The midafternoon sun shone bright and warm as Twilight trotted through Ponyville, cheerful rays providing a pleasant counterpoint to the refreshing late-fall chill in the air. By the time she had arrived, the thin layer of snow blanketing the ground had almost completely melted away, leaving behind patches of damp earth and the occasional, easily-avoided puddle. Winter did not officially start for another seven days, but apparently Rainbow Dash had taken Twilight’s advice of performing a smaller-scale trial run of snowfall in advance of the season, as was the common – and eminently reasonable – process in Canterlot. She smiled.
Twilight Sparkle was back in control of her life.
And in an impressively short amount of time, too, considering the circumstances. A mere thirty hours before, the unicorn had had the metaphorical rug pulled out from under her hooves with the discovery that she was with child. Her brother’s child.
The panic that followed had driven her to immediately seek out personal guidance from Princess Celestia herself, which was something she had not done since foalhood. Twilight was loath to bring her private issues to Celestia. Whenever possible – and all too often when it wasn’t possible – she attempted to tackle her troubles on her own, seeing it, rightly or wrongly, as the “adult” thing to do. Even after her lessons in friendship had instilled in her a sense that there were times when it was appropriate to turn to other ponies for assistance, her go-to source of support had been her cohorts in Ponyville. It did not seem right to badger the diarch of Equestria with any matters of a severity below “threat to national security”.
The fact that she had done so without even thinking spoke volumes about just how distressed she had been, and how much of a scared foal she had felt herself to be.
And now, in the afternoon of the day after, Twilight Sparkle was feeling just fine.
She had a plan.
She had better than that.
She had a backup plan.
She had better than that.
She had a backup backup plan.
And, if that were not enough, she now had contingency plans, avenues of investigation to pursue, and reams of research to perform to facilitate all of those primary, backup, and contingency plans. There would be books to read and lists to make. Probably even flowcharts and graphs. Just thinking about it all was making her giddy and put a spring in her step despite the extra weight she carried.
She was going to be a mother.
Her academic career would take a blow, but she knew that having a child came with its own unparalleled rewards, lessons, and achievements. This was not a loss. No. It was a trade, of one sort of good life for another; a trade she had committed herself to. And, just perhaps, it was to be a favourable one.
Twilight had no illusions about her future. Raising a child was going to be difficult and time-consuming. There would be moments of pain and heartache to balance out the joy and laughter. There would be tears and sleepless nights to contrast the songs and sunny days. There would be work with no reward in sight.
But there would be rewards, in watching her daughter grow, in knowing that Twilight had made the ultimate contribution to the world: the existence of another pony. One idea in particular tickled her fancy: She would have the opportunity to be a teacher. School time composed only a fraction of any child’s life. The greatest source of knowledge for any foal inevitably came from that foal’s caretakers, and Twilight would be accorded both the opportunity and responsibility of molding a young mind. The mare resolved to be the best teacher she could be. Hope sprang that her daughter might be blessed with the same love of learning as her mother, but whether she would be a gifted student, simply an average one, or even one with special needs, Twilight would do everything in her power to help Little Cadance reach her full potential, and support her, always.
Twilight’s friends, in turn, would support her.
And therein lay an ancillary plan, which was to be set into motion immediately: She would tell her friends the truth.
Her mind flashed back to the conversation still fresh in her memory.
“You don’t have to lie to them,” Shining Armor insisted. “Just say that it’s something you can’t talk about. Anypony who’s a real friend will respect that.”
“But holding back like that would mean that I don’t respect them. It’s dishonest. It’s not what a real friend would do.”
“What if one of them decides to tell somepony?” the stallion argued. “It’ll be in all the papers the next day.”
“Last night you wanted to marry me! Now you’re worried about ponies finding out about us?”
“It’s not the same thing. If we go public with our relationship, it should be on our own terms, whenever we decide we’re ready.” He sighed. “Twiley, I just... I just don’t want everypony to find out about us through rumours and gossip because somepony decided to go behind our backs.”
Cadance chimed in. “I don’t think our Ponyville friends would do that, Shine. They’re good ponies. They’ll understand how important this is, and how serious the consequences would be if our secret got out.”
“So you agree that I should tell them?” Twilight asked.
The alicorn hesitated a moment before answering. “That’s up to you, Twilight. Social taboos can run very deep. They may not approve, and if they can’t accept our relationship... we may end up losing them as friends.”
“You... you really think that might happen?”
Twilight shook her head, hoping to banish the cold that suddenly permeated through to her muscles in spite of the sun on her coat and the borrowed scarf she was still wearing.
Her conclusion was firm. She wouldn’t hold the truth back from her friends. They needed to be able to make an informed decision, and a lie – even a lie of omission – risked tainting their friendship forever.
Hiding her incestuous romance with Shining Armor had become second nature over the years, but that was a categorically different matter. Sexual intercourse was something she did in private, with the blinds drawn and an alarm spell on the front door. It was her rightful secret because it did not involve anypony but her and her brother – and, eventually, Cadance. Twilight had no obligation to reveal when or with whom she coupled.
But now, the evidence of her illicit relationship would quite literally be running around, and the fact that a stallion was involved would be undeniable and unavoidable. His identity would forever be the elephant in the room whenever one of her friends and Little Cadance were together – and that was something Twilight desperately wished for; Pinkie or Fluttershy babysitting her, Rainbow Dash boasting to her, Rarity and Applejack inspiring her. She could think of no better role models for a young filly.
And so, after much thought, Twilight had determined that she would tell them all, one at a time. The only remaining question was which to tell first.
Having quickly eliminated both Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash for their emotionality and unpredictability, Twilight was left with three choices for her initial confession.
Fluttershy would be the pony most likely to respond non-threateningly, but her natural conflict-avoidance could prove less than helpful in getting solid opinion or advice. Applejack, in all probability, held the most practical perspective, and could assist Twilight in formulating solid, rational plans. Yet, the fact that the earth pony had an older brother of her own confounded the situation. With how much tradition and family meant to her, she could react very badly to Twilight’s revelation, and possessed both physical and verbal strength to back it.
In Rarity lay an appealing combination of both. The fashionista held herself to a high standard of civility and manners. Even if she was offended, she would not outright attack Twilight. She was also good with ponies, and could offer knowledge of how their remaining friends would take the news. Plus, on a purely pragmatic level, she was the only pony who already knew for certain that Twilight was pregnant, and was undoubtedly impatient to hear how her Canterlot journey had played out.
Rarity would be the first to know.
Or not.
“Twilight!”
Having barely set a hoof in the library, the mare was granted only a precious few seconds to prepare for the fast-approaching ball of purple and green headed her way. Spike’s stubby legs carried him with prodigious speed, bounding the last few feet in a desperate lunge at Twilight’s neck, where a vice-grip hug firmly attached purple dragon to purple pony.
“I was so worried, I mean, you just up and left for Canterlot, and you didn’t tell me because I wasn’t here and you were in such a hurry and Rarity was worried about you, too, but she wouldn’t tell me why you went and I kept asking and she said it was something very personal and that you made her promise not to tell anypony and that you’d be back soon but she couldn’t tell me when you’d be back and I wanted to write to the Princess asking about you but Rarity said that wasn’t a good idea and that I should just wait and she even offered to let me stay over at her place for the night and I knew that was a bad sign because she never does that and then I decided to stay here but I was all alone, well, except for Owlowiscious, but when I tried talking to him about it he didn’t even remember you and then I fell asleep and I had a bad dream–”
“Spike,” she interrupted as gently as she could.
Her dragon assistant’s eyes were watering.
The now all-too-familiar feeling of guilt bubbled up as she realised her mistake.
“Spike,” Twilight repeated, nuzzling him. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you anything before I left. I was just in such a rush and I needed to see the princess in person as soon as I could, I didn’t even think. It was wrong of me. I should’ve left a note or something so that you wouldn’t be so worried.”
The dragon released her at last, wiping his nose with the back of a claw. “It’s... it’s alright.” He rocked slightly, alternately balancing on his toes and his heels. “I mean, I wasn’t panicking or crying or anything like that. I was just... you, know, a little worried, is all.”
Twilight allowed herself a little smile at her assistant’s faux-bravery, her forehoof playfully attempting to mess up his head frill, which merely sproinged back into place like always.
“So... why did you go to Canterlot?” he asked, trepidation fully abandoning his voice as the mare made her way into the library, hung up her scarf, and deposited a couple of souvenirs of her Canterlot visit on a nearby shelf. “What was so important that you had to see the princess?”
The questions gave her pause. She nearly facehoofed.
Spike – not Rarity – needed to be the first to know. She had been so preoccupied with thoughts of how her pony friends would react that she had neglected to even consider her closest dragon friend, nor had she contemplated how to explain all of this to him. The only thing she knew for certain was that she could not lie.
Dragons aged differently from ponies, but as well as Twilight could deduce, he was still a child. Nevertheless, she had personally seen to it that Spike’s education had been comprehensive, with no topic being a taboo. He knew where foals came from and – at least on a basic level – what sex was, and understood the connection between the two concepts. There was a solid foundation to work from.
She arranged two floor pillows and motioned for Spike to sit beside her. A quick application of the calming breath technique to summon up necessary courage, and she was ready to begin.
“Spike, I’m pregnant.”
Mild surprise flitted across his face. “Oh.” He examined Twilight’s midsection more closely, then scratched his head. “I thought you were just eating too much.”
The unicorn couldn’t help a small laugh. “Well, at least that makes two of us.”
The little dragon chuckled back. “Hey, that’s great news!” His eyes took on an excited sparkle. “You’re gonna be a mom! So is that what you went to talk to the Princess about?”
Twilight nodded. “That’s right. I didn’t plan on this happening. It was sort of an accident. I only found out yesterday so it was a pretty big surprise to me, and I needed advice on what to do. That and... I had to tell the father.” She steeled her nerves, trying to prepare for any reaction as the truth drew closer.
“So who is it?”
“Now, Spike, I need you to understand: This needs to be just between you and me for now, and you can’t tell anypony what I’m about to tell you. Our friends will find out soon enough, but I need to be the one to tell them. Promise me?”
Spike nodded resolutely and drew a cross over his heart.
Twilight took another deep breath. “What I’ve done isn’t... socially acceptable. And I’ll understand if you don’t feel comfortable with it. I know a lot of ponies wouldn’t be, which is why it’s important to keep the identity of the father a secret from anypony but our closest friends.”
“It’s Shining Armor, right?” the dragon guessed. “He’s the only pony I know you’ve been having sex with.”
“That’s right, and although incest is a pretty big taboo, the important thing is that nopony got hurt becau– Wait, WHAT?!” Twilight rocketed to her hooves, her jaw hanging agape. “How do you know about that?!”
The dragon recoiled. “Oh, uh... um...” A nervous chuckle emitted from his lips.
“Spike...!”
“It wasn’t my fault!” he asserted, rising to his feet with quickly mounting confidence. “It’s not like I wanted to see you and Shining going at it! It was pretty gross...”
Though it should have been impossible, Twilight’s jaw somehow dropped lower. “You saw...? Wh– when?!” she managed at last, still leaning forward on her hooftips, forcing Spike to scoot back to avoid a nose-to-nose assault.
“Okay, calm down. You remember Hearth’s Warming Eve? The last one we had before moving to Ponyville?”
Twilight remembered. Her cheeks were already heating up.
“Well, I came home early that afternoon.”
“So you just decided to sneak around and spy on me?!” she demanded, mortification and indignation fighting a battle for supremacy.
The little dragon’s arms crossed as he shot back a defiant glare. “That’s not it at all! I came home before you did. When you walked in you had your nose in a book. I said ‘Hi’ and asked you about your day but you didn’t even answer me. You just kept reading, like I wasn’t even there!”
The unicorn slowly backed off.
Spike’s frown was deepening. “So I went upstairs to do some cleaning and let you do your thing. After a while Shining Armor came in. You noticed him!” Here the dragon’s head turned to the side, eyes downcast and lips in an angry pout. “And you... you told him there was nopony else home. Even though I was right upstairs and I could hear everything...”
Twilight fell back onto her pillow in limp shock. “Oh, Spike... I... I’m so sorry...”
“Yeah, well...” He waved a claw in a meaningless gesture, still refusing to look directly at her.
“How... how much did you hear... see?”
“Enough to know your favourite position,” he stated bitterly, disgust in his voice.
Twilight’s ears pressed down and she gave a noticeable wince.
Spike was, in many ways, like a little brother to her, and she had hurt him – on more than one level. And, now that she considered it, on many other occasions. It was a pattern, she realised; not of outright maliciousness, but of simple thoughtlessness, and it wasn’t directed specifically at her number one assistant, but his proximity meant that he was the one who suffered most from it. Too often Twilight simply took Spike for granted, and forgot about him when he wasn’t needed. She needed to look no further than today for an example.
So much for all that stuff Cadance had said.
‘I’m an amazing pony, all right. Amazingly thoughtless.’
“Hey.” Spike jolted her out of her unpleasant reflection. “Don’t get all misty-eyed on me. It’s okay. I got over it.” He presented a small but friendly smile, which Twilight slowly found herself returning. “I was a little freaked out at first, ’cause, you know... I’d never actually seen that before... plus it was you two. And you were really going at it. I mean, those books you gave me never talked about all the sounds ponies make. I didn’t even know you could moan like that, and then when Shining bit your ear and you just kept telling him you wanted to go faster, and then your horn–”
“Spike!” Twilight’s horror was split between the vividness of the description, and the unsettling way the dragon seemed to actually be enjoying telling it.
He grinned, making it clear that it was the unicorn’s current discomfort that was his source of entertainment.
Twilight glared.
“But I got used to the idea. I figure what you and Shining do in bed is your business. Just as long as you don’t make me watch. Or listen. Again.”
Twilight felt her lips curl upward, and a foreleg extended out. Spike accepted the invitation without delay, drawn easily into another hug. The unicorn sighed. “Spike, I need you to add an item to my to-do list.”
“Sure. What is it?”
“We need to figure out how I’m going to make all of this up to you, and reward you for being so mature and understanding. Hopefully in some way that doesn’t turn you into a rampaging monster again, but I’m sure we can come up with something.”
Spike laughed. “I think you have a slot open on Friday.” After breaking the embrace, his attention landed again on the pregnant unicorn’s belly. “So, you really have a little pony in there?”
Twilight nodded.
“Uh, can I?” Spike’s purple claw hovered tentatively.
Twilight turned slightly to provide him better access. “Sure.”
In truth, one of her biggest worries had been that Spike might be permanently disgusted by her, knowing what she had done and the nature of the child she carried, but the young dragon was showing not even a hint of such feelings now. He appeared quite fascinated as his tiny claw pressed against her coat.
“So, do you know if it’s a colt or filly?”
“A filly. I had a check-up and they’re pretty certain about that.”
“Do you ever feel her move or anything?”
A knowing, half-lidded grin washed across Twilight’s face. “A little to the left,” she instructed softly. “Good. Now, just wait a minute.”
Spike’s questioning glance went unanswered. He appeared ready to say something, but eventually decided against it and simply waited as directed.
And then:
“Whoah!” He jumped back in surprise. “Was that really...?”
“Yes, it was,” the unicorn answered with a hint of pride.
“How’d you know that was going to happen?”
Twilight’s own hoof circled the swell. “For a little filly who hasn’t even been born yet, she keeps to a pretty tight schedule.”
“I wonder who she gets that from...” Spike noted with a wry smirk. He placed both claws on her belly, the touch still careful but much less timid than before. There was another kick, to which the young dragon gave an excited laugh. “Tell me again how exactly you didn’t notice this before?”
Twilight’s eyes turned up in annoyance. “Don’t remind me. I have a real talent for ignoring the obvious.”
“That’s true,” Spike confirmed, not paying much attention to the scowl it brought forth. “Wait, does this mean I get to be an uncle?” His tone made it more of a request than a question.
“‘Uncle Spike’?” Twilight looked over the expectant dragon and considered the idea. His eagerness was palpable, and he didn’t need to say another word to make clear his complete support and loyalty.
The mother-to-be felt another bit of weight lift from her heart. No matter what happened from this point on, she had at least one friend in Ponyville.
Really, the most important one.
“That sounds great,” she agreed. “Cadance could really use an uncle to help me take care of her.”
“Cadance?”
“Little Cadance,” she specified, indicating her belly. “I decided to name her after Princess Cadance, since she’s been really supportive of me and Shining.”
“Figures.”
“It doesn’t surprise you that Cadance knows?”
Spike merely shrugged. “She’s like... the Princess of Love, isn’t she? She always goes on about how ‘love knows no boundaries’. I figured you and Shining told her years ago and she was cool with it.”
Twilight suppressed another facehoof as she recalled the real story of Cadance ‘being told’ about her incestuous affair with Shining.
“Close enough,” she said, saving that particular tale for another time.
“So, what’s the plan now?”
“The plan... is that tomorrow is Replan Day.” Seeing her assistant’s confused tilt, she exuberantly elaborated, “We’re going to research how much time I’m going to need to get ready for the foal, and how much will be required after she’s born, factoring in certain variances of course. Based on those estimates, we’ll construct a new study schedule for the next six months, and submit it as a proposal to Princess Celestia. If she approves – which I’m certain she will – we will be organised and prepared all the way until summer starts. We’ll also need to put together a reading list: All the relevant books on pregnancy and foalcare. We’ll work my reading them into the new schedule. A foal is a huge responsibility, and I’m going to be ready for it!”
The unicorn stood tall and dauntless with her declaration, he eyes ashimmer and her mane flowing in a heroic, though nonexistent, breeze.
“Doesn’t that sound like fun?” she excitedly questioned her scaly companion.
“Uh, yeah. Can’t wait,” Spike deadpanned. “That’s tomorrow, though... what about the rest of today?”
“Today... I have a... genetic sample to analyse,” Twilight euphemised, certain that she had already exceeded her quota of blushes for the week. “And I need to go talk to Rarity to let her know everything’s fine. In fact, I should probably do that first.”
Something stirred within her. And, now that she had gained some experience properly categorising her body’s messages, she knew it wasn’t the baby.
“But... I wouldn’t mind a quick snack before I go. I kinda skipped breakfast today.”
“What about all those donuts from Joe’s?” Spike asked.
Twilight could only stare dumbfounded.
The dragon tapped his nose. Dragons had a better-developed sense of smell than ponies.
“Oh. Sorry about that. I’m... I’m eating for two, okay?” She was definitely over-quota now. “I’ll bring some back for you next time I go. But you can go and pick up a treat for yourself from Sugarcube Corner later. Right now...”
Cadance’s concerns bubbled forth to her consciousness. Anything Twilight consumed, her baby would as well. “What’s the healthiest thing we have?”
Spike’s left eye squinted in thought, while a claw scratched at his cheek. “There’s a spinach and strawberry salad in the fridge. I made it yesterday so it should still be–”
“I’ll take it!” Twilight said, trying not to loose any spit from her already-watering mouth.
“Heh. Coming right up!” With that, Spike took to the kitchen, the cacophony of dishware and utensils soon following.
Momentarily alone, Twilight lay back down and took a deep whiff of the aroma surrounding her. Wood, parchment, paper, ink... She emptied her lungs in a contended sigh. The titles encircling her sent out their textual greetings; invitations and salutations for their rightful mistress. Even the sounds, imperceptible to anypony who wasn’t tuned to listen, bade her welcome; the occasional groan or squeak of books settling on their shelves as the temperature or humidity changed.
Those familiar sounds lay underneath the more immediate noises of her loyal assistant – her friend – Spike, happily working away like always, whistling some popular tune while he did, as if nothing had changed between them.
Because it hadn’t.
“Spike?” she called out.
The dragon’s head appeared in the doorway, ready for further instruction.
Twilight smiled. “It’s good to be home.”