Twilight groaned and rolled over for the umpteenth time that night, fruitlessly trying to get comfortable. She had been trying to fall asleep for the better part of an hour, and though she was beyond tired, her efforts continued to prove futile. The worst part was that she knew exactly why she wasn’t able to get to sleep, and yet that knowledge was of no help to her efforts at all.
It wasn’t her accommodations that were keeping her awake. She was staying in a lavishly bedecked room large enough to fit most of her Ponyville library, which was stocked with just about everything she’d need to be comfortable; she had a sizable dresser and vanity, a nightstand with a lamp, ample room, and a large bed.
The bed itself was comfortable enough; a plush four poster bed with soft purple blankets adorned with multiple pillows, all framed by luxurious blue curtains. It was about ten times more comfortable than her single bed back in the Ponyville library, and was nearly as comfortable as Celestia’s bed back at the castle. The bed was, quite literally, made for a princess.
No, this particular problem had been following her round like a black and dreary storm cloud ever since the night she completed Starswirl the Bearded’s spell and became a princess. That was a night that would be seared into her memory forever. Even now, as she focused on the memories, she could feel faint traces of the emotions she had experienced that fateful night.
At first she had been ecstatic.
Once she had gotten over the shock of growing wings and realized that she had wings, it had seemed like a dream come true. Like every other little filly in Equestria, she too had dreamed of soaring through the air under her own power, not having to rely on pony-made constructions like hot air balloons or pegasi-drawn carriages. When she realized she’d actually be able to live out that fillyhood fantasy, well, she had almost been as excited as Rainbow Dash.
It took her a few hours of overwhelmed excitement with her friends before the first horseshoe dropped; flying was hard. All of a sudden, it was like she was back in her parent’s house studying day and night; exhausting herself mentally, physically, and magically while trying to force her magic to bend to her will so she could be like her new role model.
Only harder. Way harder.
Perhaps it was easier for adolescent pegasi; they were, after all, born with wings. To them, the feathery appendages were like hooves; they had always been there and thus, they felt natural. That natural feeling combined with instinct and the coaching of their parents had most pegasi at least hovering in no time flat.
Twilight wasn’t born with wings, and therein laid her problem. To her, they felt awkward and unnatural; as if Discord was having a laugh at her expense again. Not having been born with them, she thus lacked the innate instincts all pegasi shared about utilizing their extra appendages. And though Rainbow Dash tried to fill the position of personal coach, it wasn’t really working out, because being told to twitch this muscle and retract that muscle was about as useful as being told to think floaty thoughts.
Though her flying lessons were a total bust, she told herself that all it would take is patience and practice. She started thinking of it as a test; and Celestia forbid she ever fail a test, especially one as important as this. Determined, her good mood was once again buoyed by her decision to buckle down and tackle her problems head on.
This was, of course, when the other horseshoe dropped.
As she actually began to focus on the feeling of her wings when they moved, she unconsciously became aware of the movement of certain muscles she lacked before. While she was heartened at the progress, that progress unfortunately came with a downside; twitching. It started out small at first; a small twitch here, a little ruffle there. It wasn’t anything too drastic or even memorable, and so she promptly dismissed it as unimportant.
To her chagrin, however, her wings soon began popping open at the most inopportune moments and stiffening, causing her to knock down objects and poke her friends in the eyes. Fluttershy promptly forgave her, of course, but that didn’t do much to lift her plummeting mood. The constant sleepless nights didn’t help matters either, and once or twice she had become desperate enough to entertain the idea of going before Princess Celestia and begging her to take them back. That, however, would be seen as failing, and so those thoughts usually lived short lives and died painful deaths.
Over time, she had actually somewhat gotten used to the lack of sleep, and fighting with her uncooperative wings had become something of a nightly ritual. She would usually toss and turn while struggling with her wings for a while, pass out, and then repeat the whole process about three to four times a night after being awoken by cramped muscles and stiff wings.
This night, however, was the worst yet. She’d been tossing and turning for nearly an hour now, and every effort to control her stubborn wings was met by failure. She’d tried lying on her side, and thus, on one wing; she counted herself lucky she was able to catch the bedside lamp before it landed on Spike after her free wing shot out and knocked it over. Lying on her back made her wings cramp up painfully, and when she tried to lie on her stomach her wings would shoot straight upwards in defiance, straining uncomfortably against the blanket.
After her ordeal in the alternate world, her misbehaving wings and a sleepless night were the last things she wanted or needed. She was overtired, sore, and at her breaking point. If she didn’t get some shuteye soon, she’d most probably burst into tears, and she wasn’t sure if she’d have the strength at this point to stop herself. This bleak thought roiling throughout her sleep deprived mind, she rolled over once more, her wings and blanket rustling loudly in the otherwise silent room.
“Twilight?” Spike mumbled sleepily through a yawn from his plush basket beside the bed. “You okay…?”
“I’m,” Twilight managed to croak out around the sudden lump in her throat as a wave of hopeless depression seized her; she was being nuisance to Spike who, as a baby dragon, was in need of a good night’s rest. He had been through an ordeal too over the past few days, and yet instead of sleeping soundly like he should have been he was listening to her make noise and inquiring about her discomfort. “I’m fine, Spike.”
“Do you want me to…” Spike trailed off and yawned as he sat up slightly in his basket, his eyes blearily opening a crack. “Make you some hot chocolate or something? To help you sleep?”
“N-no,” Twilight stuttered slightly, her eyes misting. Hastily rubbing the moisture from her tired eyes, she quietly sniffled, fighting almost hopelessly against the overwhelming wave of emotion crashing against her shaky composure. “I’m okay. Go back to sleep.”
“Okay,” Spike mumbled as he unceremoniously allowed himself to fall backwards, stretching his limbs out and sighing in sleepy bliss. This basket was larger and the cushion softer than the one he had at home. “Maybe you just need to feel comfortable; like with different surroundings. Maybe the library or something…”
“You know what Spike? Maybe you’re right. Maybe a change of scenery is all I need.” Twilight stumbled tiredly out of bed, wincing slightly as her stiff wings momentarily got tangled in her blanket. Dropping a light kiss onto the sleepy dragon’s head as she passed by, she walked out into the dark hall and gently closed the door behind her. She doubted changing locales would help; after all, it was her wings that were causing her trouble sleeping, not the unfamiliar surroundings. Whether or not it would actually help was not the deciding factor in her decision to move elsewhere, however; at least now, with her gone, Spike wouldn’t be kept awake.
Sighing slightly, she decided to at least give it a try and began shuffling down the dark hall. Though she was quite familiar with the layout of the library, she wasn’t as confident with her knowledge of the twisting halls of the castle; each hall looked exactly the same. It only took her a few minutes of stumbling along the corridor before she realized she had no idea where she was. Hopelessly lost, she was about to throw in the towel and try to retrace her steps when a bright light blinded her, causing her to stumble into something hard.
“Princess Twilight Sparkle?”
Twilight grimaced slightly as she stood back up, rubbing her sore flank. Squinting her eyes, she attempted to look through the bright light at the speaker. “Yes?”
“I apologize, milady; I have shown a reprehensible lack of diligence in what should have been constant vigilance.” The guard bowed solemnly, respectfully dimming his horn when she shyly bade him to rise. “Is there any way I can be of service to you, Princess?”
“No, no. I’m fine; really.” Twilight grinned tiredly. “Carry on.” Walking past the armored colt, Twilight took a few steps before an idea wormed its way into her sleep deprived mind. Stopping, she swiftly about-faced. “Actually, I’m looking for the right room; they all look the same in the dark and I’m kind of lost…”
It never occurred to the purple mare to light up her own horn or to mention which room she was looking for. The guard, true to his position, took the situation in stride and, putting his deductive reasoning to good use, gave the sleepy princess a set of instructions and offered to escort her there. Twilight, not wanting to distract the guard from his duties, politely declined and diligently followed his simple instructions.
Coming to a large set of doors exactly like all the other large sets of doors, Twilight stopped and frowned slightly in confusion. Looking closely, she spied the illuminated crack along the bottom; the light was on inside the library. Not willing to put forth the effort to try to deduce who it could be while she could find out by simply walking inside, Twilight closed her eyes and opened the door. She wasn’t in a hurry to be blinded by the light again so soon.
Having the layout of the library practically burned into her memory, Twilight decided that if she was going for comfort she might as well make her way to the magic section. Taking a second to review the path in her mind, she tiredly set out for her chosen destination with her eyes closed. It was her utter confidence in her ability to reach her destination unimpeded even without looking that caused her to squeak in surprised bafflement as she once again found herself on her rump after having walked into something.
“Did I take a wrong turn?” Muzzle scrunched up confusion, Twilight cocked her head slowly to the side as she continued to mumble to herself incredulously. “But I was so sure… “
“Twilight?”
Twilight froze her monologue as she heard her mentor’s voice. “Princess Celestia?”
“Are you alright, Twilight?”
“Princess?” Finally, she dared to crack her eyes open despite the light, and gazed blearily up at the large fuzzy white shape in front of her. It was the princess. “What are you doing in the library this late?”
“Twilight,” Celestia’s voice conveyed her concern for her student, though the expression on her face also showcased a certain amount of amusement to the other occupants of the room. “I’m not in the library. Neither are you.”
“Oh.” Twilight blinked slowly, her vision slowly starting to clear as her eyes once again became accustomed to the light. “Oh.” Turning her head slowly, she took her attention off of the white blur in front of her and gazed at the room. She espied two more pony-shaped blurs, one pink and one blue, along with a few pillow shaped blurs and what looked like a low table, yet only one thing really stood out. “Where did all the books go?”
“As far as I’m aware, this room has never housed books.” Celestia placed her teacup and saucer onto the table so it was out of the way, instead devoting her full attention to her obviously confused protégé.
“Oh. That’s odd.” Twilight vaguely recognized the other ponies in the room as Luna and Cadence, though that realization came to her through what felt like a mile of fluffy clouds; the revelation felt like an unimportant afterthought. Though she realized on some level she should acknowledge them, her thought processes were so clouded by stress and tiredness that her brain deigned them irrelevant. “This isn’t the library then?”
“No, this is a sitting room,” Celestia couldn’t help but reach out a hoof and gently move the purple pony’s fringe out of her eyes. “Is everything alright Twilight?”
“I’m fine.” Twilight responded automatically. Her mind wasn’t so far gone that a little sleep deprivation would stop her from uttering out her rote reply. It was an ingrained response, one born of a wish not to burden others with her problems in a time when her only friends were her baby dragon and the princess before her.
“Are you sure?” Celestia prodded gently, quite aware that not everything was as it should be with her littlest alicorn.
“Really; I’m fi-” The rest of Twilight’s sentence became stuck in her throat as her vision cleared just enough for her to make out the white alicorn’s expression. A lie she had said a thousand times with ease deserted her in the face of her mentor’s genuine love and concern for her. Realizing her had been silent for a few moments too long, she once again tried to reassure the older alicorn, only for a few faint sounds to make it out around the frog in her throat.
“Twilight?” Celestia’s expression and tone morphed into one so achingly familiar that the torrent of emotion within finally overwhelmed her. The dam keeping her emotions at bay crumbled like dust; unable to keep her footing, Twilight succumbed, drowning in everything she had been trying so hard to ignore.
Suddenly, she was a filly again, basking in the comfort and protection the princess unconditionally provided her with.
She was huddling under Celestia’s great white wing as the monarch gently soothed away her fears of the storm raging outside with a soft lullaby.
She was lying pitifully in bed with a rather severe case of the flu as the princess gently mopped the sweat off of her brow with cool cloth, all the while reading to her one of her favorite tales of Starswirl the Bearded.
She was curled up on Celestia’s back, her tear-stained face buried into the downy softness as the princess found her on her birthday after she had received word her parents couldn’t visit.
Though the vivid memories changed, their underlying feelings stayed the same.
She was safe. She was warm. She was loved.
Twilight wasn’t sure how long she had been lost in her memories, but as she came back to herself she was momentarily confused, for the feelings of love and safety had yet to vanish. Shaking her head slightly, she confusedly realized she could feel something both wet and soft against her face. Slowly pulling her head back, she became aware of a soothing sensation against her back, and a low sniffling sound.
Consciously leaning into the sensation, Twilight cracked her eyes open, blearily gazing up at the white blob in front of her. It was only when a white hoof gently wiped her eyes that she realized her vision was blurry because there were tears in her eyes. With that realization came another; the pitiful sniffling sounds she could hear were being produced from her own mouth.
Horrified that she was sobbing all over her mentor, Twilight attempted to push herself back, different words of apology clamoring to escape. Her frantically apologetic words died on her lips, however, as she was gently but firmly pulled back into the white alicorn’s embrace. After a few moments of frantic struggling, a gentle humming permeated her foggy mind, causing her to go limp.
It was her lullaby.
As she allowed her mentor’s voice to work its magic, Twilight slowly began to calm down and lean more fully into the white down. Though the only things she hated more than burdening others were failing and disappointing the princess, she thought that perhaps, at least for one night, she could let go. Perhaps, for one night, she could forget she was a grownup and a princess, and was expected to be able to deal with her own problems.
Perhaps, for one night, she could be a little filly again.
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