//------------------------------// // 30. Ponyville // Story: Lost and Found // by Cloudy Skies //------------------------------// “Your case is just, and your worries not inconsequential,” Luna declared. “We hope that you will accept the court’s sympathies, and rest assured knowing that we shall see to it that you have all you need for your new barn.” “Thank you, princess, thank you,” the earth pony stallion said, bowing as he retreated. It looked as if though he’d keep repeating himself all the way down the long throne room hall, but he was interrupted by the loud brass blare of trumpets. “It is six o’ clock, and the Day Court is concluded!” one of the many guardponies about the room called, much to the disappointment of the pegasi, unicorns and earth ponies about the room. Twilight had seen it dozens of times before. From her spot near the royal throne upon which Luna sat, the same scene played itself out again, nobleponies, sales clerks and farmers all muttering amongst themselves. Twilight counted the seconds until the guard raised his voice again. “The Night Court will open in four hours! Cases to be brought before the Princess Luna, Ruler of the Night, may be presented then!” “Meaning four hours to take a bath, have supper and grab a short nap,” Luna muttered as they together watched the ponies file out of the room. In a matter of minutes, the din died down, and soon they were the room’s only occupants save for a token pair of white-coated guards. The throne room, as with every other room in the castle, was infinitely too large in Celestia’s absence. With their audience gone, Luna stretched and yawned. “We do appreciate your assistance, Twilight Sparkle. Your work in keeping matters of law and trade organized has been very useful,” the princess said. Twilight’s ear twitched. The princess usually needed a few minute to re-adjust to normal conversational volumes. “But?” she replied. There was a follow-up. Luna may be hard to read, but the words were not. She’d lived in the palace at Luna’s grace for weeks now, snow covering Canterlot’s every street and roof. “If you want me to leave, I understand,” she said, lowering her gaze to the floor. “That was not at all our point,” Luna said. “We are glad for the company, and our sister sleeps better when you are around.” “You don’t have to say that,” Twilight muttered, swallowing. “It’s not flattery, it’s truth. Last time you fell asleep by her side—” “I’m really, really sorry about that,” Twilight interrupted, her cheeks flushing. Luna frowned, apparently more annoyed at the interruption than that very embarrassing fact. “As we were saying, last time, we noticed a difference. Maybe politeness or decorum prevents you from observing or agreeing, but it’s true.” Twilight said nothing. She’d had her own quarters assigned ever since she asked if she could stay, but she spent the majority of her time in the royal bedchambers with Celestia, be it reading, thinking, penning several letters a day to her friends back in Ponyville—or sleeping. Luna rose to stand, and without further comment, walked towards one of the side doors of the throne room, one of the myriad of doors that led to hallways primarily used by servants to move about the castle unseen. “But?” Twilight repeated, trotting after her. “You were going to say something.” “We intended to, at that,” Luna acquiesced, giving her a long look before opening the door ahead of them with a brief glimmer of magic. “You treat this as penance.” “Sorry?” Twilight asked. “Penance?” “You are here in Canterlot because of guilt. You seek to atone when you have done no wrong, and your friends need you,” the princess said. “I didn’t mean to do anything wrong,” Twilight said. “It wasn’t on purpose, but it was because of me.” “Which still does not place you in a situation where you are at fault,” Luna countered, halting in the narrow halfway and turning around on the plush carpet to face her. Twilight tried her hardest to let that logic rule her, to agree and mean it, but it was no use. All the lessons she had learned about friendship worked against her. On matters of feelings, friendships, all the things that dealt with relationships, logic failed. Cold words didn’t matter when she still remembered Celestia’s every word that night, when she could still feel her warmth upon her coat when she closed her eyes—only to have it freeze when she saw the princess in her unending slumber. “Have you—” Twilight tried, pausing to clear her throat. Her voice threatened to crack, and she couldn’t peel her eyes off the ground. “Have you ever heard that something isn’t your fault, but failed to believe them? Rationally, you know they’re right, but it just doesn’t work?” Luna laughed. It was a short burst, a bark of a chuckle filled with disbelief and not a little pain. “Twilight Sparkle, you forget who you are talking to. Yes, we have. We live with the biggest single regret of all ponies in Equestria, we should think, and every morning after we were freed from the nightmare, our sister greeted us with forgiveness is in her eyes.” “Sorry,” Twilight sighed. “Think nothing of it. We have spent the better part of a year thinking about it, and we are stronger for it. All we wish is for you to understand that you do not have to be here.” “But if I want to?” “Then you are welcome to stay for as long as you would like,” Luna concluded, walking onwards. Twilight followed still. It seemed Luna had the same destination in mind as her. In silence they walked through the twists and turns of the palace until finally, Luna opened an anonymous door, depositing them in the middle of a wide and lavishly decorated marble hallway. As one, they made for a large set of golden doors emblazoned with a shining sun. Little had changed inside Celestia’s bedchambers. A bowl of fresh fruit paste and water stood by her bedside, but the pastel-maned alicorn lay exactly as she had for weeks on end, wings folded and chest barely moving with breath. Luna halted by the bedside, but did not protest when Twilight leapt onto the soft mattress to sit by Celestia’s side. “If you wish, I very much doubt sister would mind should you move all your effects and stay here,” Luna commented, reaching out to rest a hoof on the slumbering princess’ flank. “I don’t have a lot of things except my toothbrush and the books Rarity brought from the library last time she came to visit,” Twilight replied. “I’ve read them before, anyway.” “Yet still you prefer to keep to your own chambers? Or rather, try?” Luna asked with a wry smile. “It wouldn’t be proper! I thought you cared about those things more than I did,” Twilight said, shaking her head. “Us maintaining a dignified front doesn’t mean we should mind this. You care about her, and you know she cares about you too.” “Of course I do,” Twilight said, leaning against Celestia. Even in her sleep, she felt twice as alive as any other pony, but she had to wonder if she wasn’t a little more quiet, if her breath wasn’t a little more shallow than last week. The clump in her throat only grew. “And do you love her?” Twilight closed her eyes and rested her head on Celestia’s body, looking up at Princess Luna. “They’re just words. I know I’m sorry I didn’t talk to her more that night. I’d like to try what she suggested, to see. Does that count? Does it matter?” she asked. Twilight rubbed at her face. “You said she cares. Present tense. You’re not half as scared as I am,” she muttered. “Do you think she will be okay?” “We have lived for thousands of years, and the two of us have seen much. If we were to panic blindly every time something happened, we would have lost all the hairs in our mane by now,” Luna said with a snort, but her stoic expression melted away soon after. “But of course we worry.” The silence held while Twilight listened to the sounds of Celestia’s breath, her own head moving with the soft rises and falls of her chest. “Has she really never loved somepony before?” she asked. “She spoke of this to you?” Luna replied, raising a brow. “A little. She was being vague,” Twilight admitted with a small smile. “Like usual.” “In the time before our banishment, she took apprentices from time to time. When somepony showed great talent. It was not often. Romantic interest, however, we do not think she ever showed. Still, she has spoken of one pony who courted her, decades or centuries ago.” “There was somepony?” Twilight asked, breathless. “Did she lie?” “We said she was courted. It was not mutual,” Luna said, her tone making Twilight’s ears droop. “Our sister is many things, but she is not a liar.” “Catching up on a thousand years of gossip is slow, if pleasant work,” Luna added, climbing atop the bed and settling down by Celestia’s other side, opposite of Twilight. “Sister would not mind us telling, we think. She spoke of this to us after she showed interest in you.” “His name was Brighthoof, her last apprentice. He was a unicorn like you, and his love for her was limitless. All our subjects with any sense love our sister, of course, but it ran deeper than that. Sister cherished their bond, and it is not for us to say whether or not it could ever have gone different, but there was one problem, to sister’s eyes. He loved her unconditionally.” “I’m not sure what you mean,” Twilight said, tilting her head. “Absolute, and, more problematically, without question,” Luna clarified. “I know what the word means,” Twilight grumped. “And we just gave you the context. He could not find flaws with her. His love for her was for a princess who did not exist, a perfect being that my sister is not. Worse, she could do no wrong in his eyes.” Twilight shifted. Were she to be honest, it sounded a lot like her up until that one fateful day. Until the wedding. It was easy enough to see in hindsight, but she knew that before she had seen the princess fall, that was her. Luna rolled her neck, stretching. “We spoke to her about this before we left for the border, and her words made a lot of sense. How can somepony truly love another when they are not ready to see their full being, limitations and all? She could not make him understand this. This is where you are different, she feels. She teaches you, but you teach her as well. That you dare speak up against her is important to her.” “I don’t, really,” Twilight muttered. “Then you of course accepted her affection on the spot, as would all sane ponies in your situation?” Luna asked. Twilight opened her mouth, but no sound came out to deny the rhetorical question. “You rejected her, or rather, told her to wait. It is quite the paradox, but we believe she knew you would, and that it is why she loves you. We are not even entirely convinced she herself was sure until you did not return her love. She is quite complicated, but there is a logic to it.” Twilight sighed, deflating until she lay over the sleeping princess like a purple mat. “I’m sorry, princess, but this really doesn’t make me feel any better.” “Nor was it meant to,” Luna shrugged. “You asked a question, and you have your answer.” “Right,” Twilight said. “So what happened to Brighthoof anyway?” “Our sister has far too soft a heart, but eventually, she managed to make him understand. Rather, she told the truth, but he failed to accept it. As this was during the eighth or ninth century of our banishment, the prophecy about Nightmare Moon’s return was nearing its conclusion and she was growing desperate. He tried to help.” “Brighthoof heard that sister had been looking into understanding the Elements better, and that she sought the cradle of the Elements, their birthplace. While our sister has always been a prodigy in all things related to magic, our understanding of the Elements is limited, and it was weaker still before she used them in our banishment.” “What did he do?” Twilight asked. “He left Equestria behind. After spending months in the royal archives, he left. Original books and maps were missing, and none of the border crossing posts saw him pass. Sister found a letter where he said he would try to win her love by fulfilling her greatest wish; freeing us from the Nightmare. He vowed to return and win her heart, but he never did.” The small glade that lay in the nook between the Ponyville brook and the very edge of Whitetail Woods was packed with ponies. On a small, temporary podium, Mayor Mare stood addressing the crowd. If somepony said that every single pony in all of Ponyville attended, none would be surprised to hear it. As if that wasn’t enough, the Apple family members numbered in the dozens, and in the front of the crowd stood a couple—a pegasus and an earth pony who none in Ponyville recognized. The clouds had been scattered for the occasion, but a thin layer of snow was unavoidable. The ground, the trees and the podium all rested underneath an inch of puffy white snow, as did the two stone markers by the pond at the edge of the clearing. The two inconspicuous rocks stood side by side, simple square stones polished to a mirror sheen bearing neither words nor image. “We are gathered here today to honor and remember two of Ponyville’s finest citizens,” the mayor began. “Two ponies who have always served as examples for all—” Rainbow Dash wished she would shut up. She folded her ears and looked away, knowing that if Mayor Mare spoke either of their names, she’d be hard pressed to avoid the impulse to fly up and bite her on the snout. It would be oh so easy, what with she herself being on the front row, shoulder to shoulder with Pinkie Pie, Rarity and Twilight. “This is stupid,” she muttered. “Darling, do have some respect,” Rarity hissed. “Yeah, I bet you’re happy,” she replied. “You wanted this. Or something like this.” Rarity made no reply, her eyes glistening as they fixed on the air in front of her. It was almost enough to make Rainbow Dash regret her words. Rarity had abandoned her plans for her little memorial moment long ago, but any desire to apologize was drowned in the distraction of Pinkie Pie’s little glances and less-than-subtle pokes. “What?” Dash whispered. “You’re being silly. You can say goodbye even if somepony’s coming back, you know,” Pinkie said. Her smile widened, from the subdued little things she wore these days to something a little more—or was that less?—normal. “I say goodbye almost every day!” “It’s not a funeral, Rainbow,” Twilight added in a murmur. “Yeah. Sure. It feels like one, that’s all,” Dash admitted, resettling her wings and letting her ears droop. A small sigh worked its way through her body, and she felt the others drawing a little closer the very next second. She didn’t bother pretending she didn’t want that closeness, nor could she find the energy to say her thanks when her friends all leaned against her. “Besides, maybe we could have a little party for them afterwards?” Pinkie asked. “A teensy-weensy little we-hope-you’re-okay party?” “Something low-key, perhaps,” Rarity agreed. “I have to be back in Canterlot by evening, but a little get-together would be nice. Some relief,” Twilight agreed. She sounded weary, tired beyond belief. Resigned. Rainbow Dash shrugged the others off. Pinkie squeaked as she fell from her half-hug of Dash, and Rarity and Twilight both backed away with muttered protests. Mayor Mare shot them a harsh glare from the podium even as she kept talking, extolling the virtues of the two ponies who were suddenly her favorite citizens of all time. “So it is a goodbye. You don’t think they’re coming back,” Dash accused. “I never said that! I’m just tired, okay? We just have to consider every possibility,” Twilight hissed, glancing about. They were drawing attention now, but Rainbow Dash didn’t care. “Parties are supposed to be fun,” Pinkie complained. “It’s not a goodbye party!” “We’ve already discussed this,” Rarity said. “Honestly, why are you being so cross?” Because it hurt. Because she knew they were coming back, but she couldn’t make them understand. Because everypony in Ponyville knew and loved Fluttershy and Applejack both, and the way they were stood here moping in front of two stupid stones like they were dead already made Rainbow Dash want to scream. And perhaps, just the tiniest bit, because Fluttershy wasn’t theirs to mourn. She was hers to wait for. “Forget it,” Dash growled, spreading her wings. “You can’t just—” Rarity began. Rainbow Dash did. With a takeoff that send the snow whirling, Rainbow Dash left the stupid pretend burial behind, blocking out the surprised and offended gasps and shouts. Rainbow Dash managed to hold on to her anger for a few hours. It helped that most of that time had been spent sleeping, curled up on a lonely cloud set adrift over Ponyville. She’d already said her piece on the Mayor’s order to keep the skies clear for her stupid little speech thing, so while the other pegasi drafted to help fix the weather in her stead grumbled, none dared disturb the cagey pegasus’ nap. Which was precisely why she awoke to the soft sounds of music drifting out from Sugarcube Corner below. The sun had began seeking the horizon and the ponies of Ponyville were back in the streets, no longer a ghost town like it’d been when she fell asleep. Foals were playing in the snow, and their laughter mixed with the tunes from the confectionery. Rainbow Dash tried to ignore it all, but the heady scents of sugar, cider and sarsaparilla were too much. Band-aids were best ripped off quickly anyway. Dash kicked off the cloud and swooped down to land on the stairs, trotting inside before she changed her mind. “Hi, Dashie!” Pinkie called, meeting her before she’d even crossed the threshold. Of course she would know the second another guest arrived. Sometimes, one had to wonder if she could smell ponies when they drew close. “Hey guys,” Dash replied, making for the snack table while she looked around. Twilight and Rarity were stood over by two strange ponies—no, those were Fluttershy’s parents. Posey and Surprising Bar or whatever his name was. The Apples were here in force, too. The fact that the snack table was where Pinkie always set it up was the only thing that made this look remotely like a normal party. The music was too quiet. Either that, or Dash just wanted it to be loud enough to blast her thoughts out of her mind. “I tried something different this time,” Pinkie declared as Rainbow Dash nabbed one of the almost conspicuously normal treats. She gave the yellowish muffin a glare. It couldn’t be that bad if the others were eating them. The tray was nearly empty, and she could see Apple Bloom and Big Mac both eating one each over by the other side of the room. “They’re vanilla!” Pinkie said. Dash swallowed the thing in one bite, chewing noisily before swallowing, frowning and nodding, all in short order. “Huh, they really are. Uh, Pinks? Sorry to break it to you, but that’s not even a little ‘different’. You’ve baked chocolate blueberry pineapple cider muffins.” “Uh-huh, but I never made vanilla muffins before!” she beamed. “Good, huh? I bet they’d be even better with a dash of hot sauce, or maybe with a caramel filling, or with star fruit, or—” “Vanilla’s great,” Dash muttered absent-mindedly. Their other two friends were doing a very bad job of trying to hide the fact that they were talking about her, and more than once did she catch Posey and her husband looking her way. “So, do I have egg on my face or something?” Dash asked. “—or cheese, or, huh? Nuh-uh!” Pinkie said, licking a hoof before rubbing at Dash’s muzzle. “But you have muffin on your muzzle!” “Augh, get off me!” Dash groaned, batting her away, flushing as some Apple mare or other passed them by, giggling to herself. “I just wanna know what Twilight and Rarity are up to!” “Oh, that? That’s probably because Posey and Rising Star told them that they think it’s very sad that Fluttershy gone, and then they started talking about how you might be sweet on her, and a bunch of other things! Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t like to eavesdrop. You never know what’s secret, but some things aren’t really secret not because somepony said something they shouldn’t, but because everypony can see it and then they start talking, and when they ask Pinkie Pie—that’s me—or Rarity about it, then the way they don’t answer is kind of almost a teensy weensy bit of an answer, too.” Rainbow Dash tested her wings while Pinkie Pie recharged, drawing breath again. It was one of those stupid little reflexes she’d never been able to lose. A split second of a desire to take off. When she’d furled her wings, she shrugged. “Okay.” “That’s a really silly word,” Pinkie said. “You’re not angry, are you?” “Nah,” Dash admitted. “Because I’m really sorry if maybe Rarity and Twilight and I told without telling, I didn’t mean—” Pinkie began, her ears drooping and her entire body sagging. Dash casually plugged her mouth with a hoof and shook her head. “And I was a hay-brain earlier today, so let’s call it even. Can you turn up the music a bit? This place is too quiet.”