About Last Night: A Deleted Scene

by EquesTRON

The Princesses Will See You Now...

Late at night, in one of the many corridors of Canterlot Castle, a young pegasus guardspony stationed at the end of the particular hallway in question was startled halfway out of his armor by a sudden flare of crackling, lavender-colored light materializing right in the middle of the hall, not twenty feet away. His senior partner, a veteran unicorn with the unlikely name of Colonel Butterscotch, was unfazed by the impressive magical display. Or possibly asleep. It was hard to tell with the Colonel, sometimes.

A lavender-coated unicorn and an orange-sherbet earth pony stepped out of the flare of light as it dissipated. Both of them looked a bit sleepy-eyed, as if they’d been unceremoniously summoned out of bed sometime after midnight. (Which, in fact, they had been.) The younger guardspony quickly pulled himself together as the pair shook off the lingering effect of the unicorn’s long-distance teleport spell{1} and began to approach his position.

As they drew closer, he noted with some small interest that the unicorn had a gold wedding band on her horn, and the earth pony wore a matching band around her hoof. Well, horseradish. How come the really cute ones always turn out to be into other mares? he asked himself with wry amusement. Not that there was anything wrong with that – his own sister had a marefriend too, and anypony who gave his little sister any grief for being a “fillyfooler” would get a steel-booted buck in the head if he ever found out about it, no two ways about that! As long as Toffeecrisp made Silver Chain happy, that was all Silver Chain’s big brother cared about. But darn it, that orange-sherbet mare with those freckled cheeks and that trio of apples on her flanks was just so darn cute, in that tomcoltish filly-next-door sort of way, that a stallion couldn’t help wishing anyway...

“Twilight Sparkle and Applejack to see Princess Celestia, as requested,” the unicorn said, nodding to herself and her companion in turn. The earth-pony mare – Applejack, presumably – nodded as she tried to stifle a sleepy yawn. She and Twilight had both spent the last couple of hours testing the limits of the “sleep-in-the-same-bed” spell on their wedding rings, only to reach the reluctant conclusion that it was very much a case of “exactly what it says on the tin.” Not in the same house, or even in the same room, but in the same bed, period, full stop, end of discussion. Even trying to push the guest bed Applejack and Rarity had used during Twilight’s first slumber party up against Twilight’s bed didn’t seem to count, at least as far as the spell’s parameters were concerned. And neither bed alone was large enough for the two of them to share without being quite awkwardly aware of the fact that their faces – and quite a few other body parts – were separated by only a scant couple of inches of very personal space.

And Spike’s unsuccessfully-stifled snickering while he pretended to be asleep hadn’t helped matters at all.

“Of course, Twilight,” Colonel Butterscotch said, startling his younger partner by actually showing some sign of animation. “It’s all right, Moonwatcher,” he added. “Twilight is Princess Celestia’s personal student; she pops in here all the time. Well, maybe not as often as she used to, but still. She’s clear.”

Moonwatcher blinked and nodded. “What about her?” he asked, pointing a hoof towards Applejack.

“You mean, the Bearer of the Element of Honesty?” Butterscotch asked with a tolerant chuckle. “I think you can safely assume she has clearance too, kid. Sorry, he’s new,” he explained to the two mares, once Moonwatcher had relaxed his guard. “Anyway, you’re both expected, so go right on in. The Princesses will see you in Celestia’s private chambers. You remember the way, I assume?”

“Of course I do, Colonel,” Twilight said warmly. She’d always liked the grizzled unicorn stallion; in her younger school-filly days at the castle, he would always manage to sneak her a few butterscotch caramels from his private stash whenever she passed by, no matter how many times Celestia or Cadance had chided him for spoiling Twilight’s appetite by giving her a hoof-full of sweets right before dinnertime. “It hasn’t been that long! Come on, Applejack. Let’s not keep Princess Celestia waiting.”

As she passed by the guards, she felt a slight tingle in her mouth, followed by a heavenly burst of warm, rich sweetness as a butterscotch caramel materialized right on her tongue. A startled noise from Applejack told her that she’d gotten one, too. Twilight glanced back over her shoulder, and saw the barest hint of a wink from the veteran guardspony. “You’ve been practicing,” she said with a quiet chuckle. “Private joke,” she added to Applejack, unable to suppress a slight giggle at the adorkably-stunned expression on her friend’s face after having had candy teleported right into her mouth – by one of Celestia’s personal guards, no less! Colonel Butterscotch simply returned his attention to the corridor, pretending not to have noticed.

Twilight led the way through the familiar corridor she’d traveled through so often over the years, heading directly for Celestia’s chambers, smiling as she passed by the impressive new doorway which led to Luna’s own chambers. Well, not really “new”, as such; technically, the doorway and the rooms beyond had always been there, but during Luna’s thousand-year banishment, the doorway had always been covered over by a large, decorative tapestry and several layers of very powerful “Somepony Else’s Problem” enchantments, so of course Twilight had walked past them dozens of times without ever really taking any notice of them.

Finally, they reached an ornate double doorway with a polished bronze replica of Celestia’s solar cutie-mark emblem set into the dark-stained wood. “So... do we just, y’know, knock or somethin’?” Applejack asked uncertainly. Surely the correct protocol for visiting one of the Royal Diarchy in their private chambers, even by direct invitation, was a bit more formal than that...

“Watch this,” Twilight said smugly as her horn lit up to cast a lavender beam directly into the emblem on the doorway, causing a sequence of glowing glyphs to appear on each of the sun’s rays in turn. Applejack found herself smiling at her friend’s display. There’d been a time when Twilight would have gone out of her way to avoid openly showing off her power like this, or tried to downplay her special status with Celestia, for fear that her new-found friends would resent her for it. But dang... when you’ve got the combination to Princess Celestia’s private quarters, an’ permission to just let yourself in without even knockin’? That really is kinda somethin’ worth showin’ off, Ah’d say!

The doorway swung open at a final push of magic, and Applejack gave Twilight a playful nudge. “Show-off,” she teased. Twilight just grinned and nudged Applejack back, then gestured for her friend to enter first. Applejack was a bit intimidated by the prospect – despite her own special status as an Element Bearer, she was still a plain country earth-pony farmer at heart, and having such honors extended to her always made her feel a bit out of her comfort zone. But the warm smile on her unicorn friend’s face said that she wanted Applejack to have the honor, and Applejack knew it would make Twilight happy... so, after taking a moment to brace herself, she stepped through the doorway, entering the Royal Chambers of the Princess of the Sun with as much respectful dignity as she could muster up.

Inside, Celestia’s quarters were everything Applejack had imagined they would be. Privately, the ever-practical farm pony had always had a sneaking suspicion that living in the sort of ridiculously-elaborate fantasy settings most ponies imagined royalty would live in would get pretty tiresome after a while – especially after a few thousand years of it – and had suspected that the Princess probably kept her own private rooms much less “royal” than everypony thought. She was pleased to see that for the most part, she’d been right; Celestia’s chambers, while impressively large, luxuriously furnished, and neat as a pin, were quite visibly lacking in solid-gold dinnerware or gemstone-encrusted champagne fountains, elaborate displays of priceless antiques, or buff pegasus stallions fanning the Solar Princess with their wings while feeding her peeled grapes. She even saw that in the privacy of her own quarters, Celestia had shed her royal jewelry; the Solar Crown, royal necklace, and golden hoof-boots were resting on black-velvet cushions inside a glass-sided cabinet, which Applejack would have bet a year’s cider profits was protected by something a lot more substantial than a mere ward lock and key.

What Applejack hadn’t expected to find in Celestia’s chambers was the sound of hysterical laughter coming from the sitting area off to the left, or the sight of the Solar Diarch and her sister leaning against each other for support as they gleefully rocked back and forth on their haunches, their attention focused on a very large-screen television in front of them, shrieking and giggling like schoolfillies.

And then Applejack saw what was on the screen.

Aw, horseapples.

“It would appear... that thy student... hath truly learned the... ‘magic’... of friendship, dear sister!” Luna was saying, barely managing to gasp out the words in between peals of side-splitting laughter as she clutched her forelegs around herself.

“Oh, sweet Maker, roll it back... to the part where she... wiggles her flanks again!” Celestia, the Princess of the Sun, the ever-dignified Solar Diarch, was in no better shape than her sister, stabbing almost blindly at the VCR’s remote control with her hoof as she cried tears of helpless laughter.

“Princess Celestia, Applejack and I are here as... you... requested...” Twilight said as she trotted up to join Applejack, her voice gradually changing from happiness to horror as she, too, saw what was on the television screen. The two mares watched helplessly as the embarrassing wedding ceremony played itself out once more, in full color and stereo sound.

“‘Let... the tongues... dance!’” Luna shrieked in unrestrained glee, echoing the lecherous Las Pegasus “priest”, as the newly-wedded (and highly inebriated) Twilight and Applejack on the screen went in for their tongue-wrestling wedding kiss. “Indeed, let them... dance... most merrilyyyAAHAAHAAHAA!” And with that, the Lunar Diarch lost any semblence of self-control as she fell over sideways, wrapping her wings tightly around her aching barrel while her silver-shoed hooves pounded helplessly on the floor.

Twilight and Applejack just stared in horror, both of them slowly turning beet-red underneath their fur. Finally, Applejack snapped out of her shock and rounded on Twilight. “You sent them the tape?” she demanded. “Why in tarnation did you send them the tape, Twilight?!”

Twilight opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out. She tried it again, but her vocal cords didn’t seem to work any better the second time. Or the third. “I... I thought... I... I asked Princess Celestia for help getting to the bottom of this mess, and I... I thought... I thought she’d need to see the evidence!” she finally managed to say.

“Well, good goin’, Twi,” Applejack snorted, gesturing towards the pair of hysterically-laughing alicorns. “Ah can sure see how that helped a whole heap!”

“Hey! This isn’t entirely my fault, you know! You’re the one who got us snockered off our plots on hard cider in the first place!”

“Yeah, but you’re the one who... Wait, did you just say ‘snockered off our plots’?” Applejack asked incredulously.

“Yes, snockered! As in smashed! Plastered, tanked, shellacked, blitzed, soused, bombed, sozzled, lubricated, cockeyed! Three sheets to the wind, flanks over withers, sloshed to the gills –”

“Well into thy cups?” Luna managed to gasp out.

“– lit up like a Hearth-Warming tree, pickled as a pie-eyed pegasus, blind-bucking drunk, impaired, intoxicated, in a state of inebriation!!” Twilight finished, too caught up in her thesaural{2} tirade to have noticed Luna’s adding her two bits’ worth to the list, or the tittering snort it had provoked from Celestia.

“Ah know what it means, sugarcube, Ah just never thought Ah’d hear you of all ponies usin’ language like that,” Applejack said, unable to resist a slight chuckle at Twilight’s indignant expression. She really is kinda cute when she loses her marbles like this.

“Oh, really? Why? Because ponies never swear in Canterlot?” Stress and sleep deprivation were making the normally serious-minded, bookish unicorn a bit punchy. “Snockered... off... our... plots! Want me to say it again?”

Even in the heart of Canterlot Castle, in the presence of royalty, Applejack couldn’t resist an opening like that. “Oh please do, sugarcube, you know Ah love it when ya get all earthy like that,” she smirked.

“APPLEJACK!!” Twilight’s expression was priceless... and dangerously similar to the one she’d worn just before her frustration over being unable to figure out Pinkie’s “Pinkie Sense” had boiled over into an impressive (but fortunately harmless) explosion of magical flames erupting from her mane and tail.

“Oh my, it sounds... as if the honeymoon... is over already, dear sister!” Luna said in between bouts of hysterical giggling. Twilight and Applejack startled and, if anything, blushed even more brightly than before as they realized that their heated exchange had attracted the Diarchs’ attention. Or at least as much of their attention as either alicorn was capable of giving at the moment; Luna was still rolling on her back, clutching her aching sides with tears of laughter streaming down her cheeks, and Celestia’s muzzle was twitching in a way that made it clear it was taking every shred of control she had to keep from falling down laughing as well.

“Ah, there you are Twilight... Applejack,” Celestia began, her wings practically vibrating with the effort it was taking her to keep her voice steady. “I apologize for... mmmmhh... waking you and your... er... hmmm... your...”

“...‘cowpony’...!” Luna supplied helpfully from the floor, causing Celestia’s control to slip quite badly for a moment.

“Yes, your... NO! Oh sweet Maker...” Celestia facehooved, shaking her head frantically.

“So much for ‘What happens in Las Pegasus, stays in Las Pegasus’,” Applejack grumbled sourly.

Luna snorted as she rolled over and tried to push herself up off of the floor, struggling visibly to regain her air of regal dignity, and failing rather badly to accomplish either of those actions. “If thou had truly wanted... snrk... this matter to remain private,” she said with a silly, giddy smile that was about as far from “regal dignity” as it was possible to get, “then thou shouldst not have... recorded the event and... hmmhh!... sent the tape... to our sister, my little cowponyyyAAAHAHAHAHAA!” And with that, the battle was lost once more; the Lunar Diarch went down with a thud!, kicking her hooves in the air, and practically turning blue – more so than usual – as she fought for every breath in between her gales of laughter.

“Oh fer the love of little green apples,” Applejack muttered under her breath.

“Oh, come now, my faithful –” Celestia started to say.

“One hopes they have, yes!” Luna interrupted, causing Applejack and Twilight to blush beet-red once more. Even Celestia turned a most undignified shade of pink at that one, which pleased Luna to no end.

“Luna!!... oh, sweet Maker... ahem. Twilight, despite the... seriousness of this situation, and the... hmmmhhh... less than dignified manner in which... certain ponies in this room are receiving this news...” Celestia said with exaggerated care, “let me assure you that... ahem... I am pleased that your studies in... ‘friendship’ –”

“– and the benefits thereof!” Luna added gleefully, pounding her hooves on the floor again.

Twilight’s jaw hit the floor as well, partly from sheer embarrassment, and partly from the surprising (and somewhat disturbing) revelation that Luna, despite being literally a thousand years out of touch, was already familiar with the modern-day slang term “friends with benefits.” Applejack just winced.

“Not... helping... Luna!” Celesta giggled helplessly through gritted teeth, biting down on one hoof as she fought to keep from simply exploding in laughter at her sister’s raunchy commentary. “Ahem. As I was saying... I am pleased that your studies have progressed to such an... ‘advanced’ level, and that you have no reason to fear having brought shame upon me, or yourself, with your actions,” she continued, her voice becoming significantly – and suspiciously – calmer as she spoke. “I do, however, have one question for you...”

“Yes, Princess?” Twilight asked cautiously.

“Tell me, my most faithful student,” Celestia said, leaning in closer, until she was eye-to-eye with Twilight and Applejack. Applejack had a sudden awful suspicion that she knew exactly what Celestia was going to ask.

Oh, horseapples, please don’t say it... please don’t say it...

“Just how well does your cowpony ride?”

Twilight’s eyes got as wide as saucers. Again, words failed her. All she could do was watch in stunned, mortified disbelief, feeling the blush spreading all the way to the tip of her horn, as her beloved mentor and her mentor’s younger sister, the Princess of the Sun and the Regent of the Night, the Royal Diarchs of Equestria, fell back to rolling on the floor of Celestia’s chambers like hysterically giddy schoolfillies, clutching their aching sides in their tightly-wrapped wings and forelegs, tears rolling down their royal cheeks while they both gasped desperately for air in between their ringing peals of hilarious, helpless laughter...

“Swell,” she heard Applejack say beside her. “We just broke the Princesses.”

Twilight just hung her head and sighed. “Somepony shoot me.”

{1} Some of our more perceptive and/or attentive readers may wonder how it is that Twilight was able to teleport herself and Applejack all the way to Canterlot Castle, when she was supposedly too tired to perform the ring-removal spell she’d found. It turns out that according to Cosmic Stringweaver’s Third Principle of Resonance-Field Thaumaturgy, the difficulty of casting any given spell depends on several variables, not the least of which is how familiar the unicorn in question is with the spell and how many times they’ve successfully cast it before. Thus, for Twilight Sparkle to teleport herself over a long distance to someplace she’s already teleported herself to hundreds of times before and is intimately familiar with, such as the corridor leading to the Princesses’ private chambers, is actually somewhat easier than, say, teleporting herself over the relatively short distance from her library tree to the Mayor’s office would be if she’d never actually been inside the Mayor’s office before. (However, according to Aetherwave’s Transpositional Corollary to the Third Principle, the more passengers and belongings you try to bring with you, the more taxing it gets, regardless of your familiarity with the spell and location itself. The exact relationship is somewhat complex and involves rather a lot of imaginary numbers, so suffice it to say that this is is why you don’t see unicorns providing instant-mass-transit services to large groups of ponies or cargo on a regular basis. Had Twilight tried to teleport them all to the Grand Galloping Gala, for example, along with Applejack’s apple stand and everything else, she would have spent the better part of the next twelve hours nearly unconscious while recovering from it. Although looking back on it, she might have preferred that.) Casting an unfamiliar spell for the first time is the most taxing of all, in terms of energy and mental focus – and as many a frantic grad student cramming for their final exams has learned to their detriment, even the strongest pot of coffee will only get you so far.

For those readers who wonder how it is that she was, in light of the above Principle, able to teleport herself and Applejack all the way to Las Pegasus, the explanation involves Twilight having a great deal of familiarity with Las Pegasus’ famous Fetlock Strip, due to having attended the Summer Sun Celebration held in Las Pegasus in the year prior to Nightmare Moon’s return, and then spending the better part of the following two weeks making the rounds of every themed casino on the Strip to compile an exhaustive list of all of the out-of-theme and period-inaccurate details she found in each casino. In what is widely recognized to be a supreme act of diplomacy, the Mayor of Las Pegasus thanked Twilight for her thorough research, and promised that the matter would be given all the attention it deserved. The list is currently serving as a doorstop in the Mayor’s office. A very, very heavy doorstop.

Those who find the above explanations unsatisfying, are encouraged instead to ponder the wisdom of the great earth-pony sage and philosopher, Best Brains: “Just repeat to yourself, it’s just a show, I should really just relax.”

{2} Yes, “thesaural” is a real word. Feel free to look it up if you don’t believe me.