Twilight materialized within her bedroom, her mind still reeling from what had just happened. She stumbled over to her bedside, trying to keep from shaking at what she was certain was an impending panic attack. She forced the thoughts to the back of her mind, centering her twitching legs and pulling herself up to her full height. She took a calm, steady breath and prepared herself for the clearing her mind, just as Cadance had shown her. All of the thoughts of guilt and animal fear and pathos for her spell’s victim drained away from her, leaving her spirit blank and calm as a summer’s day.
And that was when the darkest and ugliest of her thoughts chose to crawl back into her brain and scream itself at her: Princess Celestia could have eaten her alive. The pony she loved most could have made her into mince meat and eaten her for dinner. A single spell was all it took to turn her from loved one to lunch, so little was she to the pony she had loved since before the day she had found her cutie mark. And why not? She was the one responsible, after all. It was her failure, her petty request turned sour that had chained the Princess to the waking nightmare of living life as that pony-eating monster.
The dam broke, her steady pose and logic being overtaken by quivering horror. She sank down to the floor, her breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. Her hooves wrapped around her forehead, forming a token attempt to protect her from what strange demons lurked around the edges of her mind. She pressed her limbs down against her braincase, making a token attempt to massage the fears away. You’re nothing but a snack to her. “Stop,” Twilight pleaded. You made her a monster. “Stop.” You took away her kingdom. You took away her freedom. “Stop stop stop!”
“Twilight Sparkle?” A voice broke through the darkness, pulling Twilight away from her vicious cycle and back towards rationality. She looked up, her hooves parting to allow her eyes to view the approaching pony. Princess Luna took gentle steps toward her, looking grave. “You are troubled. Are you hurt?” Luna scanned the prostate scholar, eyes picking up an injury on the back of her leg. She gestured to the bruised kneecap. “Was that Celestia?”
“This?” Twilight stared back at her leg. “No, I just banged into a bedframe. But the Princess, she—” Twilight shook her head, shuddering again.
“She…?” Luna was patient, if distant.
“I can’t do anything for her, Luna. The terror birds, they’re immune to magic. We need an archaeologist who knows something about their biology more than we need me. And the Princess herself. She’s hungry. Her stomach kept growling, and when I tried to get close to her she hissed at me. She started hissing, and so I knew I had to get her some food. And now I’m just trying to…” Twilight swallowed. “Trying to get my head around what all just happened, I guess.”
Luna pursed her lips. “That did not seem like ‘getting one’s head around’ things to mine own eyes.”
Twilight responded to this by taking a sudden interest in the room around her, noting almost immediately that a) she had inadvertently teleported to her bedroom and b) said bedroom was no longer hers. The room was filled with scrolls, charts and missives. Pens sat proudly in inkpots along polished desks. Where telescopes once sat there were now shelves stacked with letters. Books on magical theory, applied sciences, maths and astronomy had been replaced by ones on politics, manners and leadership and style. The shelf filled with Daring Do and mediocre romance novels, however, had if anything expanded in size since the room had been under her control. But the feature of the room that struck Twilight as most notable was Celestia’s insignia. The mark was over the desk, upon the letters and scrolls and on either side of the door.
“Twilight?” Luna cut off Twilight’s impromptu inspection with a look of concern. “Am I troubling you?” Luna’s voice said she was angry and disappointed, but Twilight’s quick glance at her eyes revealed that the other pony was filled with concern.
“I’m fine. I just need to get to the kitchens and then I can go back, apologize to the Princess for freaking out and get back to work on fixing my screw up.” Twilight attempted to walk forward, but Luna held out a wing and levelled her gaze at Twilight.
“‘Fine’ does not describe you, Twilight Sparkle. We found you quivering like a foal over what appears to be—from your very own description—nought but a growling stomach and some noises you had not heard before. A guard pursuing her reported her to have done as much and came away from her with a pat on the head for his troubles, and yet with a few strange sounds my sister has bested the saviour of Equestria five times over.” Luna concluded her thoughts by raising an eyebrow, her look changing from stern to expectant.
“Luna, uhm,” Twilight thought of how to politely withhold what little tact she had. She opted for lowering her voice and dropping her mask with all the subtlety of a bag of bricks falling onto a percussion orchestra. “These days, when somebody says ‘I’m fine’ in response to you saying ‘what’s wrong’ they mean ‘I’m not comfortable talking about it’.” She gave a sheepish grin.
Luna tilted her head. “Seems a silly practice to me. Wounds not dressed only fester with time.” Twilight looked like she was going to disagree, so Luna cut her off shortly and sharply. “A fact my very own history should make abundantly clear. This is especially true with my sister, who is happy enough to hide a conflict until it absolutely cannot be ignored. And it seems to me, Twilight Sparkle, that my sister is the root of thine ills, and this conflict can no longer be ignored.” Her eyes softened. “Will you not let me help?”
Twilight stood up, shakily at first, but at the very least with a degree of control over herself. Her wings dropped to the floor, and she drew a circle with one hoof along the ground. “I… I do want your help, Luna. Of course I do. I mean, you’re my friend, and I’d love some help in all of this anyway. It’s obvious I’m not really qualified for the whole ‘dealing with terror birds’ thing, so I’ll take whatever I can get. But I do know a lot about Princess Celestia. But I do want you to stop asking me about how I feel about the Princess.” Twilight looked directly into the centre of Luna’s gaze. The lunar diarch noted that there was a peculiar mix of commandment and pleading in the other mare’s tone. “You don’t really know anything about me, Luna. Not about this, at least. I-in fact, you don’t really know anything about us, either. And because you don’t know anything about us, you don’t know anything about how to fix what’s wrong between us right now. So please, just help me with things I want you to help me with. Alright?”
Luna sighed, throwing out her wings in exasperation. “What, then, do you propose we do, Twilight Sparkle?”
Twilight herself also sighed, looking at her hooves. She shook her head, then turned to look over Luna’s shoulder towards the hallway nearby. “We need to find something Celestia can eat, and I’m guessing for that we’ll need some of the food we usually save for the carnivore nations Equestria is allies with. The griffons, in particular, I’m going to assume are the people we need to talk to. After that, I’ll have to talk to a friend of mine about finding a way to help Celestia come to grips with her new form and body. Okay?”
Luna gave a terse nod. “And what do you need us to do?”
“Just—just take over for Celestia for a little while, basically. I think,” Twilight’s brow creased, and her pupils narrowed in determination, “the best way we can manage this mess is to have Celestia take over dreams for a while so that you can work in the day. She’ll still have her own body in her mind, and you’ll be able to take her place in the day court. Does that sound alright?”
“We suppose ‘tis another burden we must bear for our sister’s folly, but bear it we shall.”
Twilight’s eyes narrowed, but she smiled and nodded afterward. “Good. Hopefully you’ll like it as much as you’ve said you would in the past. I may not be able to do much with magic, but I’ve learned from past experience that I can still do organizing well even when I’d normally be useless. So I’ll find a way to get her a consistent food supply and then I’ll go find somepony who’s better qualified to look after her.” Twilight stood up, straightened herself and walked past Luna as if nothing had happened.
She only made it to the door before Luna’s voice reached her ears. “Remember this well, Twilight Sparkle: My sister needs not another worshipper denying her faults. Such reverence only brings misery to her and her admirers. If you love her as much as your acts suggest, you will curb your naked idolization of her and replace your fantasy of her with reality.”
Twilight forced herself to smile, turning to face her vexing friend. “Thank you for your concern, Luna.” With that, the alicorn disappeared in a flash of purple light.
---／人◕ ‿‿ ◕人＼---
Celestia was sitting atop her bed when Twilight returned, a pen and paper once again in her claws. The rays of setting sun that had been shining through the windows of Celestia’s balcony had been replaced by the cool darkness of sundown, which draped the room in shadow. Despite this, Celestia seemed to be an ocean of calm at the moment, her eyes focused upon the sheet of paper in her claws. The study’s floor was clean, the pages that had once been scattered upon it now resting in an orderly pile. The feathers, splinters of wood and fragments of gold had been removed, though where they had gone Twilight couldn’t say. Celestia herself was settled upon the bed. Calculated movements and clicks of Celestia’s talons worked the paper, and where before they had been jerky and erratic now the movement of her claws was focused and patient, if not graceful. Celestia raised her head to look at Twilight, giving a quiet warble and raising the whisker-like feathers around her muzzle. The younger alicorn abruptly connected the expression with a sensation of deja vu, though she could not rightly place where the face was familiar to her.
Twilight set down an elegant, creamy white bag emblazoned with the logo of the Griffonian Empire, looking sheepish. “Sorry I took so long, Princess. I just had to think on what I was going to do about all of the...this.” She gestured towards Celestia’s current body with a shaky hoof. Celestia remained quiet, keeping her gaze solidly upon her work. Twilight felt the silence radiating from the bed. She pursed her lips. “I mean, I know I wasn’t very reasonable, panicking like I did. But, I mean, I panic when somebody doesn’t spread the icing on cupcakes right.” She gave a nervous chuckle, and the skin around Celestia’s beak tightened in response. Twilight wasn’t sure what that meant, so she pressed on. “It’s not that I’m scared of you, I promise. It’s just the situation.” Celestia gave a quiet nod at this, continuing on writing. Twilight winced, but pushed forward in her thinking anyway.
“I’m not, I—” Twilight sighed, knowing this was going nowhere in a hurry. “Never mind. I did come up with a plan, if you’d like to hear it.” Celestia at last looked up from her writing, and Twilight internally breathed a sigh of relief. “First, I got you some food from the Griffon Emissary’s place. I made sure it was fish, so it’s not like you’re eating pigs and sheep or anything.” Twilight pursed her lips. “I’m not sure if you can eat that, but it’s worth a try, right?” She levitated the bag over to the bed. Celestia set down her pen, opening up the bag with a flick of her claws. Though she still shredded the lining, Celestia appeared to have a good deal more control and dexterity than she had had at Twilight’s departure.
Celestia opened the bag and peered inside, her tiny avian nostrils flaring. She pulled her head back, making a noise deep within her throat that came across as a guttural mixture of laughter and groaning. She shook her head, shutting her eyes and wrinkling her face at what she had found within. “I know, I know, it smells awful. But at this point it’s...it’s the best thing I can do.” The tone of Twilight’s voice dragged Celestia from her thoughts, for it was not judgement or weariness that reached her ears, but guilt and apology.
Celestia looked up from the bag. Her face twitched, the whisker-like bristles around her mouth and eyes once spreading out. This expression, however, was one that Twilight was not completely clueless regarding the nature of. It was an expression she dimly registered she had seen countless times on the face of a bird she knew from somewhere. It was also, her memory was now telling her, the avian equivalent of a smile. Twilight responded in kind by smiling back. Bristle feathers still spread, the terror bird looked down into the bag again and gave a sniff. Her avian nostrils flared, and she slowly lowered her head down to look at the food. It was then that Twilight’s memory jogged, and she knew exactly which bird she had seen pull that face so often in her presence. This also reminded her about the eating habits of her feathered friend, and how they would apply to Celestia now. Twilight cleared her throat. “Um, Princess, there’s something you should know about birds. I’ve seen Owlowiscious eat before, and it’s not like the way that ponies do. Birds can’t swallow things with their beaks. You’ll need to use your beak to position the food so that it will fall down your throat when you let go. Also, if what you break off is too big, you can’t just chew it into pieces. They use their beak-tips to pull big food apart, but I’m sure cutlery would work fine.”
Celestia looked uncertain, but gave Twilight another shaky smile. Twilight, for her part, took this as a sign to approach. Fear still reigned her in, however, and she stopped just short of the bed. She noted, absently, that lying in an orderly pile just beneath the covers of the bed was a pile of discarded papers. “Umm, Princess? Can I ask you something?” Celestia nodded, looking back down into the bag at the cold slices of salmon. “When you—err—hissed at me—and when you squawked. What was that about?” Celestia gripped the pen without skipping a beat. Quick motions of her wrist showed a confidence Twilight hadn’t seen when she had last visited the polymorphed princess. The bird gripped the paper in its two talons, then slowly turned it to face Twilight. The words “worried about you” stood out much more visibly than they had before.
Twilight pulled back in disbelief, her eyes flicking away to stare at the pile of paper stacked beside the bed. For the first time she noticed just how many discarded and shredded papers Celestia had assembled. The pile was nearly up to her ankle. Twilight frowned, then looked back to her Princess. “Worried about me? I’m the one who got you in this mess. You shouldn’t have to go to all this effort when I should be able to fix what’s happened to you anyway.” Celestia smiled again, flipping the paper back around to write once more. She then stood up, walking slowly and carefully towards her dresser. Twilight stopped to help her this time, making sure to reach a wing around the giant’s back and keep her fully balanced. Celestia, in turn, made her ponderous way over to her dresser, quickly grabbing up something from amongst makeup and a collection of photos. The solar diarch handed Twilight the paper and the object, which was concealed within.
Twilight unraveled the paper, which simply had a picture of Celestia and Twilight together at the Gala, smiling together for one of several cameraponies. Celestia’s smile was as gentle and patient as always, and Twilight’s was wide and enthusiastic. The paper the photo rested upon contained Celestia’s “worried about you” still, but also had a single word added at the bottom and underlined: Faithful. Twilight froze up. “But... but you have so many guards and scholars and, and all of them are faithful to you, same as me.”
Celestia only shook her head, giving what sounded like quick, sharp caws in succession. She quickly covered her beak, crest feathers flaring wide. She shook her head once more, grabbing Twilight’s hoof in a claw and guiding it to the word. Then she took the hoof and moved it over her own chest, and then back to the word she had written below. Celestia’s bristle feathers flared out again. Twilight’s eyes widened in comprehension, and her mouth fell open. “I… thank you, Princess.” Her voice grew small and distant. “Thank you.” She whispered again, this time down towards her muzzle. Celestia lifted up her chin with a claw, then let go of Twilight’s hoof and grabbed the paper and photo from Twilight. Celestia set the photo down gently and moved the paper out from under it. The claw under Twilight’s chin trailed away to grab a pen, and soon Twilight was faced with a new message. “Help me eat?” it read.
Twilight looked up at the creature in front of her. The creature that could have swallowed half her body several times over. The creature that every one of her fears was telling her was an instinct-driven ambush predator willing to tear her limb from limb at the slightest touch. The creature with claws on its legs long enough to slice her to pieces with a flick of their toe claws. Twilight walked up to the towering creature and grabbed the paper from it with her mouth, then used a hoof to move its talon over top of the page. While external appearances and her most primal emotions would tell her it was a monster acting inexplicably gentle around her, her heart instantly leapt to stand by the belief that it was all Celestia inside that mountain of bird, and the evidence continued to suggest that was the case. Celestia warbled softly at the word her talon was now pointing at, and gently ran her other claw along the side of Twilight’s face.
“Faithful.”