…” Sunrise shook her head. “That was… wow.”
Sunset glanced at her. “Really pulled out the stops, huh?”
“Christ, I hope so.”
Sunset chuckled a little. “Yeah, I hear you.”
“Right. So, anyway, still processing.”
“That’s fair. But… okay, look, this may be prying,” Sunset said, “and if it is, say so and I’ll back off. But is that what’s really getting you?”
“Well, no,” Sunrise admitted. “And it’s not prying. Not from you. It’s just…”
She sighed again, then went on, “Twilight’s talk was all about penance and balancing scales. And I get that, I guess. But how can I make up for what I did? Even if we lived in the same world, I’m not a surgeon. And I can’t take away the nightmares she’s bound to be having.”
Sunset studied her for a moment.
“What?”
“Let me make sure I understand the problem,” Sunset said. “You’re learning unicorn magic from Princess Twilight – a process that takes years – so you can help and protect the innocent. And in the fall, you’re going to be working as an assistant teacher, guiding and guarding Ponyville’s foals.”
“And helping them not make my mistakes, I hope,” Sunrise added.
“Right. And now, you’re trying to figure out what you could do to make up for those mistakes.”
“Exactly! You’ve got to admit, I’ve kind of landed in the clover here.”
Sunset simply nodded, keeping her face as straight as possible.
“Well, I’m sure something will come up,” she said.
Sunrise rolled her eyes. “Great. Thanks.”
Sunset grinned. “I’m here for you.” And then, her face serious again, she reached over, placing her hoof on Sunset’s arm.
“Seriously,” she said. “I am here for you.”
Sunrise smiled a little, putting her own hoof on Sunset’s.
“Hey. Me, too.”
They stood, and hugged.
“You guys ever need anything,” Sunrise said into her twin’s mane, “and I mean anything…”
“…we’ll call.”
“Promise?”
Sunset squeezed a little harder. “I promise.”
.
The following morning, the Twilights had already left to get more flying in before breakfast. So, Sunset and Sunrise had decided to wander around Ponyville for a while, maybe visit Sweet Apple Acres.
But as they stepped out into the early daylight...
“SURPRIIIIISE!” Pinkie cheered, arms and rear legs splayed out as balloons burst upwards in all directions.
Sunset glanced around with huge eyes at the collection of banners, balloons, confections, and various ponies munching, talking, and enjoying themselves. The largest banner of them all, stretching across the street in front of the Castle of Friendship, read WELCOME SUNSET! in giant, friendly letters. Meanwhile, a marching band happily oom-paah’d its way back and forth in front of the castle doors, even as fireworks began to explode overhead.
“Ummmm… thanks?” Sunset managed.
“You’re welcome!” Pinkie bounced. “This is your Happy-Welcome-To-Your-Home-Away-From-Home-Sorry-About-The-Confetti party!”
“Oh,” Sunset nodded. “Sure. That makes sense.”
Sunrise looked at her. “It does?”
Sunset shrugged. “Well, I’ve had practice.”
“Oh.” Sunrise considered her brief observations of Sunset’s human friends for a moment. “Yeah, okay, I can see that.”
“Anyway,” Pinkie went on, “there’s games, puzzles, prizes, treats, and – most important of all – no confetti! I added more balloons to make up the difference,” she added with a wink.
“Why no confetti?” Sunrise asked.
“The hard part was figuring out how to fire them out of my party cannon without—oh, because of Sunset of course, silly,” Pinkie giggled. “I’d forgotten that her Pinkie’s confetti explodes on contact before.
“Which, by the way, sorry about that,” she added to Sunset. “I never meant to startle you. Not like that, anyway.”
“Oh, um, that’s okay,” said Sunset, feeling more confused by the minute.
“But Pinkie, where did you get all these balloons?” Sunrise marveled. “It’s like you filled the whole town with them.”
The three of them made their way to a confection cart hovering about a foot off the ground, wading their way through the knee-high layers of balloons filling the streets as they did. Here and there, foals and a few older ponies burrowed, jumped, rolled and played in the multi-coloured orbs as though Ponyville had become a giant ball pit.
The cart was one of several which were held off the ground by bunches of floating balloons tied to its corners. On the cart itself were trays of cupcakes and tiny pies, all shaped like balloons.
While the Sunnies were selecting munchies, Pinkie said, “Well, you have to catch them when they’re small, of course. If they’re too old, they’re almost impossible to wrangle, especially in numbers like these.”
The unicorns exchanged an amused look.
“Go on,” Sunrise said.
“Fortunately, the mother balloons are really, really stupid,” Pinkie continued, selecting an apple berry cupcake for herself. “I mean, they’re big and strong, and they’re more agile than they look, but they’re also dumb as rocks. So once you find a nest, harvesting the baby balloons is pretty easy.”
She paused, considering. “Of course, you always have to leave a few behind, to keep the species going. That’s just ecologically responsible.”
“Of course,” Sunset said dryly, looking around at the decorations.
“Really, the hardest part is keeping the young balloons under wraps until you’re ready for the party,” Pinkie nodded as she munched. “They’re really skittish. And in large numbers, if something spooks them, they’ll stampede.”
She took another bite, adding, “And believe me, if you’ve never seen a balloon stampede, you don’t wanna.”
“Right,” said Sunrise.
“Wait a minute!” Sunset’s head whipped around to stare at Pinkie Pie. “How did you know my Pinkie’s confetti explodes?”
“I thought for a while about opening up my own balloon ranch, years ago,” Pinkie mused, ignoring her. “But there were just too many complications. Not even counting the amount of land and clouds you need to graze them properly, the branding practices for an adolescent balloon are—oh, no!”
The unicorns glanced where Pinkie was pointing, and then simply stared in sheer confusion. For there, half-lumbering, half-bouncing down the street towards them, was the single largest balloon either of them had ever seen. It filled half the street, its chromatically-swirled elastic skin rippling and warping as it approached. Sometimes, it bounced off its smaller kin, other times it scattered them before its massive girth. But always, it moved along an almost straight line, its true target unmistakable.
“It’s the mother balloon!” Pinkie Pie screamed. “She found me! Run!”
While the other party-goers laughed and rolled or jumped out of the way, Pinkie Pie fled for dear life, scattering multcolored balloons in all directions. Meanwhile, the polychromatic giant behind her gave its hulking chase, bounding over Sunset and Sunrise as it did.
In a moment, Pinkie was gone, her buoyant pursuer close behind, her screams fading into the distance.
Sunrise and Sunset simply stood, still unmoving, staring in the direction where she had fled, identical expressions of bewilderment on both their faces.
“I… feel like there’s a lot to unpack, here,” Sunrise said at last.
“Uh-huh.”
“You… feel like starting in on that?”
Sunset slowly shook her head. “Not even remotely.”
.
The rest of Sunset and Twilight’s visit, while certainly not as exciting, was nonetheless well-spent.
Sometimes, the young mares paired up with their counterparts. These were frankly Sunrise’s favorite times. In many ways, it was like getting to know the sister she’d never known she’d wanted. They might spend hours wandering Canterlot. Sunset would point out various sights of the capital, talking about the history of the place and how it had changed since she’d lived there.
Sunrise, on the other hand, would take Sunset about town in Ponyville. There fewer sights to see, of course. But that also gave a kind of relaxed air to such times, and they happily wandered without much of a plan, chatting as they went.
And in all cases, Spike was always welcome. The three of them happily conversed and joked for hours at a time, occasionally hanging out with Princess Twilight’s fellow Elements as well.
The hatchling would have been welcomed by both mares regardless. But it still remained: sister or not, it was still a lot easier with other things to do, and other people around.
Meanwhile, of course, the Twilights would fly everywhere they could, following a precise and detailed itinerary to allow them to cram in as much shared knowledge, fun, and flying as efficiently as possible.
On the other hoof, sometimes the engaged couple would head out to explore and see the sights, just the two of them. This left the Castle of Friendship denizens more or less going back to their usual routines, with Twilight researching and seeing to her royal duties, Sunrise studying and practicing her magic, and Spike cooking, organizing, visiting friends - mostly Rarity - and occasionally giving Sunrise some friendly teasing while she practiced.
The rest of the time, the four of them would split up into cross-dimensional Sunny and Twilight teams. During these times, Princess Twilight and Sunset would leave the Castle of Friendship to visit various friends. Sometimes they visited Twilight’s fellow Elements, other times they spent time with the other princesses. Sunrise and Twilight Sparkle, meanwhile, would spend their time in Princess Twilight’s great library.
The first such occasion found each of them with small stacks of books, quietly reading as they reclined in opposite ends of the place, Spike contentedly puttering about as they did.
Eventually, Twilight Sparkle broke the silence.
“Hey, Sunrise,” the pegasus ventured at last. “You know, I’ve been seeing Princess Luna in my dreams a lot. By which I mean, literally every night since I got here.”
Sunrise seemed very engrossed in her book. “Mmm.”
Twilight cleared her throat a little, then said, “That’s not… usual, is it?”
The unicorn buried her muzzle deeper into her book.
“Sunrise?”
Eventually, Sunrise spoke in a quiet voice, “When I heard you were coming… I, um… sort of asked her to keep an eye out for you while you were here,” She swallowed, then went on, “I’m sorry, I know I should have cleared something like that with you first. I just…”
Her voice trailed off into silence, her face hidden by the tome’s ancient cover.
Sunrise heard the rustle of wings as Twilight rose from where she lay. Sunrise tried not to cringe as she heard the soft hooffalls approaching, and ultimately stop beside her.
“Hey?”
Sunrise looked up.
Twilight Sparkle’s smile was nervous, but genuine.
“Thank you,” she said.
Her eyes sad, Sunrise smiled back.
“Any time,” she said.
Twilight Sparkle lay down next to her, back to back. She opened her book, and continued reading. After a moment, Sunrise went back to her own book, as well.
The pain that hung between them was powerful, and wouldn’t die easily. But in the days that followed, the long periods of relaxed quiet - interspersed with the occasional word or smile - seemed to give them both a kind of reassurance. It wouldn’t be today, or tomorrow. But someday, they would heal the wounds between them.
And so the remaining days passed quickly in the Castle of Friendship. Until, all too soon, the day of the humans’ departure was upon them at last.
.
“Uuuuggghh.”
The kitchen was much smaller in the Castle of Friendship than in Canterlot Palace, its freezer therefore also of lesser size. But Princess Twilight, like her former teacher, kept it well stocked with ice cream. And with Sunrise living there, the old stockpile of specialty ice cream from generations before had been delivered shortly after Sunrise’s talk with Celestia.
Now, sitting across from Sunset in the spacious dining room, Sunrise stared.
“How can you say that?” she demanded. “This is your flavor. You loved this!”
“Sure, when I was twelve.” Sunset pushed the bowl away, still making a face. “This is all you.”
Sunrise cocked an amused eyebrow as she accepted the bowl, scraping its contents into her own. “Okay, so, what do you like now? Rocky road and ghost pepper?”
“Cherry.”
“Cherry?”
“Mm-hm. I’ll be right back.”
While Sunset rummaged in the walk-in, Sunrise continued to shake her head, mouthing the word, cherry?
Then, the door to the freezer flew open again, Sunset holding a five-gallon tub aloft.
“Victory!” she cried.
Sunrise gave a lopsided grin as her twin heaped scoops of the pink confection into her bowl, then took the first bite with a long sigh of pure bliss.
“You know, come to think of it,” Sunrise mused, “when I was a kid, I used to love cherry ice cream. It’s funny.”
Then, with a mischievous look, she recited, “But, doth not the appetite alter? A mare loves the meal in her youth that she cannot endure in her age.”
While Sunset snickered, Sunrise continued, “Shall quips and sentences and these paper arrows of the brain awe a mare from the career of her humor?”
Then both mares stood and leaned over the table to gleefully shout in unison, “No! The world must be ponied!”
After a moment of giggling, Sunset said, “We need help. Like, years of professional therapy.”
“Or at least another bowl or two,” Sunrise agreed, scooting the pink container closer to her.
“Oh,” Sunset reached for the ice cream scoop. “At least.”
.
A few minutes later, Sunrise looked around. “You know, it’s kind of quiet. Where is everypony?”
“Spike’s at Rarity’s, and the Twilights are getting in as much last-minute flying as they can before we leave.”
“More flying?” Sunrise asked. “Is she going to be able to even move tomorrow?”
“I think that’s part of the plan,” Sunset observed. “She’s curious as to whether she spontaneously developed new muscle mass when she got wings, or just enlarged and polymorphed old sets of muscles to additional tasks.”
“So, if she has muscle pains corresponding to her wing strain, she knows her previously existing muscular structure was adapted?” Sunrise shook her head. “Man, what she’ll do for science.”
“Well, I think it’s also an excuse to fly more.”
“Yeah,” Sunrise nodded sagely. “No blame.”
After a few moments of contemplation, Sunrise said, “I have a potentially awkward question.”
“Okay.”
Sunrise swallowed another bite, then asked, “Did you set me up for the talk with Twilight on purpose?”
Sunset started to reply, and then stopped, thinking.
“I mean, I’m not mad,” Sunrise assured her. “But I’ve been meaning to bring this up for a while, you know? You did kind of steer the discussion towards history, and then…”
Uncomfortable, Sunset nodded. “Yeah, um…” she looked away. “Maybe? I mean, I’m… not completely sure.”
She leaned her chin on her hoof, contemplating another spoonful of ice cream.
“I certainly could have. I used to push people’s buttons all the time. Not something I’m proud of, but there it is.” She sighed. “So… yeah, maybe. And if I did, I’m really sorry.”
Sunrise shook her head. “It’s okay, I get it. I used to hustle all the time. But I didn’t want us to part ways without talking about this. Because looking back, I think I might have done the same thing.”
Sunset looked at her quizzically for a moment, then frowned. “You mean, when you sent the message?”
“Yeah. At the time, it just seemed the right thing to do. But then I started thinking, what did I think you would do? What was I expecting to happen? And then I started wondering…”
“…how much was my right to know, and how much was just bad habits?” Sunset nodded. “Yeah. I get that. But at the same time, you weren’t trying to play me. And it’s not like you got anything out of it.”
Sunrise gave her a fond smile. “Well, I kind of did.”
Sunset returned the smile. “Well, okay, me too. But you know what I mean.”
“Yeah.”
“So, I guess in the future we’ll just have to be more careful,” Sunset considered. “It is something to watch out for, so that we don’t keep doing it. But all in all, good things came from it – at least this time – and we meant well, so… no harm, no foul?”
Sunrise thought, then nodded. “I think so. At least, I’m good if you are.”
“I’m good. So, friends?”
“Yeah. Friends.”
Sunset took another bite, then held up her bowl. “Works in progress?”
Grinning despite herself, Sunrise clinked her bowl against Sunset’s.
“Works in progress.”