She’s beautiful, no doubt about that. It’s almost a natural law of its own - Gravity is a constant force, magic flows through the ground and air and rivers, and Twilight Sparkle is gorgeous. She smiles sheepishly and walks regally into the throne room. Her legs shake with nervous energy, and her wings haven’t relaxed from the fight response they’ve been stuck in for the last hour. The door slams and she slumps gratefully, exhausted, onto the marble tiles.
Luna’s there in a second, helping to pull her out of the beribboned coronation dress. Twilight twitches her head up when Luna’s magic grazes her coat, and Luna blushes, almost hides. She’s an idiot, should have asked first. Even after two years back she’s a mess when it comes to other ponies.
“Sorry…” she blurts, shuffling backwards a bit. “The dress doesn’t look comfortable right … now…” She scratches one foreleg with the other and flicks her ears, fluffs her wings, looks at the ceiling. Anything but Twilight’s face. Luna couldn’t bear to see that lovely face screwed up in confusion or derision or pity. She gets enough of that from Celestia these days…
But Twilight is standing now, smiling angelically, and something in Luna melts and pools in her stomach, her chest, her hooves, her wings. She rides the wonderful buzz of it, smiling a bit in return “I would’ve liked you to ask first, but it was really sweet of you to offer,” Twilight says, and Luna grins feeling lighter than she has in a while, almost checks her hooves to make sure they’re still on the ground. Instead she helps with the many ties and ruffles and buckles and zippers in the coronation dress, blissfully twitching whenever her power and Twilight’s power overlap.
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She’s become such a beautiful pony in such a short time. It’s impressive how different she is now than her years at the academy. She laughs and swaps jokes with Fancy Pants, daintily lifting another forkful of eggplant to her mouth, following it with a napkin. She’s sitting straighter than she ever has at any formal function, no doubt from time spent with Rarity, but that’s not the real surprise. She’s enjoying conversation from complete strangers seated near her, smiling effortlessly. Not four years ago, that face was locked in a permanent frown. But now? Now, her eyes dance, Now, her voice carries a vibrant luster, a shimmering energy that sends shivers down Celestia’s neck. Nopony notices - Centuries of masking emotion have made her an expert, but it takes all that practice to keep a straight face with a pleasant expression. Tonight, Twilight Sparkle shines, and Celestia’s sweating lightly. Will she be blinded by that light?
“ … Tariffs could be reconsidered?” Celestia turns with all the smooth grace she doesn’t feel and looks the noblemare in the eye. Something to do with rocks? Semiprecious …. Right.
“Lady Garnett, I will take your concerns into consideration,” Celestia says warmly, smiling slightly. It’s her standard response to these situations, an easy escape. She rarely uses it - her citizens’ concerns do mean a lot to her. But then Twilight laughs and she’s lost again, floating, drowning in a river of emotions.
“If you’ll excuse me for a moment?” She glances around the table. Nopony denies her. She’s the princess, the Sun. Of course they don’t. She trots over to where Twilight sits, sipping a glass of fine red.
“Twilight?” she puts on a casual smile, wider than most of the table has ever seen from her. Centuries of practice help with the easy, playful edge it grants her. Her heart is stampeding, making mad rushes up her throat. “Would you walk with me a while?”
Twilight excuses herself graciously and joins her in a heartbeat. They go out the doors to the gardens, breathing the fresh spring air. Celestia clenches her jaw and changes course, coming an inch closer to Twilight’s side. Twilight glances at her before eyeing a large oak tree nearby and flopping under it, rolling in the grass, a splay-legged filly. Celestia smiles and joins her, staining herself green and hoping against hope that her nerves will soak into the ground. Some of them trickle away.
“What’s going on, Prin-- Umm … Celestia?” Twilight’s looking at her, and her eyes beneath the full moon are breathtaking.
Celestia swallows and centers herself. “Twilight, there’s something I need to put into the air, and I hope you’ll hear me out …”
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They’re sitting beneath a tree, just talking. And Luna feels ridiculous for following them out here, feels ridiculous for the cool relief that washes through her when she notices the three hooflengths between them. Nervously, she moves closer, hating herself for each step forward. She should let them have their privacy. But that aching desire inside her will burn her up, and the way the starlight shines across Twilight Sparkle’s hair is so truly wonderful she has to take a closer look.
The crickets are quieter than usual, and little washes of conversation drift across the grass to the bush she’s standing behind, just tall enough to meet her chest.
“… pressure you, ever. Just …” That’s Celestia, concerned. there’s silence for a painful minute, then Twilight caresses Celestia’s shapely foreleg with a tender affection that sends hornets down Luna’s throat and into her stomach and clenching chest. Her ears perk forward shamefully, and her eyes narrow in on Twilight’s opening mouth, intent.
“.... love you…” Twilight’s saying more, but it’s all Luna needs to hear. Of course it’s true, of course it’s Celestia. Celestia’s bright and kind and gentle and warm and everything she herself isn’t, could never be. Celestia could never stop talking about Twilight when they broke their fasts together. Always Twilight this, Twilight that… How could she not have seen? How could she have been so stupid?
--TIME--
Luna throws herself into a thicket and cries, stifling her sobs in her painful throat, the branches and thorns around her scratching at her sides. But she can’t be too loud. She might disturb them. Hoofsteps. They know. Gentle magic, Twilight’s magic, pulling her out from the branches and setting her on the grass. Luna would run, if she had the strength in her legs. Twilight shouldn’t see her like this. Twilight shouldn’t see her at all tonight… Twilight should be where she belongs at Celestia’s side.
“Luna, what’s going on?” Twilight’s frail voice hurts more than her own shattered illusions, another knife in her side. Luna heaves in some breaths and centers herself, some late-blooming tears still chasing others down her cheeks.
“You should go back to Celestia,” Luna rasps. Her throat is sandpaper, scratchy and dry and unpleasant. “I wouldn’t want to ruin a night like this for you…”
“How much did you hear?” Twilight asks, settling down beside her and rubbing her tense shoulders in steady circles.
Luna almost bristles. She almost shouts, or stands up and flies away, almost. But that warm hoof, that gentle touch is holding her steady and still. She can only manage a whimper. “Enough to know you love her,” she sighs. She’s too tired for anything else.
“As a friend, or a sister, or family,” Twilight says, scooting a little closer to Luna. Her body heat is searing Luna’s side. Another whimper. “A few years ago I would have welcomed this,” Twilight continues softly. “I saw so much in her, so much beauty and grace and kindness, so much life, so much confidence. I thought I loved her, then. Maybe I did. But she was unattainable. So far beyond me that I couldn’t think of telling her anything. And then I left, and I changed. So did my feelings.”
Luna looks cautiously at Twilight’s open, lovely face. “Would you be opposed to joining me for dinner sometime?” her voice cracks horribly on the word dinner, and she cringes slightly.
Twilight smiles, and her wings shoot out wildly, making Luna chuckle, then laugh madly for the joy of laughing. She gently eases Twilight’s wings into a resting position with practiced hooves. “That sounds nice,” Twilight admits, blushing.