.
It was a nice night out.
Still hot, of course. But the late night breeze felt wonderful along her coat, and played with her mane a little as it went by. Sunrise Shimmer smiled as she closed her eyes, basking in the moment. The pegasi who planned out the weather had certainly made the last few days great for flying, as the human Twilight had noted. Meanwhile, the nights had been great for long walks. Or, as in her case, just hanging out on a crystal balcony, thinking.
She looked out at the shadows of the clouds above, drifting gently. Of course, with most of the weather control being done in Cloudsdale, the butterfly effect would demand that what pegasi did here dictated the rest of the world’s meteorology. She wondered for a moment if that was part of the Weather Bureau’s job, accounting for all that. And did they make their calculations by some magical scrying process, or did they use some kind of hyper-advanced mathematics? Or, maybe, did the ponies not worry about it at all, and just let the rest of the world fend for itself?
Sunrise snorted. Yeah, like Luna and Celestia would stand for that. Granted, they probably hadn’t bothered, back in the First Era when Discord had just fallen. That would account for some of the wastelands she’d read about. And maybe some of the modern-day resentment Equestria still suffered from faraway lands. But they also wouldn’t have known back then, either.
Besides, if the pegasi weren’t concerned with their weather affecting the rest of the world, why did Equstria have bad weather days at all?
Best to ask Rainbow Dash about it, she decided. She’d been wanting to get to know Twilight’s other friends better, anyway.
Behind her, a door opened, and a familiar set of hoofsteps stopped halfway through.
“Sorry,” Sunset said.
“No, you’re cool.”
“You sure?”
“Uh-huh.”
The door closed, and a few seconds later Sunset stood beside her, both of them looking out at the sky, their forelegs crossed on the balcony’s ornate railing.
After a few awkward moments, they both sighed in unison.
“This is easier with other ponies around,” Sunrise said.
“Yeah.”
More silence.
Finally, Sunrise spoke again. “How’s she doing?”
Sunset stole a cautious glance at the human-born mare. “Asleep,” she said.
Sunrise’s voice was quiet. “You know what I mean.”
Sunset sighed again, then spoke out into the nighttime air.
“There’s still intestinal scarring,” she admitted. “She’s supposed to stay on a low-fiber diet, and that keeps the pain down. But every now and then, like tonight, she cheats.”
With a helpless shrug, Sunset went on, “Of course, on this side of the mirror, she doesn’t have too many options. We didn’t think about that before we came over. She was sure paying for it before bed tonight.”
Sunrise’s voice was strained as she asked, “Is there anything that can be done?”
“She’s got surgery in a couple of months. That might help. Granted, there’s always risk of that same surgery causing abdominal adhesion, which lands us right back where we were. But she’s done more research than I have, and she figures the odds are good.”
While Sunset had been speaking, Sunrise had lowered her head, chin resting on her crossed arms. Now she remained thus, motionless, her entire body taut as piano wire.
After several moments of silence, Sunset spoke.
“Sunrise?”
When her twin remained still, Sunset gently reached out to her, only to have the other mare flinch away.
“I’m sorry,” Sunset said. “But you did ask. Are… you going to be okay?”
Sunrise gave a noncommittal shrug.
“Sunrise?”
Silence.
“Hey... are we still cool?”
Sunrise gave a bitter laugh that stabbed into her.
“Yeah, we’re still cool,” Sunrise said, still turned away. “You could shoot me in the face and we’d still be cool.”
“Yeah, but I… oh, God dammit,” Sunset sighed, running a hoof through her mane. “Look, I really want to say something comforting…”
“…but there isn’t anything to say,” Sunrise finished for her. “Yeah, I get that. I mean, what are you supposed to say? That it wasn’t my fault? That you don’t blame me?”
“Yeah, well,” Sunset admitted. “So far we’ve been pretty straight with each other.”
“No sense lying now,” Sunrise agreed.
“Right. But remember, Twilight’s forgiven you. She forgave you back before you left.”
Silence.
“And so did I.”
Slowly, Sunrise raised her head, staring into the dark clouds above. When she spoke, her eyes were dry, her voice was clear and controlled, betraying genuine confusion.
“How can you be like this?”
Sunset opened her mouth to answer, then closed it.
“You should hate me,” Sunrise went on. “God knows you’ve got every right.” She shook her head. “I don’t get it. How can you just stand there and say it’s okay?”
“No, it’s not okay. That’s not what I’m saying,” Sunset said. She put her hoof on Sunrise’s shoulder, and this time the other mare did not flinch away.
“We’re all, all three of us, still coping with everything that’s happened. And you and I are both coping with what we’ve done. But that doesn’t mean…”
Then she stopped, studying her otherworldly counterpart with renewed understanding.
“That’s right,” she whispered. “You weren’t born here. I almost forgot.”
At last, Sunrise turned to face her, brow creased with confusion.
“What are you talking about?” she asked.
“It’s complicated,” Sunset said. “And it’s really not my place to, I mean... it’s...”
She made a frustrated noise, then grabbed Sunrise by the shoulders.
“Look,” she said, “just promise me you’ll still be here tomorrow! Okay?”
“What?”
Then, looking at Sunset’s intense expression, Sunrise nodded in bewilderment.
“Yeah. I promise,” she said.
Sunset released her. “Thank you,” she said earnestly.
“Confused as hell, but I’ll be here.”
Sunset gave a slight smile. “Yeah, well. Welcome to Ponyville.”
Sunrise’s mouth quirked a little, as well. “Yeah. I got that, actually.”
After a moment, Sunset asked, “So. See you at breakfast?”
“I don’t know. I might be up for a while.”
“Sure.”
As Sunset turned to leave, Sunrise said, “Hey, Sunny?”
Sunset turned to face Sunrise again. The other mare was smiling now, though her eyes were still sad.
“Thanks for not sugar-coating it,” Sunrise said.
Returning the smile, Sunset winked.
“Not my style,” she said.
Sunrise gave herself a few minutes after Sunset had left. Then she concentrated, focusing her thoughts outward as best she could.
Hey, Honey?
There was the briefest of pauses, and Sunrise felt herself enveloped in the invisible warmth of her marefriend’s thoughts.
**Yes, Dear Heart?** There was a contemplative pause, and then, **Something saddens thee, I think?**
Yeah. It’s nothing new, but I’m going to be chewing on it for a while. I hate to say this, but I don’t think I’m going to be up for dating tonight.
**I understand.**
Sorry.
**Nay, my love. Truly, I understand well the need for solitude. Take whatever time thou needs. I ask only that thou tells me if there is some way that I might help.**
Sunrise smiled, her heart lightening despite its burdens. I will. Love you.
**And I thee.**
There was another moment of warmth, as though wings formed from the summer shadows held her in their gentle embrace. Then the connection faded, leaving Sunrise alone in the soothing darkness of night.