Thirty years ago, near the Boarundi border
It was hot. And it was wet.
That was the thing she'd probably always remember about this trip; the heat, drilling into her skull and boiling her brain, and the humidity that left her mane hanging around her neck like a wet towel.
The Iqwaharshe Zebra lived in probably the hottest, wettest place Star had ever visited, for reasons that even they couldn't quite understand – they claimed it was the will of the gods that they do so and left it at that. More likely there was no reason for it, except stubborn refusal to accept there might be a better alternative. The lands to the south-east and north-west were more fertile, more tolerable and lacked that particularly invasive species of mosquito that seemed to thrive in the sticky wet mess these Zebra called home. There, the food was better, the air was better and predators were almost unknown, but the Iqwaharshe refused to leave Tartarus for paradise, and so Star was stuck chasing after them in a land made mostly of water, held together with something that could only be called soil because there was nothing muddier to compare it to.
She'd rather be back with the Ngulube. At least they knew how to throw a party, even if she couldn't stand being around their arrogant stallions for more than a few minutes at a time. But the Ngulube were nearly a thousand miles away to the east, enjoying their idyllic lifestyle without her.
A voice finally worked its way into her mind, calling from across some vast, water-soaked gulf. Carefully, to avoid slapping herself in the face with the slicked mess her mane had become, Star looked up from her reverie and tried to smile.
"I'm sorry, dear, I was miles away."
"Probably back at the lodge if you're anything like me," Twilight Velvet shot back with a wry grin. "I'll likely spend an entire day in the bath when we get back. You would not believe the places this horrid dirt has managed to infiltrate."
"Oh. I would." Star adjusted her hat to better shade her from the equatorial sun and tried to ignore the nausea building in her gut.
They were riding in a cart, pulled by a pair of Asses who had lived up to their name quite admirably for most of the journey, until Star had threatened to geld them. For the last two days, Twilight and Star had either ridden the cart or walked through the rich red mud of Bokswana, chasing the trail of an isolated tribe of Iqwaharshe on a tip that they might know the location of the long-abandoned capital city-fort of an ancient Asinine kingdom that once ruled the area. It was her third time in Zebrica and her first somewhere other than the Marengeti, where the weather was civilised and the air wasn't a single mass of steam.
Normally Star would have revelled at the thrill of the pursuit and the excitement of such a potentially significant find. Normally she wouldn't have minded having Twilight along for the ride, either; her herdmate, though largely uninterested in ancient history, had a certain charm that so easily disarmed the natives, and it was always helpful to have a speaker capable of understanding the horrendous patois the locals spoke when they weren't using their own languages.
Normally.
But then neither did Star normally feel like throwing up whenever she looked at the sky, or when she smelled certain scents that were frustratingly, distressingly common in this part of the world. Such as that of the troop of baboons that had just thundered past a few minutes prior.
"Twilight..."
The other unicorn looked at her, frowning. "Are you alright, dear?"
"No."
"Oh. Should we turn around?"
"No, I think we should just s– stop for a—" Star felt her stomach gurgle and she let out a wet burp. Without even bothering to excuse herself, she rushed to the side of the cart and performed unspeakable acts upon the fecund earth. Twilight politely covered her muzzle and looked away.
"I do hope you haven't caught anything."
Star shuddered and spat bile, rather more literally than usual. The cart trundled on, its two Asses refraining from comment on this particular turn of events, lest they have a short date with a pair of bricks.
"Malaria tablets all stocked up?"
"This isn't malaria," Star groused. "Those bitey little buggers haven't been anywhere near me all month. They know better."
"What else could it be, dear? How long have you been like this?"
"A week. Perhaps a little longer." Star pulled herself back from the side of the cart and flopped gracelessly onto the deck. She fanned her face with her hat and tried to think about nice, bland nothings. "I thought it was something I ate, at first."
"But that wouldn't make you ill for a whole week, surely?"
"No. I'm not ill at all."
"Then what?" Twilight's eyes widened as Star fixed her with a steady gaze. "Oh. You're sure? I know you were in heat a little before we left but surely you knew better than to—" Star's steady gaze returned. Twilight's ears fell back. "Oh Star, you didn't?"
"It was just once! You were off in fantasy land and fast asleep, Scintilla was at some conference and Crystal was gods knew where, probably locked in her room with an ice bath if she had any sense. I was going insane, Twilight." Star ran a hoof over her forelock, leaving it sticking out at odd angles, increasing the frazzled look of her already humidity-stricken mane. She rolled her eyes heavenward and let out a short, wordless shout. "Pregnant in the middle of a disease-ridden shit pit! What in Celestia's name did I do to deserve this?"
"You know exactly what you did," Twilight replied, before gently rubbing Star's shoulder. The older mare took a cut-off breath and let it out slowly through her nose. "And you knew the risks, presumably."
"Thirty percent chance seems pretty good odds when you're so heated you start trying to seduce a hosepipe."
"That bad?"
"Oh you have no idea," Star groaned, not even wanting to remember that week.
"On the bright side, at least we know he's not going off dry. Looks like we'll be celebrating!" Twilight gave Star a shy smile and looked away toward the horizon. "Though perhaps here isn't the best place."
"Nor the best time," Star replied, feeling increasingly faint as the humid air seemed to close up on her all over again. "Maybe you'll enjoy having foals when the time comes. I don't feel like celebrating. This is the last thing I need right now."
"Star—"
"Oh you'd be okay. You could go back home, lounge about like one of the heroines in those trashy novels you like to read so much, wait a few months and then squeeze out an heir or three so the family can carry on. I can't afford foals right now, not when I'm so close to—"
Nausea kicked at her gut. Star leaned back over the side of the cart and let fly once again, heaving and pawing feebly at the sideboard long after her stomach had emptied itself, and then following up with a stream of invective that would have made a stone blush. Twilight just sighed and shook her head.
"Star, you can't work like this."
"I have to. The university—"
"Will understand completely, dear. They can find you something to do until you're able to go out in the field again, or maybe you could work on one of those books you keep saying you're going to write. Besides." Twilight glanced meaningfully along the trail and waved her hoof in front of her nose. "How will the Iqwaharshe react to you vomiting all over them every morning?"
"Don't care," Star grumped, knowing she sounded like a spoiled child. She folded her forelegs and turned her nose up with a loud snort. Twilight just sighed and leaned toward the lead Ass.
"Hey, yula pully round sah, heddy lodge way so."
"Heddy new gula bits mo," the Ass replied with a jaunty lilt. He turned to his companion and muttered something under his breath before resuming his pidgin conversation with Twilight. "Makey miss mula coosan, heddy lodge way round Ngansa su after so ya?"
"Twilight..."
"Heddy way no ava, Ngansa way no ava neither so," Twilight replied, ignoring Star's attempt to distract her. She stared at the Ass and shook her head. "Yula coosan sit pretty."
"Bits sah, moy makey."
"Twilight Velvet, stop trying to convince him to turn around! We have to get to the Zebra before they move on! Anyway it's clear he's pretty set on going after them."
"Star, no, you're in no condition to argue about this," Twilight replied. She turned to the Ass again and fixed him with a steely glare. "Yula makey heddy– ach, to tartarus with it. Umzala wenu ngumufi kimi! Inqolaguquka eindlwanaini noma amathumbu akho ngizodla!"
The Ass swallowed and glanced at his companion, who nodded slowly. "Heddy lodge way sah."
"Good!"
Twilight took a deep breath and sat back on her haunches with a triumphant grin. A moment later the cart lurched and began to make a slow circle, much to Star's dismay. Not that she was inclined to do much about it at that particular moment, nor did she think she was even capable. She settled for glaring daggers at her herdmate instead, but Twilight just ignored her ire and gave her a sympathetic smile.
"I know you had your heart set on this, Star."
"Heart nothing, I had my career resting on this! Do you know how long I've worked for this moment? Now some brainless moron with no idea of what she's looking at will get there first and probably make a name for herself while I languish in obscurity in some backwater college in the middle of Celestia knows where, lecturing on post-unification history to halfwits and imbeciles!"
"I've always loved how active your imagination could be," Twilight replied with a light chuckle. She leaned back against the sideboard and looked up at the sky, holding on to her hat with a free hoof. "It'll all work out, you'll see."
"I'll hold you to that," Star groused as she stared back at the way they'd been heading. Somewhere beyond that hill the Iqwaharshe were even now setting about the long task of breaking camp for the rainy season. They'd be separating into their male and female herds, scouting trails and looking for new feeding grounds, and in a few days they'd melt away into the sopping green and red mess they called home. On the bright side they'd take their information with them, meaning none of her potential competitors would be able to get to it either. It was a small comfort, but Star was willing to take anything on offer right then.
"Any ideas of what you'll call her?"
"I haven't thought about it. And it's going to be a colt, apparently. I had a Mangwa doctor look at it at the lodge." Star rubbed her belly until she realised what she was doing. She forced her hoof to the floor and glared at it. "They've got some excellent medical skill hidden in all that mystic nonsense they spout, I just wish she hadn't kept rhyming all the time." Star looked up at the sky and shook her head. "Twilight, if I ever do anything this stupid again—"
"Don't see it as stupid, Star. It's a positive thing."
"Positively horrendous, you mean. Next time, you're all on twenty-four hour duty or I'm locking myself in an ice house with a stiff drink and the hosepipe. One or the other. I'll just have to cope with this one."
"Funny, isn't it? Lucent and I start really trying for a foal and suddenly you're the one that's pregnant."
"What's your point."
"Nothing. Just seems funny, that's all," Twilight replied with another little sigh. She closed her eyes, letting the rocking cart lull her as the world went by. After watching her herdmate's rhythmic sway for a while, Star tried to do likewise.
The cart hit a bump, rocking them back and forth. Star held her stomach, fully expecting another bout of nausea, but the worst of it had apparently passed; she felt nothing more than a faint discomfort. The unicorn let out a relieved sigh and leaned back, finally relaxing. "I have to admit, you turned these two around with impressive speed. What on earth did you say to him?"
"I told him what if thought of his cousin and then I think I threatened to withhold his pay, but my Isizebu is so atrocious that I might well have threatened to eat him."
"Ah," Star replied with a grin that looked only marginally happier than she felt. She looked back along the trail again and sighed, rubbing her belly. She imagined a little warm spark somewhere deep inside and tried to imagine how it would feel, but for once her imagination failed her completely.
"Why not get rid of it?"
Star choked at the sudden suggestion, more for the source of it than anything else. She closed her eyes for a moment to think. "That Mangwa doctor asked the same thing. She even had herbs and nonsense like that. What do I need herbs for? I'm a unicorn for Celestia's sake, a quick amniopyre and it's gone."
"But you don't want that?" Twilight leaned forward, gently touching Star's knee.
"Not really something I'd thought to dwell on before."
"I don't think you should," Twilight replied. The shy smile was back again. "For entirely selfish reasons, I should add. When Lucent does manage to water my garden it'd be nice to think she'll have somepony to play with. An older brother would be wonderful."
Star huffed and shook her head, losing herself in the thought. She'd been steeling herself for this moment ever since the first twinge, but it still felt as if it wasn't quite real. Foals had never been part of her plans.
"It's not going to be the life I imagined," she said quietly. Twilight hummed in sympathy, her concentration mostly lost to some sort of notebook she'd fished out of their supplies. She glanced up at Star and then returned to reading.
"You say this tribe are the only one that knows where the temple is?" Star nodded. "And they've just packed up to go a-wandering haven't they?"
"Yes. They likely won't settle down again properly for at least four years. They'll probably spend a month up near the mountains a year or two from now, but apart from that..." Star stuck out her jaw and frowned again. She glanced back along the trail. "Twilight, how do you feel about a little foalsitting the year after next?"
"Why darling, I'd be absolutely delighted!"
"If I can catch them at the mountains it's likely we'd be closer to any ancient settlements. Nopony would be stupid enough to try and build a kingdom in this muck." She thought about that for a moment, considering the Zebra she had been chasing. "Almost nopony."
"Didn't I tell you everything would work out?"
"I don't know if I'd call this working out, but I suppose it's the best I can hope for."
"That's all any of us can ever do, Star," Twilight said with another one of her shy smiles, a reminding Star of why she'd fallen for her in the first place. Neither spoke for a while, content to let the world rumble slowly by. In the distance, between the trees, Star could see the glint of Lake Ngansu, which was called a lake only because it was stretching the definition of 'mud' too far to call it anything else. The water shimmered in the sun, almost unnaturally blue from this distance.
"Shining," she said as the light caught her eyes again. She'd have to visit that lake someday. The north shore might even be tolerably firm. Maybe she could bring him along. "I'll call him Shining."
* * *
Canterlot University, present day
Light fell on Star from great glass panes embedded in the roof of her lecture hall, each shaft shimmering with chalk and the dust of countless hoof-worn books. She had her back to the ranks of students as she continued to draw on an enormous blackboard. A large chunk of life's work, rendered in white chalk on a black field the size of a small house, presented to students who were only there because they had to be.
It was no wonder her mind kept sliding back to those earlier days. Star squeezed her eyes shut for a moment to push away the reverie and forced herself to concentrate on the lecture.
"... and so, as should now be clear, the presence of these numerous arched chambers indicate that this area was once a central meeting place for many dozens, possibly up to a hundred small family groups for what appears to be some form of the Kuur collective burial ceremonies. There are signs here and here of crude excavations, likely grave robbers or fortune seekers, but the chamber here remains undisturbed, indicating– you, at the front!" Professor Star Sparkle turned from the board, raised her hoof toward a colt seated at the foot of the lecture hall and glared at him. "Are you even listening?"
In fact the colt, whose name she could never remember, had been listening quite attentively as Star had drawn a detailed map of an early Donkey temple-fort, but he had such a cute way of blushing when she called him out that she just couldn't help herself. The blush only got stronger when he realised the rest of the class was paying attention to him as well.
"I, ah, I was—"
"Never mind, just keep your eye off my delectable rear and on the board in future." A smattering of laughter broke out in the lecture theater. Professor Sparkle turned from the poor colt with a huff and eyeballed several of her students at random. "I expect every one of you to pay the strictest attention to what I say and what I write. All of you, especially you," she said, pointing again at the target of her torment, "believe you have some future in our diplomatic service or you wouldn't be here listening to me drone on about the history of those societies with which we have such close relations. If you are to be a part of the great service to which you feel you are called, it is important to understand the history of our friends across the great species divide. Yes?"
Another student slowly lowered her hoof and stood up to speak. "Professor, when you talk about close interspecies relations—"
"Let me stop you right there," Star said, peering at the student. "Cookie Cutter, isn't it?"
"Yes'm."
"Well, ms Cutter, I understand you were hoping yet again to make a joke at the expense of my daughter, so let me just be clear on that too. Unless you can come up with something incredibly creative, you are not allowed to make such jokes in my lecture hall. Questioning what my darling filly gets up to in the bedroom is entirely my affair and I refuse to allow anyone else to take my fun unless they come up with something worth stealing. Now," she continued, turning from a few quiet chuckles and back to the blackboard. "Before this descends to yet another attempt to distract from today's lecture, let us return to the study of our—"
A movement at the door of the lecture hall caught Professor Sparkle's eye and she paused, eyeing the figure behind the door. Star tapped her forehoof on the floor and pointed at the target of her somewhat unfortunate affections again. "You, take the lecture until I get back. My notes are easy enough to read, not that any of you layabouts know the meaning of the word."
"But—"
"Consider it recompense for your indiscretion," Star growled, pushing past the unfortunate colt as he sloped up to the lectern. As she stepped down she quite innocently bumped her hip against his, leaving the poor thing more confused than ever and blushing furiously.
Ahh, students.
Star Sparkle crashed open the door – the cavernous echoing spaces of the university combined with a number of odd design choices meant it was impossible to open the doors quietly – and cantered out into the hall. A younger mare stood a short distance away, primly examining a wall of posters extolling the virtues of the Equestrian diplomatic service, declaring student solidarity with various causes and advertising Four-for-one Friday at the Student Union bar. The mare turned as Star approached, tossing her immaculately styled pink mane against her equally immaculately brushed pale blue coat.
"You'd think they would update these posters," she said, eyeing the display board along a delicately aristocratic snout that looked as if it should be permanently accompanied by a pince-nez. "I remember the same NSU call for ‘action' over the..." she peered at the display again. "Atrocities in Neighpon when I was a student here."
"It's an atrocious place," Star replied, rolling her eyes at her own terrible joke. "Forget the posters, Crinkle, what are you doing here?"
"Star, darling, I'd prefer Crincile."
"But of course!" Star grinned and pressed closer to her herdmate. "If you prefer Crincile then Crincile it shall be, at least until we get that pretty blue rump of yours back up to my office."
Crincile raised her head slightly, refusing to give into Star's blandishments just yet. She looked up the corridor, then down, noting the lack of any visible students or staff between its institutional-green walls. Not a surprise given the time of day – lectures were in full swing, no-one would be roaming the halls unless they were on extremely urgent business. "Perhaps I should have waited until lunch. Star... Star, please, not in public!"
"As you probably noticed," Star said from somewhere behind Crincile's neck. "We're not precisely in public." She pulled herself away and looked into her herdmate's face, finally noting Crincile's discomfort. Not the sort of discomfort she'd want to inflict, at least not yet. "Oh very well, I assume you're here for something important or you wouldn't be dragging me from my lectures, and since your idea of important doesn't include anything remotely entertaining..."
"If you're quite finished." Crincile turned away with another quiet sniff and they began the short trek to Star's office, their hoofsteps echoing in the oversized corridors. Star still occasionally found herself wondering just what possessed the architects of her university to design such ridiculously overwrought spaces. Of course, when she'd been a student, the little nooks and crannies they offered had been more than welcome.
Her office was, naturally, as enormous as anything else in the building, as much a testament to the designer's tastes as her own rather considerable status. She lazily greeted her secretary whilst ignoring his demands for her attention, kicked open the inner door and made a beeline for the drinks cabinet, not even taking a moment to glance out of the tall windows overlooking the University's main quad.
"Now m'dear," she said, as she poured herself a very large gin and tonic. What the hell, it was past midday. "What important business do we have to attend to?"
"Well—"
"Only please be brief, I have a meeting with the Dean in, oh, forty or so minutes and I'd like to at least pretend to complete a lecture before I see her today."
"Star, you—"
"You're right, it's a terrible idea to drink before a meeting," Star replied, before taking an overly large gulp of her drink. She let the warmth of the alcohol soak into her body for a few moments and let out a sharp breath. "But I have tenure, so what do I care?"
Crincile fixed Star with a slightly twitchy glare and very carefully pushed the door closed. The silence seemed to break through to Star's famously rock-hard mind; she lowered the drink and tilted her head.
"Is something wrong, dear?"
"Nothing is wrong with me, Star, but you do seem to be displaying your usual ability to completely gloss over very important details about your surroundings." Crincile sniffed again and tossed her mane. "Your daughter, for instance, who has been sitting behind you for at least five minutes."
The ice in Star's drink rattled quietly as she took another sip. "You're assuming I wasn't deliberately ignoring her. Don't pretend this mood of yours is about Twilight, Crinkle. I'm sorry that I missed your anniversary with Luci—"
"That has nothing to do with it."
"—but it's just not healthy to hold grudges." Star put her drink down and finally turned to face her beloved daughter. Twilight Sparkle was sitting, in fact, on a couch by the far wall, next to the larger of Star's frankly enormous bookshelves. The book she'd been reading was perched on the arm, while she stared at her mother with what was hopefully feigned horror. "Hello dear. How's the ape?"
"Mom!"
"Yes, yes, I know that's no way to talk about your lovely Rainbow Dash, but she does invite it so."
"W– What? But you– but..." Twilight put both forehooves to her face and let out a very long, slow breath. Much to Star's surprise the younger Sparkle didn't immediately descend into gibbering madness.
"Interesting... Crinkle, see this? Normally she's chewing her own leg off to escape by now. Evidently life in this herd suits her!"
"That's wolves, Star," Crincile responded, before carefully inserting herself between the pair. She put her foreleg over Twilight's withers and gave her a quick hug, slipping onto the couch herself. "Honestly, the way you treat Twilight like some sort of bucking bag, it's no wonder she's been so neurotic all her life"
"I'm not going to pretend I was ever a perfect mother, dear. We all raised her as best we could. Now," she said, turning to Twilight. "Why, sweet little filly of mine, did you feel it necessary to have the Lady de Botici herself summon me in the middle of a lecture? At the very least you could have come yourself."
"Mother, the last time I visited you in one of your lectures, you managed to convince the entire class I was an exhibitionist."
"Oh. Yes, so I did. How frightful, though perhaps subsequent events have proven me somewhat right in that suspicion?"
"Interspecies courtship is not exhibitionism."
"I know, dear."
"Then why– never mind..." Twilight snorted and blew out her cheeks. She hooked a foreleg over the arm of the couch and then seemed to sag, her whole body molding itself into the seat as she let out another, longer breath.
"Would you like a drink?" At Twilight's nod, Star moved back to the drinks cabinet and filled two more glasses. "And one for you as well, dearest Crincile?"
"Why thank you, darling, I thought you'd never ask."
"Of course. How's Luci? What with all that's going on right now, I haven't had a chance to see him for a couple of weeks."
"Oh, you know, madly jealous of his stars, enamoured with the Princess, trying to extract sunlight from cucumbers. That sort of thing."
Star and Twilight shared a skeptical look. The younger unicorn cautiously accepted her drink and settled even further into the couch, as if that were possible. Star returned her attention to Crincile.
"Cucumbers?"
"Well, perhaps I'm exaggerating a little, but... Star, you recall he's been getting those odd ideas about trying to attract Princess Luna? Right now he's muttering about finding the solution in dark arts and 'arcane magics'. With an 'S'. One of these days I fully expect to find him cackling around some mad scientist's laboratory!" Crincile took a delicate sip of her drink, wrinkled her nose and then set it aside. "Isn't there some way to distract him?"
"Crinkle, if you can't think of a way to distract him then you're out of luck. I wouldn't worry too much, though. The whole mad science act is really more Twilight's thing, isn't it dear?" She eyed her daughter for a moment, smiling broadly as Twilight shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "That lab you maintain in your basement, so very fascinating. Do you still have that delightful air elemental warded down there? He was such a charmer!"
A strange silence settled over the room as the two elder mares contemplated Twilight. Her eye twitched. She slammed back the drink between her hooves with impressive speed and tossed the now empty glass on the couch. "Well it's been so nice seeing you again, mother, but I think it's time I left before you say something so traumatising that I have to teleport myself into deep space to escape the shame."
"But Twilight, dear, you haven't even explained why you came to visit!"
The look Twilight gave her mother could have cut glass. However, she seemed to relent, possibly because the alcohol in her drink had finally found its way to her spine; Twilight sat upright, sniffed primly, much to Star's amusement, and nodded. "Of course." She took a breath and held it for a moment. "It's... a little... unusual, otherwise I would have just written to ask."
"As if you ever write to me."
"Mom, come on, I'm trying to have a rational conversation here! No, you know what? Forget it." Twilight stood up, barely even wobbling despite the strength of the drink she'd consumed. She marched toward the door. "I'm not going to bother, I'll just send the invitations and hope you have the decency to—"
The door rattled and the lock clicked, encased in Star's light blue aura. Twilight teetered to a halt and turned to face her mother and Crincile. She frowned at each in turn.
"What are you doing?"
"What invitations would these be, dear?"
"No."
Star pursed her lips and turned back to the drinks cabinet, any thought of her future driven from her mind. She carefully measured another, rather stronger drink while considering her next words. In truth, her relationship with Twilight had always been a little fraught, but this behaviour was new. Perhaps she'd finally pushed too far?
"Twilight..." She took a breath, abandoning the drink. She'd probably need it after more than she wanted it now. "You're right, I have been indecent. I'm not going to excuse myself." A flash of her horn and the door unlocked again with a loud click. "If you really want to leave, I won't keep you."
Twilight wordlessly moved toward the door, but stopped before she reached it. She turned to look at her mother again, a look of utter confusion on your face. "You just apologised. You never apologise."
"I never had my daughter actually hinting at what I suspect you may be hinting at before," Star shot back, rounding on Crincile as she did so. "Has she said anything to you about this, whatever it is?"
"Not a word, I'm as in the dark as you are."
"Ahh, a mystery! I do so enjoy mysteries." Star's aura tugged a chair around from behind her desk and she sat down, facing Twilight. The young unicorn took another breath and slowly made her way back to the couch, holding her head high and proud, as if she'd intended to do nothing else. With her daughter seated once again, Star brought her second drink to her lips. "Very well then. Surprise me."
"We're getting married."
For the first time in many years, Star Sparkle's magic failed her. The drink she'd been about to consume slipped to the floor and smashed on the dense carpet tiling, splashing its contents across the floor, the chair and both Star and Crincile's hooves. Not that Star noticed. She was too busy staring at the triumphant expression that had formed on Twilight's face.
"Oh." Star pursed her lips and tried to think of a better response. She watched as Crincile primly stepped away from the couch and retreated to the kitchenette on the far side of the office. "Well. This is certainly a first."
"Yes. You're actually speechless."
"Close, dear. Close." Star poked gently at the broken glass around her seat with a rear hoof, then just as carefully levitated the whole lot into the wastepaper basket. "So, you and this human are tying the proverbial? Surely he would have chosen Rainbow Dash to—"
"No, mom. All of us. We're all getting married."
If Star had been holding her drink she would have dropped it again. In lieu, she dropped her voice to a harsh whisper. "All of you?"
"Yes."
"Even that slightly loopy one with the harp?" Twilight's eyes flashed. Literally flashed, Star noted, with just a hint of flame gathering at the pupils. "Yes, fine, that was uncalled for. I'm just—" Star closed her eyes and massaged her temple. "And you say you're not an exhibitionist... I assume you've not even considered the political ramifications? No of course you haven't, why would you think about something like that? You're only tutored by the protector of the entire realm and source of all Equestrian law, after all! Still, I suppose I mustn't complain, I may yet see some grandfoals out of this if that research of yours pays off. Crinkle, good news!"
Crincile peeked out of the kitchenette. "Yes, darling?"
"Twilight's decided to throw the entire world into chaos!"
"Again? Does this mean I shall have to cancel my lunch date with Shelly?"
Star ignored the complaint and kicked open the office door, much to her secretary's dismay, though not surprise. He was more than used to her moods by now. "You, boy, run down to Hall Seven and tell them to bugger off home, I'm finished for the day."
"You've still got your one o'clock with the Dean, Professor. And it's Penny Candy."
"I know, I was trying to save you the embarrassment." The sympathetic look Star gave her secretary was entirely feigned and they both knew it. She tapped her chin and thought for a moment. "Reschedule with the Dean. I have to go and get awfully drunk."
"You really want me to say—"
"Of course not! You just make something up. Family matters, urgent political conference, timberwolves invading the basement. Something! Don't just stand there, get on with it!"
She slammed the door and turned her gaze to Twilight and Crincile, both now seated together on the couch. Twilight seemed pleased with herself and Star, for her part, felt oddly proud of her daughter, though she had no rational reason to do so. Rather the opposite, in fact. It was evident that she'd almost succeeded in turning Twilight into a copy of herself. What joy.
"I think we should celebrate! A new era is upon us and all that rubbish, lets all go out and have a nice meal or something. My treat!"
"Actually, mom..." Twilight shifted in her seat and then abruptly stood. She cantered toward the door. "I can't. I have to be on the train back to Ponyville. That's why I came now and not later in the day."
"Oh. Can't spare another moment for your old mare?"
"Sorry." Twilight continued toward the door, but stopped with one hoof resting against the handle. She turned to look at Star, her face twisted up into a parody of its usual beautiful self, and her voice quavered a little when she spoke. "I want to stay, mom, but—"
"It's fine, Twilight. You go and enjoy whatever sort of perverse fun you have with your herd."
"Mother."
"Yes, yes..." Star moved closer to her daughter and gently rubbed a hoof on her shoulder. "I... I'll see you soon. Hear me?"
"Yeah." Twilight pushed the door open and stepped out of the office, pausing just long enough for a final glance over her shoulder before the door closed on her again.
Star took a deep breath before returning to her seat, which she dragged back around to its customary position behind the desk. She sat down and stared at the piles of papers and nick-knacks cluttering up the broad oak surface and then laid her head down on the blotter.
"Why can I never say it, Crinkle?"
"Say what?"
"You know." Star rolled her eyes toward her herdmate and grinned, without humour, or any sort of feeling at all. Crincile seemed to consider the statement for a few moments, then dismissed it with a shrug.
"I think you know why. I'm sure she understands, Star. She takes after you more than you care to admit."
"She does not! If I hadn't been forced to squeeze her out I'd swear she was Velvet's!"
"Ah yes, Velvet. That turned out rather well, didn't it?"
"Oh, don't remind me. I don't know how I put up with you," Star groaned. She pushed away from the desk and clopped to the floor again.
"Remember, Star, I wouldn't be the mare I am today without your influence," Crincile said, smirking, as she made her way to Star Sparkle's side. The younger mare affectionately nuzzled her herdmate, drawing just the hint of a smile onto Star's face. "So! What were you saying about a celebration?"
"Actually, given the circumstances, I was thinking of rolling into the NSU bar and tapping a few of my students for free drinks."
"Somehow, Star, I expected nothing less."