//------------------------------//
// Laws of Variation 
// Story: Endless Forms Most Beautiful 
// by Undome Tinwe 
//------------------------------//

"Morning, Twilight. Happy Hearth's Warming."

"Happy Hearth's Warming, Spike." Princess Twilight Sparkle smiled as she stretched out on her bed. "So, what do you want to do first?" She turned towards the window, where her oldest royal advisor and friendship ambassador had stuck his head in.

"What do you think I wanna do first?" He rolled his giant eyes at her as he spoke.

"You're over three hundred years old now." The smile never left Twilight's face as she climbed out of bed and padded over towards the washroom to freshen up for the day. "One would think you'd have learned the value of patience by now."

"I'm also a dragon," Spike pointed out. "We don't really do 'patience,' especially when there's gifts to be opened. Besides, I know how much you like doing it too."

Twilight let out an exaggerated sigh. "You got me." She quickly brushed her teeth and washed her face. "So, any news about Fluttershy?"

Spike shook her head. "Nothing yet, but she'll be here. She hasn't missed Hearth's Warming since that time she went swimming for a year, and I just heard a report of a bunch of beavers helping out when the Neighagara Dam burst last week."

"Alright, we'll just have to remember to keep the gate open." As was tradition, Twilight had no appointments on Hearth's Warming, which meant that she could forgo most of her normal morning routine and even leave her regalia behind as she took wing and flew out the window, where Spike was waiting for her outside in the courtyard.

A tree that extended upwards as tall as the dragon stood proud in the middle of said courtyard, wearing a plethora of ornaments and lights that had been affixed to it in the past week. The rest of the palace staff would have their celebrations here in the afternoon while Twilight occupied herself elsewhere.

It pained her that she couldn't attend those parties, but she knew very well the effect her presence had on ponies, and it was better if she let them celebrate without fear of disappointing or angering her. Better for the overall morale of the staff, her studies over the centuries had shown.

For the morning, though, Twilight and Spike had the tree all to themselves. "So, whose presents do you want to open first?" she asked, alighting between Spike's tail and the two lone boxes under the tree resting a short distance from all the others.

Twilight and Spike would open their other presents in time, usually the day after Hearth's Warming, but today was for the two of them, for the two oldest beings still living in Canterlot.

"Let's open yours first," Spike said. "I wanna see your reaction." Even after all these centuries, his voice still carried that young eagerness and desire to make his mother figure happy.

"Alright." Twilight stared the box in front of her that was almost as large as she'd been when she'd first ascended. Still, that wasn't any indication of what might be inside — Spike had been known to obscure the contents of a gift by using a container of unreasonable size. "Let's see what you have for—"

A rabbit hopped through the gate and into the yard. "She's here!" Spike exclaimed, cutting Twilight short as they turned to stare at the newcomer. A moment later, a second rabbit followed it. And then a third, and a fourth, until a small bushel stood before the two larger occupants of the courtyard, all staring up at them with the rabbit equivalent of smiles on their faces.

Up in the air, a flock of birds alighted around the rabbits, led by a parrot who stood at the tip of the V-formation they had landed in. The parrot opened its beak, letting out a Ponish-sounding squawk. "Hello, Twilight!" it said. "Hello, Spike! Happy Hearth's Warming!"

Twilight smiled. "Hello, Fluttershy. Happy Hearth's Warming to you too." She waited for one of the rabbits to hop closer to her, and then picked it up in a hug. "It's good to see you again." From the corner of her eye, she saw another rabbit hugging one of Spike's claw-tips.

The parrot squawked again. "It's good to see you too. I'm sorry I'm late, but it took me a while to find enough animals that were coming to Canterlot."

"That's fine," Spike replied. "You didn't miss much anyways. Twilight and I were just about to open each others' gifts."

"Oh!" The parrot squawked as, in the back, a falcon flapped its way over to them, carrying a small gift-wrapped box in its talons. "I got you something, Twilight. You too, Spike." A rabbit hopped forward towards the dragon, and Twilight noticed that it was clutching a scroll in its mouth.

"Thanks, Fluttershy," Twilight said warmly to the falcon as she gently took the box from it with her magic. "Spike and I got you something too. It's back in the palace, but I can show you later."

"Open it, open it!" A ripple seemed to pass over the crowd of animals as they all started hopping about and flapping their wings excitedly. A moment later, the activity ceased, and Twilight felt the projected sensation of sheepish embarrassment. "Oh, sorry. Positive feedback loop from the excitement."

"It's fine." Twilight carefully unwrapped the present, opening the box and peering inside. Her breath caught in her throat. "Is this—?"

"Harriet found it inside a cave she was hibernating in near Appleloosa City, and I thought you might appreciate it."

Twilight picked up the thin, circular band of jewel-encrusted silver, studying the patterns etched into the metal. "This has to be Meadowbrook's Diadem. Which means that we have seven out of eight of her enchanted artifacts. I'll need to test this later to see if it still grants the ability to see miasmas. If it does, then that could tell us a lot about the rate of degradation of pre-Equestrian spellform matrix designs, which is really hard to study on account of how few artifacts from that time period we have." She'd definitely need to find time in her schedule to fit in this study, and get to work creating a new pseudonym to publish under.

"I'm glad you like it."

"It's a great gift." Twilight stared the parrot in the eyes as she spoke, hoping it would be able to see the depths of her gratitude. "Thank you."

Meanwhile, on her right, Spike had unfurled the scroll given to him and was peering at it with furrowed brows. "This is a map of... the Inner Badlands? What're these coordinates?"

"I found a cave there during a flyover." All the birds flapped their wings in synchrony during the explanation. "There's a lava bath inside, and vein of sapphires in the walls. If you need to take a break, it could be a good vacation spot for you."

"Wow, that's amazing!" Spike grinned widely as he lightly breathed over the scroll, consuming it in green fire and sending it back to his home cave. "Thanks so much, Fluttershy!"

"It was my pleasure."

After that, it was time for Twilight and Spike to finish their gift exchange while their guests scattered about the courtyard, with various groups alternating between watching them and going about their usual frolicking, playing, and the occasional preening session.

Gift-giving had become a bit more difficult after a few hundred years, especially between beings who could possess most material things they wanted with little effort, and whose true desires generally required using dark magic to control time or minds. Sometimes, as with Fluttershy, one of them found something truly remarkable to give, but for the most part, they only shared simple presents and enjoyed the mutual gift of simulated normalcy.

Thus, Twilight had gotten Spike an auto-sizing signet ring so that he didn't have to keep getting new ones made every time he grew again, and Spike had gotten her a scarf patterned after the cutie marks of the Original Bearers — he'd taken up knitting in order to keep his delicate motor functions sharp as he grew.

It was a pleasant gift exchange, and afterwards, Twilight suggested that they head into the Great Hall for breakfast. Along the way, they were greeted by two of the palace dogs, who joined in the crowd of animals following behind Twilight and Spike. In response, a few of the rabbits broke off from the group and scattered out into the Canterlot winter, heading towards the garden.

In the Great Hall, their meal was already waiting for them on the table under a stasis spell — Twilight refused to give more work than necessary to the palace staff today, so all their food for today had been prepared prior and preserved. "Should we be expecting any more carnivores?" Twilight asked as she began dispelling the spells on the food.

"Mister and Misses Otterly might be coming over." It was a different parrot talking this time — the first one appeared to be resting in the back with a falcon and an osprey, surreptitiously preening its wings. "And Tilly the Tiger should be here in a couple minutes."

"Alright." Twilight made a point of unfreezing a couple extra fish and some meat for their future guests. She placed down a plate of fruits and crackers for herself on the dining table, and a pile of gems for Spike at the end of the table.

Then, she spread out a collection of seeds and raw meat on the rest of the table, careful to keep the meat separated from everything else (and as far away from herself as possible). Finally, she poured some dog food into a couple bowls on the ground and laid out a smorgasbord of vegetables for the rabbits.

The animals all politely waited for Twilight to sit down and pick up a strawberry before digging into their own meals in a polite and reserved fashion, calmly pecking or nibbling at their food without any fear of it running out or being taken away from them.

"So!" Twilight chirped happily as they ate. "How have you been doing lately? I don't think we've had the chance to catch up since the opening ceremonies for the Whitetail Preserve."

"I've been spending most of my time on the frontier making sure the settlement efforts have been respecting the conservation laws."

"We got some reports of that from the new settlements," Twilight said. "It's great that you're helping ponies out there, and we've been working to make sure that you get seen as sort of like a guardian spirit so that they'll be more willing to accept your help."

A few of the animals shifted around, looking uncomfortable. "Oh, well, if it lets me help ponies, I guess."

"So that's why you were in New Baltimore when that storm hit a couple months ago, I guess?" Twilight asked. "Thanks for the save there, by the way," she added, "we didn't realize we didn't have a proper manual weather team allocated in that region until after it blew over."

"It's no trouble." There was a pause as the parrot bent over to pick at the seeds by its feet. In the back, Twilight was vaguely aware of a tiger from the palace reserve padding in and taking a seat by the meat. "The poor settler ponies weren't used to handling the weather without an Atmospheric Regulator, and when theirs broke down I just knew that I had to help. I'm just glad that the ponies weren't too scared of a parasprite swarm trying to talk to them."

"Heh, I'd have liked to see that," Spike commented with a smirk as he munched on a clawful of assorted gems. "At least you got to supervise all the ponies at the same time, huh? Must help a lot trying to coordinate those cloud-busting maneuvers when you've got your consciousness spread out over a couple thousand of those things."

"I only had them use the basics, since I didn't remember the more advanced technique." A pair of rabbits looked up at Spike, smiling. "Rainbow would probably be really embarrassed at how inefficient I was being."

"She'd be proud of you for taking charge, though," Twilight replied. "Speaking of taking charge..."

"No!" The loud squawk echoed through the halls, managing to startle the animals into a panicked frenzy as they ran and flew around the room in a maelstrom of claw, feathers, and fur. Twilight flinched and instinctively began conjuring a shield around herself, memories from two hundred years ago flashing across her mind.

She held herself back, however, and forced herself to wait until Fluttershy managed to regain control of themselves. "Sorry," the parrot squawked in a softer voice. "But no. My answer is still the same."

"You could do a lot with your abilities," Twilight said, carefully pressing the point. "Just think of all the ponies you can help as an official representative of the Crown."

"I already help ponies when I can," was the reply. "And if you really need me — if something really big happens, I'll be there." All of the animals were resolutely looking away from Twilight, a few sparrows taking flight and leaving the breakfast as a pair of otters walked in and began eating without acknowledging her. "Besides, you know I can't stay in one place for too long. The animals of Equestria have been kind enough to let me impose my consciousness on them, but it wouldn't be right to force any one group of them to give up their lives for me full-time."

Twilight smiled triumphantly. "I think I can help with that." She lit up her horn and prepared a remote teleportation spell, taking a moment to make sure she was locked onto the right target. "I was going to show you later, but I guess I might as well bring out your gift now."

With a flash of magic, Twilight summoned up a large box nearly the same size as herself. "Happy Hearth's Warming, Fluttershy."

The two dogs ran up to the box, sniffing suspiciously at it and pawing at its smooth sides. A falcon flew up to the ribbon at the top and began pecking uselessly at it.

"Oh, right." Twilight lit her horn again and undid the bow. "I forgot about that. You might want to move away for a bit." She lifted the top of the box, allowing its sides to fall over without support and revealing the present within. "I was going to add the aesthetic details afterwards based on what you wanted."

Dozens upon dozens of eyes of all shapes and sizes stared at the pony-shaped construct made of metal and crystal. "Umm... what is that?"

"It's a prototype I've been working on in the thaumotronics labs at Canterlot University in my spare time," Twilight said proudly. "This is a semi-autonomous metallocrystal simulacrum with a synthetic anima shell connected to a neural interface."

Synchronized blinking from a variety of blank looks greeted her explanation, and Twilight sighed. "It's a pony-shaped construct with a magical lattice inside that can house a consciousness. That consciousness can also control the construct, which has a full range of pony-like motion and a voice modulator that I've already tuned to your old voice.

"Now you can stay in Canterlot without having to worry about hosting your presence! And the ponies already love you, since we've been working the PR to show off all the great things you've already done!" There was a moment of silence, and Twilight's grin grew wider. Now that Fluttershy knew what Twilight had been working on, she'd finally have her on board.

The room exploded with activity. The rabbits, small birds, and other prey animals all acted as if they'd finally noticed they'd been sharing a room with several apex predators, and made a break for every exit except the one that was actually open, resulting in several soft thuds as heads bashed against glass over and over again, accompanied by the cacophonic cries of terror each animal emitted.

Meanwhile, the predators didn't even react to the sudden movements, their eyes all focused on Twilight with, well, predatory intent. Surrounded by snarling tigers and dogs and screeching birds of prey, Twilight was instinctually reminded that ponies had spent much of pre-history being hunted by creatures such as these.

"No! You can't make me!" Both parrots were screeching the words in unison now. "I won't let you cage me!" The predators approached menacingly, their steps silent in comparison to the chaos going on behind them.

"Fluttershy!" Twilight's voice nearly faltered, but her royal instincts kicked in and kept her sounding imperious even as her mind still reeled with panic. "Please, I'm trying to help you!"

"No you aren't!" They were circling now, and Twilight could tell they were looking for a weak spot to strike. "No cages no ponies no cages no ponies no cages no ponies!"

This was bad. This was very very bad. Twilight hadn't seen Fluttershy lose control like this since some very dark times. She tried to remember what she had said those times to calm her down. "Please, you don't want to hurt your friends, do you?"

"Not my friends not my friends need to defend myself need to protect need to destroy bad pony need to rip tear bite scratch rend devour..."

The predators tensed, the back legs of the ground-bound animals coiling as they prepared to strike. Twilight lit up her horn and prepared to cast a shield around herself. She could hold out for a very long time, but with Fluttershy like this, she couldn't be sure that some innocent bystanders wouldn't be hurt. She really, really didn't want to hurt any of the animals, but she knew where her priorities lay. Maybe she'd try a sleeping spell first, assuming Fluttershy's consciousness didn't override it...

"Stop!"

The deafening roar shook the room with its ferocity, and every single creature within froze stock-still. After all, in the hierarchy of predators, there was one species that towered over the entire food chain, and every living being, no matter how powerful they believed themselves to be, had an evolutionarily-honed instinct to try and attract as little attention as possible in the presence of a dragon.

For the second time in as many minutes, Twilight had to take a moment to reign in the parts of her mind that were gibbering in terror and forcibly remind herself that Spike was her most faithful assistant and would never, ever try to harm her. Then she took another moment to mentally berate herself for forgetting that there was a giant dragon in the room with her. One would think she'd have gotten more observant over the centuries, but it was amazing what kinds of blind spots one could still have.

"Fluttershy." Every animal in the room looked up at Spike as he spoke, his words low and dangerous but not unkind. "You know that Twilight is your oldest friend, and that she loves you very much. She wouldn't ever hurt you on purpose. You're stronger than this. You're strong enough to stand up for yourself, and you're strong enough that I know you won't let fear control you again." He smiled and reached down with a claw, palm facing upwards.

It took a few seconds before any of the animals responded. But eventually, the tiger slowly walked over and and put a paw on top of the claw. "Sorry," a parrot squawked, sounding much more embarrassed than Twilight expected a parrot to be able to sound. Still, most of the bunnies had stopped their frantic scrambling along the walls to turn and stare at her with wary eyes.

"Twilight."

The castigation in Spike's voice stung, but Twilight held herself back from responding, waiting for his next words. When he spoke again, his words were laced with disappointment. "You tried to use a Hearth's Warming gift to manipulate Fluttershy into staying in Canterlot. What would Rarity say about that?"

"I thought Fluttershy would appreciate something that would let her return to her true form," Twilight said, trying to defend herself.

"And it would conveniently also limit her mobility and encourage her to settle down somewhere."

Twilight sighed. "Yes."

"Fluttershy's already been hurt enough from poisoned gifts," Spike said. "But at least Discord probably didn't know what he was doing when he traded his life to give her immortality. You don't have that excuse. I would never have helped you with this if I knew this is what you were planning."

Twilight bowed her head, ashamed at her deception. "I'm sorry." She looked at Spike, and then to the assembly of creatures — to Fluttershy, letting them see the contrition in her eyes. "To both of you. I thought I was being so generous by giving us both what we wanted, but I forgot that generosity isn't just about giving gifts..." she trailed off, waiting for Spike to finish the sentence like he always did.

"...It's about giving something that the other person wants or needs, and giving them something that will let them be who they're meant to be." The words, modified from Rarity's teachings, had become a staple in friendship curriculums across the nation.

"I got so caught up with what I wanted that you didn't stop to think what you did, Fluttershy." Twilight smiled sadly. "You— you're happy the way you are, aren't you?"

The animals that could all nodded. "This is who I am now. As much as I can influence the minds of animals, sharing my consciousness with them has also affected me."

Spike shook his head. "I guess I didn't see it either. Even if I didn't know what Twilight was planning, I should have realized that it wasn't a good gift."

"You were trying to be a good friend to me," Twilight said, walking over and patting his leg with a hoof. "Even when I wasn't being a good friend to Fluttershy. I've spent so much time playing politics here, and making sure ponies did what I needed them to do to make Equestria a better place, that I lost sight of what made me worthy of being a princess in the first place."

She turned to the closest dog and offered out a hoof. "Will you forgive me?"

Slowly, hesitantly, the dog reached out a paw and shook her hoof. "Of course, Twilight," Fluttershy said. "We're still friends, and friends forgive each other. And I hope you'll forgive me for, umm, trying to tear you apart limb from limb."

"Of course," Twilight said, her previous good cheer returning. "What's a little mortal danger between friends? It's just like old times. Speaking of which..." She lit up her horn again and focused on the simulacrum. "I think I do have a gift for you, one that you might appreciate more."

She probed into the heart of the pony-shaped construct until she found what she was looking for. Tendrils of magic reached into the core of the control module, pulling out a sphere of pure thaumic energy with a shaped lattice embedded within. It pulsed with soft yellow light as Twilight floated it towards the nearest animal.

"Umm..." Fluttershy still stared warily at the orb, her bodies tense.

"I know how much you said you missed singing," Twilight said, "and I know you get annoyed when creatures can't understand you because you can't talk with whichever animals are housing your consciousness.

"I extracted the acoustic modulator from the central processing thaumocore, and I think you should be able to merge your anima with it," Twilight explained. "I won't pretend that I won't benefit from being able to talk to you like we used to, but I hope you'll accept this gift as something that I think you'll truly enjoy."

There was a silence as Twilight felt a familiar foreign energy probing at the orb. Then, it began to glow a brighter yellow, floating away from her and into the crowd of animals. A few odd, high-pitched sounds emanated from the orb and then, in a clear, soft tone, Twilight heard the voice of her old friend for the first time in centuries.

"Thank you, Twilight," Fluttershy said, and Twilight could hear the careful nuances of her voice, sense the sincere gratitude in them. "You have no idea how much this means to me." She sounded on the verge of tears, and Twilight found herself tearing up a little as well at the sound.

"Your voice is beautiful," Spike said with a wide smile and tears in his own eyes. "Would you be up for a duet?" He turned to face Twilight. "You can grab my piano, right?"

"I'd love to," Fluttershy said.

Twilight located Spike's piano with her magic and teleported it into the room. It was a specially-commissioned work of exquisite craftsponyship, a towering array of wood and string designed to provide the acoustics of a pony-sized piano while being sized for a dragon like Spike to be able to play. Twilight still considered it one of the better Hearth's Warming gifts she'd given her oldest friend.

Spike walked up to the device and began playing, the rich notes filling the room with a beautiful melody and tugging at Twilight's heart.

"As dawn shines on us every morn,
The fire of friendship is reborn.
And all the friendships we have made,
We cherish in every way,"

When Fluttershy's voice joined the melody, Twilight could hold back her tears no longer, and she noted that all the animals in the crowd that were capable of it were crying as well. How much of it was Fluttershy's unabashed joy influencing their behaviour, and how much of it was genuine happiness at seeing their eternal guardian regain something she had loved and lost for so long, Twilight would never know, but she suspected that the former pegasus would be bringing a lot more joy to her animals in the coming years.

"We are a circle of pony friends,
A circle of friends we'll be to the very end!"

When they finished the song, Twilight softly clapped her hooves. "I haven't heard something this beautiful in a very long time. Thank you, both of you." Seized by a sudden whim, she swept up one of the dogs and Spike's foot in an awkward group hug, squeezing them tight together. "I'm so lucky to still have you both in my life, after all these centuries."

"I'll always be with you, Twilight," Spike replied. "You'd have to try pretty hard to get rid of me."

"I'll never want to be rid of you," Twilight promised.

"I think..." there was a pause as Fluttershy began speaking again. "I think I'll be here more often too. I still remember what it was like to be a pony, and I think... I think it'd be nice not to lose it all. You saw that my animal instincts are starting to take over, and I think it'd be good to hold on to a bit of myself still, even if I don't want a pony body. And I think it'll be easier to do if I'm around ponies more often."

"If that's what you want, then I'd be happy to expand the Canterlot preserves so that you don't have to strain your animal friends as much," Twilight said.

"That would be nice," Fluttershy replied. There was a pause, and then she added, "If you need help with that, I... I can provide some input and perspectives on your conservation policies."

Twilight smiled. "I'd appreciate that, if you want."

"We can hang out and chat about old times. You're the only one around who knew the Bearers besides Twilight," Spike added solemnly. "It'd be nice to have someone to swap stories with who remembers."

"I'd like that." Several of the rabbits approached Spike without fear, covering him with a blanket of hugs. "I still... I still miss all of them, and I don't want them to be forgotten."

"And they won't be, so long as we're still around to share their stories with the creatures of Equestria," Twilight promised. "Discord's Sacrifice is still taught in Generosity classes, even if we're still not entirely sure if he meant it to be a sacrifice."

"He did," Fluttershy said. "When I was lying on that bed, in that moment before I was going to die, I heard his voice inside my head. He told me that one lifetime wasn't enough for me, and that I was more worthy of immortality than he was." All the animals in the room bowed their heads in sorrow. "He never really forgive himself for everything he did, I think. Not completely. I hope he'd be proud of what I've done. I think he'd at least be proud of how his magic ended up affecting me."

Twilight giggled. "Can't say turning you into the collective consciousness of a bunch of animals isn't the kind of thing he'd do as a joke. And I think he'd be proud of how you kept Equestria wild and free even after all this time."

The chuckle that the voice modulator emitted sent warm thrills through Twilight's heart. She hadn't heard the sound of her friend's laughter in so long, and she treasured the experience. "I guess he would be. Need to keep the ponies on their toes, right?"

"It's good for them to remember that nature still exists, yeah," Twilight replied. "So, we have the Great Hall for another hour. What do you want to do?"

"Let me ask my friends." The modulator went silent as the room was filled with a chorus of chirps, caws, squeaks, barks, growls, and all other manner of sounds that signified the explosion of life that Fluttershy had nurtured over the centuries. "They said they want to hear me sing some more, if that's okay with you."

"I'd love that," Twilight said.

Spike nodded. "I'm always down to play a few bars with a good friend." He returned to the piano and began flexing his claws. "And a one, and a two, and a one two three four..." A slow, melancholy melody issued forth from the piano, once more weighing on Twilight's heart.

"When family cannot be here,
Having journeyed far and wide.
We sing a song to honor them,
To remember days gone by."

Soon, all the animals had joined them in song, and Twilight couldn't help but add her own voice into the mix. Together, they sang about the joys of the past and promised to build a brighter future as friends, now and forever.

"For family not here, my dears,
Having journeyed far and wide.
For loyalty and kindness both,
Take joy at days gone by.
For loyalty and kindness both,
We smile at days gone by."