//------------------------------//
// Chapter 1: Sunsong 
// Story: Someone Else's Sun 
// by LysanderasD 
//------------------------------//


Someone Else's Sun



A My Little Pony fanfic by LysanderasD



Chapter 1: Sunsong



"There, there, dear, it's going to be alright..."

A blanket settled over her shoulders, tucked in and around with utmost care to avoid disturbing her. Her jaw remained on the kitchen table, hooves pressed to her forehead. Celestia trembled, whimpering anew when her horn once again failed to present itself.

That wasn't the only thing missing. Attempts to shrug the blanket away with her wings produced nothing, the lack of their constant, downy warmth against her sides suddenly dreadful in its absence. She had never been without her wings, and the feeling terrified her.

But not as much as the lack of her Sun. Oh, it was up there; she knew it was, had to be. She could feel the warmth as the light passed through one of the kitchen's open windows, warming her snout. She could feel the warmth, but to somepony who had, for a span of time so long it may as well be uncountable, this was a pale imitation of what it felt like to actually feel the Sun. To grasp it in her magic. To comprehend all that it was. She sniffled.

"Are you going to be okay, now?"

And that was another thing, said the rational part of her. Since when does Princess Celestia freak out about anything? Because this qualified as a freak out, she was fairly certain. Twilight would no doubt agree, and, well, there was a mare who knew a thing or two about freak outs. That wasn't to say that the loss of her wings and horn wasn't a big deal, or the fact that the Sun had apparently risen without her guidance was inconsequential, because those were big things and they deserved to be worried about. But... calmly. She had had a thousand years and more to perfect how she reacted to things. She felt angry at herself for breaking down so easily. She had to... figure out what was going on, yes. Solve the problem. Start by gathering as much data as you can, as Twilight would say.

... She sniffled anyway. She had never been without her Sun. It made her feel naked and exposed. Even when Discord had been freed, she had been able to wrest some control back from him, even if only for a moment. This absence, this lack entirely, this was new, and it cut to the core.

"It must have been a terrible nightmare..."

She attempted to scoff. Her runny nose turned it into a mess, which made her groan. Something cottony, warm and dry pressed into her nose. "Blow, please."

She blew. It made her feel like a foal, or what she imagined it felt like to be a foal. How many times had she done something like that for Twilight Sparkle?

"Thank you." The hoofkerchief was removed.

Just the thought of the purple mare began to calm Celestia. She had, it must be said, come to rely a great deal on the young alicorn, even before her ascension. She had a way of getting to the root of problems. She solved problems. It could be said that her life was devoted to solving problems. That was admirable; Celestia had always been proud of her student. Yes. That's enough panicking, you stupid nag, now calm down and solve the problem. Twilight's shown you how to start often enough, hasn't she?

Celestia removed her hooves from her forehead, pressing them against the table as she lifted herself back up. She took a deep breath through her muzzle, and then opened her eyes. When her pink mane obscured her vision, she brushed it out of the way.

Fluttershy's cottage kitchen greeted her, along with the pegasus herself, smiling with that nervous sort of hopefulness that Celestia had come to associate with foals who prayed she wouldn't notice the smashed crystal vase lying in pieces around the room.

For a moment, Celestia felt slightly ill, but now she had a hold of herself and fought the uncomfortable urge back down into place. The pegasus' smile turned more genuine when Celestia nodded, and she set a mug of tea down before Celestia.

"It's your favorite..."

Celestia cleared her throat and attempted to mumble acknowledgment, but the tea was too much to resist. Too, too aware of her missing horn, she reached out with trembling hooves to grasp the mug, inhaling the sweet scent of orange pekoe. Which wasn't her favorite, admittedly, but she did have a fondness for the stuff. After a hesitant sip of the liquid revealed that it was just the proper temperature to drink, she went back for a second before setting the mug down, harder than she'd intended to. The quiet room echoed back the thick thunk of the porcelain. She turned to look at Fluttershy again.

Gentle turquoise eyes. Soft yellow coat. Pink mane, curled slightly at the tip and naturally smooth and soft. A demure beauty, even with the pleased, encouraging smile she was wearing now that her charge was no longer sobbing in terror. So familiar, now. It was like she'd never been gone at all.

I went to your funeral, she wanted to say. Pinkie Pie delivered the eulogy. I'd never seen the earth pony so heartbroken. I watched Rainbow Dash release the doves. It was perfect; just as you'd have wanted it.

But here was the pegasus, very much alive, and not a day older than she had been when Celestia had first seen her, that bright morning in the Castle of Two Sisters. That is important, said the part of her that was still attempting to think like Twilight Sparkle. Add that your list.

One: I am an earth pony and have lost my connection to the Sun.

Two: The Sun still appears to be moving regularly.

Three: Fluttershy is alive.

Four: ... Well, at the rate the morning is going, I'm sure something will be here eventually.

"I'm glad you're feeling better, Sunsong," said Fluttershy gently, and flitted over to the earth pony's side to give a brief, but heartfelt, hug. Celestia lifted a single foreleg to return it, though the pegasus pulled away as she did. "I was really worried for a while."

Sunsong, she'd called Celestia. And while there was certainly a familiarity in the way Fluttershy was treating her, it was most definitely not the same sort of automatic reverence that everypony had given her as an alicorn. Had there ever been a Sunsong? Well, of course there had; she had only the other day been reading a treatise on harmony theory by a mare by that name. But it was an old work; she vaguely recalled that it had been one of the very first things placed in the castle archives in Canterlot. In a way, she found the name flattering. The issue was that it wasn’t her name.

Which meant... what did it mean? There were any number of things wrong with what she was experiencing. But better to play the part—and Celestia knew how to play parts. She just had to ask the correct questions.

"It was only a nightmare, my l..." Celestia checked herself. "... my friend."

Fluttershy blinked. "Um, I meant about the fever, too. You were pretty delirious. And the last dream is always the worst, I've found. But you made it! I'm sure Miss Firefly will be happy to see you awake when she returns."

The gears in Celestia's head momentarily hopped a cog. "Bweh."

Fluttershy's head tilted adorably. Celestia cleared her throat. "... Yes. Firefly. Of course."

Added to the list. "Erm. Moving on, dear Fluttershy, I did not... murmur in my sleep, did I?"

Instead of replying, the pegasus, pursing her lips, reached out a hoof and felt Celestia's forehead. "You feel alright," she said, though she still sounded doubtful. "Why are you talking like that?" There was a momentary pause, and then the meek pony wilted slightly. "Um. If you don't mind my asking."

Celestia blinked. "Talking like what?"

The other pony scuffed at the floor with the hoof that had been on the earth pony's head. "It's just that you're using the voice you use when the Duke is addressing you. That's your servant voice."

Servant voice? Duke?

"You know..." Fluttershy made an encouraging motion with a wing, and then affecting an impression of her voice that sounded bizarre from the shy pegasus, "'Yes, of course, Your Grace.'"

Celestia furrowed her brow. "... I see. But..." She attempted to force some of the habitual propriety from her voice. "Was I murmuring? I really do n—that is to say, I don't recall much. Just a haze, really."

"Oh, yes. It sounded kind of nice, actually." Fluttershy looked to the floor, forehoof tracing small circles on the wood. "Something about princesses and sisters, and you kept mentioning the name Twilight Sparkle. I didn't think you had a sister, Sunsong."

Celestia blinked. "Ah... I see."

"Do you?"

The question startled Celestia. Fluttershy looked genuinely curious, almost… longing, in a way. "Do I what?"

"Have a sister." Immediately the pegasus withdrew again. "Um. Sorry. I shouldn't pry."

"Of course she doesn't," said another voice from outside the kitchen. Celestia stiffened slightly, fighting to keep her expression straight as the door swung open and in stepped another pony.

She knew who it was before she even laid eyes on the mare. A life lived listening to petitioners had given Celestia something of a memory for voices. There were certain ones she never forgot. This one... Well, it was like Fluttershy, in a way, which had in its turn endeared her somewhat to the pegasus. Fluttershy's voice, minus the omnipresent shyness and filled, in its absence, with an abundant, unassuming friendliness, and just a hint of a drawl.

"Posey," murmured Celestia, closing her eyes. Of course. If Fluttershy was here, and Firefly was, what, out for a morning fly, why not include Posey, too?

She didn't need to see the earth pony to remember what she looked like, either, because that, too, was reminiscent of Fluttershy. Her coat was a shade darker, but she had the same long, pink mane with the curl at the end. It was coarser than Fluttershy's, but only just. The biggest difference...

Celestia opened her eyes. Fluttershy had hidden behind her mane, but the newcomer looked at Celestia proudly, a look that seemed wildly out of place on the face she nearly shared with her pegasus counterpart. The biggest difference was in Posey's eyes, which were a startling green. That had been what had drawn her to the earth pony in the first place, she recalled.

The yellow earth pony put a foreleg carefully over Fluttershy's shoulders and squeezed. The one corner of the pegasus' muzzle Celestia could see turned up in a soft smile and she leaned into the hug. "If she had a sister, I think she'd have introduced us to her by now, don't you think?" The earth pony grinned at her. "You come around her often enough anyway. Good to see you up, Sunny."

"Sunsong," Fluttershy corrected, about as firmly as she ever did. Her voice was at the edge of hearing.

"Sunsong, Sunny, Sunflower, whatever." Posey chuckled.

"I really don't mind what you call me, " Celestia offered.

"See?" Posey said, letting go of Fluttershy. The pegasus had colored slightly. "What, you're getting all embarrassed about it? But you don't blush when I call you 'Shy-'Shy..."

If she didn't normally, she did so now, and brightly, letting out a squeak and hiding behind her mane in earnest. After a moment, Celestia caught the sound of her mumbling, though she couldn't make out the words.

"You're a goofball, Fluttershy," was Posey's reply, patting the blushing pony on the head. "Love you, sis."

"... 've you too..." There was silence for a moment, aside from the awkward shuffling of hooves, before Fluttershy mumbled something about her pets and left the room. Celestia was left alone with Posey.

"Sisters..." Celestia murmured, managing at the last moment to shave off the upturn in tone that would have turned the statement into a question.

"Yep!" The other earth pony slid into the chair next to Celestia's, already nursing a cup of coffee. "Let me tell you, Sunny, you're missing out. Nothing quite like having a sister." She leaned in. Celestia furrowed her brow, watching Posey closely. "You think you could convince your parents to give it another shot?"

Celestia's mouth hung open slightly. Parents. Parents? She could not, for the moment, muster a reply. Posey mistook the silence for embarrassment. "Haha, just joking, Sunny, come on. You're always so serious. It's a nice day out! The sun's shining! You're on vacation, for Apollo's sake, the least you can do is lighten up. Miss Firefly's gonna run you ragged when she gets back anyway, you might as well enjoy it."

"Is she really?" Celestia asked dryly.

"You know how she is, Sunny," said Posey warmly, pulling away and wandering over to the cupboards, lips pursed thoughtfully. "Poor mare can't take a break even when she's supposed to be taking a break. I don't think it's healthy, the way she throws herself into things, but you know, can't argue with a mare who's got such an up and at 'em attitude."

Any doubt that this might, in fact, be a Firefly other than the one she remembered was more or less dashed by this point. Up and at 'em, yes—there was a phrase that described Firefly to a T. As Celestia recalled, it had gotten her in trouble more than once; but what was a Wonderbolt without a few crashes here and there anyway? It was traditional, as Rainbow Dash might cheerily declare, and it was a tradition that General Firefly had started. That hadn't stopped the look of shame from crossing the pegasus' face whenever Celestia had, for propriety's sake, been forced to reprimand her at the request of whichever noble whose house she'd buzzed this time. Propriety had never really sat well with the princess in any case, but ponies will be ponies, she supposed.

"...besides, you know she's got a thing for you," Posey was saying when Celestia resurfaced from her thoughts.

"Yes..." It took her a moment to process what had just been said. "Er, I'm sorry?"

Posey shot her a look, eyebrows raised, and let out an incredulous chuckle. "Gosh, I know you're a serious-Mc-Serious-Pants, but are you really that dense? I can see it, 'Shy-'Shy can see it. Miss Firefly's got the hots for you, if you know what I mean."

Celestia furrowed her brow. "I beg your pardon?"

"Why do you think she takes you everywhere? Oh, she'll never admit it. She's a pegasus, you're an earth pony, you know. Tribal stigma and all. At least until she takes over House Nubis, and then she'll have some sway with Lord Summer and it'll all be cool." Posey returned to the table with a few slices of raisin bread, which she proceeded to cover in butter. She had a stupid, cocksure sort of grin on her muzzle. Celestia was momentarily taken aback, having grown so used to Fluttershy. "Can't see what she likes about you, anyway. Oh, you're pretty enough, and I know Firefly's got a thing for mares..." She shrugs. "I mean, I'm all for it. Let her have her crush, I say. Just don't know if it'll work out in the long run, you not having wings and all."

Celestia didn't know what to make of all this, and decided instead to sort out what she’d heard. Tribal stigma? So there was something separating earth ponies from pegasi. The thought made her uncomfortable; she had spent over a thousand years dissolving the same cultural stigmas from between all three tribes. And yet here, wherever here was, all of that work had apparently been undone. And who was this Lord Summer? House Nubis? How far down did the rabbit hole go—and more importantly, how far down the chain of command had she ended up?

"I mean, she gets enough flak for hanging around with us every chance she gets, doesn't she?" Posey asked. "I mean, that's what you make it sound like. They're not even happy to have you up there, since Featherweight Charms are so damned expensive. Thank Apollo Miss Firefly's the heir, eh? She can still throw a tantrum from time to time to get what she wants."

That she wasn't a Princess any more was self-evident. That was important. So who was? Keep thinking, you stupid pony, keep thinking. Figure it out. If you stop and let it all swamp you, you'll drown. Don't reminisce. Think. Here and now. What do we know? Where can we go from here?

"And our leaders would surely disapprove," she said, once again shaving off the question mark.

"You know they would, Sunny." For the first time, Posey looked serious, muzzle twisting into a dejected scowl. "Look, I... Don't tell my sister, but there was another incident at the tavern yesterday. You know how it goes—I had to make a choice..."

"Incident?" Celestia asked, but her question was drowned out by the sound of the front door being kicked open. Amid the cacaphony of three dozen frightened animals, the princess' ears discerned a voice.

"Sunsong! Get out here!"

Posey rolled her eyes and mouthed, "Told you."

Celestia just nodded, took another sip of her tea, and slid out of her chair. She swung open the door to the living room, took a circuitous step around a fleeing ferret, and was immediately tackled to the ground.





A knock on the door drew Celestia from her reverie. She realized she'd reached the end of the scroll without reading very much of it at all and, with a pang of guilt, put it aside, setting down the quill and returning the lid to the inkpot. She would return to it later, and she would actually read it this time.

"Who is it?"

"Begging your pardon, Your Majesty," came Dream Chaser's voice. "It's General Firefly, said she wants to talk to you. I told her you were busy, but she..."

"It's quite alright," she said, rising and moving away from her writing desk. "She may enter."

The door to her chambers opened slowly. Firefly, in what Celestia guessed was supposed to be her uniform, stepped through before the door had swung all the way, caught it with a rear hoof, and pushed it shut. Once she heard the latch click, the Princess allowed her typically calm expression melt into amused disbelief. "Is that really your uniform?"

The pegasus looked slightly offended, though a blush worked its way onto her already rose-colored cheeks. "Yes, it is."

"But it is so..." Celestia searched for words, extending a hoof to experimentally probe the material. "... poofy."

Firefly cleared her throat and stood to her full height, putting on a stern look that certainly would have cowed the most stone-hearted of recruits. Unfortunately, given that Celestia was a respectable fraction of twice her height and no stranger to stern looks herself, the effect fell somewhat flat, a fact the pegasus seemed intimately aware of. Nevertheless, with as much of her diminished dignity as she could muster, she looked Celestia in the eye. “I'll have you know that poofy,” and she spat the word with a sort of self-aware sourness that did not quite break the façade, “is perfectly acceptable, and was even recommended to me by the tailor who put it together.”

“But it does not seem...” Again, Celestia paused, theatrically gesturing as if paging through a book, “aerodynamic.”

A pause. The expression on each mare's face refused to give an inch.

“But,” said Firefly, “it provides an excellent cushion for long meetings.”

Both mares chuckled, what tension there had been evaporating. Celestia shook her head gently. “My dear, you are a general. You should be setting a better example.”

“I'm setting a fine example!” Firefly said, no longer fighting the grin. “A fine example of what you shouldn't do in meetings, and by that I mean rant on and on and on about strategies no one's ever going to use because somepony...”

Here she cast a knowing look at Celestia, who returned a look of purest innocence.

“...is so damned good at politics that we may very well never see another war. I tell you, you're going to put us military types out of work!”

“Am I to assume that is what you are here to discuss?”

“Yes!” Firefly declared, and then balked. “Sort of.” When the Princess tilted her head in a silent request for her to continue, she added, “Well, this is going to sound kind of weird, but I was out at Rainbow Falls the other day...”





The pony atop her seemed far too large to be Firefly until Celestia reminded herself that she was now the size of a normal pony. Beyond that, the sharp contrast between deep blue, roiling eyes and the pale rose color of her coat made her seem somehow larger than life. And heavier. Celestia wheezed. “Firefly, please...”

“You'd better not make me worry like that again!” snapped the pegasus sternly, and Princess Celestia, who had once stared down an entire horde of dragons, flinched. Their faces were less than an inch apart. “We came out here for some peace and quiet and you spend half of it writhing around in Fluttershy's bed, sicker than a dog.”

“I,” Celestia started to say. Firefly opened her mouth to retort.

A low, encouraging sort of whistle sounded from behind her. She looked up to the upside-down image of Posey standing in the doorway to the kitchen, mug in hand. “Is this how you intend to start all your mornings as a royal couple, Firefly?”

Celestia pushed against the pegasus. “Air...”

“I mean, I'm not judging,” Posy continued as Firefly, expression smoldering, got up off of Celestia and fluffed her wings. “It's actually kinda hot. I mean, if you're into that kind of thing.”

The alicorn-turned-earth-pony rolled onto her stomach and pushed herself up onto her hooves, taking great breaths of air.

“What I intend to do once I get married is my business. As is who,” Firefly was declaring primly once she had regained enough composure to look around. The pegasus' statement earned a wry sort of chuckle from Posey.

“Right, uh huh.”

Firefly gave Celestia an aside glance that reminded her all too much of Rainbow Dash. The severity of her situation, never quite having left, crashed down upon her again with full force.

“Whatever,” Firefly declared darkly, and then turned to Celestia. “You stay here for a sec. There's something I want to grab. It arrived while you were up in bed, rolling around and moaning about the sun.” She disappeared upstairs, leaving the two earth ponies. Celestia attempted to avoid the suggestive glances Posey was giving her.

The window provided an ample distraction. She remembered Fluttershy’s cottage as being quite a ways out from Ponyville proper, but for all she knew she could have been anywhere. The tree was what drew her attention first.

It almost seemed disrespectful to merely call it a tree. It was a giant among trees, standing what could have been miles tall. Healthy, its broad branches and leaves dominated a huge portion of the sky from the view of the window. Beneath it, the unmistakably wild visage of the Everfree Forest spilled in an awkward, uncontrollable mess. A tree that size ought to have killed every competitor by now, but the Everfree seemed to fight on regardless, even under the unbelievably wide branches of the tallest of its trees. There was no mistaking the effects of magic like that, though how it had managed to hold stable in the chaotic magic of that forest was a mystery to her

More troubling to her was the fact that the Palace of Friendship, the spires of which were easily visible for several miles out of Ponyville, was nowhere to be seen. In the distance, far from the treeline and well out of the shadow of the giant of the forest, she could make out the tips of the hamlet’s cottages, but the silver-blue crystal of Twilight Sparkle’s domain failed to present itself. Celestia bit her lip.

“Here!”

Something was thrown about her neck. She had to fight off the impulse to turn and throw a hoof at Firefly, who chuckled nervously as she landed beside her. “Uh, sorry, Sunsong.”

Celestia looked down. A scarf had been loosely strewn around her neck, a deep burgundy color that reminded her of her mother. Interwoven in the fabric was a whimsical, spiraling trail of golden lettering which, after a moment, she deciphered as ancient Pegasopolis script. She raised a hoof to grab at it, but the moment her hoof brushed the gold a faint jolt shot through it and she started. Of course—she’d so long been used to feeling for magic with her horn that noticing its touch with her hooves came as something of a quite literal shock.

“Would you believe I ordered that from Whimsy last time we were in Prosperity? He didn’t manage to actually get off his lazy flank and send it to us until you’re flat on your back in Ponyville.” Firefly chuckled dryly. “Well, he does good work, I guess, even if he isn’t very prompt about it.”

Celestia brought her hoof to the gold lining again. This time it was less of a jolt and more of a tingle, the feeling of lightning underhoof on a cloud.

“It’s enchanted with cloudwalking,” the pegasus continued. “This way you don’t have to keep getting those weird spells cast on you every time we head back up to the capital. Just keep the scarf nearby and you’ll be good. Oh, and I guess it’ll keep you warm, too.”

How poetic, she thought. A cloudwalking spell inscribed on old pegasus script. “Thank you, Firefly.”

“I got one that matches!” Firefly replied, more enthusiastically this time. Celestia took another look. A scarf similar to hers was draped over the pegasus’ withers, the same vibrant blue as her mane. The inscription on hers was bronze colored.“Of course, mine isn’t enchanted, ‘cause obviously I don’t need it. But I figured if you’re always following me around, we might as well match.”

“How thoughtful,” Celestia said kindly, giving her a smile. Firefly’s chuckle this time was nervous. “I like it.”

Firefly scuffed a hoof along the floor, a surprisingly meek action. “So, yeah,” she said, though Celestia spotted the way she struggled to keep her proud grin from becoming too obvious. “Glad to have you back. It would’ve sucked if you survived working for me for this long only to kick it by getting sick.” She huffed. “You’re my bodyguard and an all-around badass, you’re not supposed to make me worry like that.”

Celestia turned to her and raised a hoof to her own chest, inclining her head. “Lady Firefly, I do swear on my honor that I shall never make you worry like that again.”

The pegasus swatted her gently, expression much more relaxed and genuine. “Hey, now, what’ve I said about using that voice on me? Sun’s sake, you’ll turn me into my sire.” She let out a little sigh. “But thanks.”

Celestia’s attention was drawn out of the window again. The great tree dominated her view, casting a shadow that loomed off eastward, even though by her reckoning it couldn’t have been past two in the afternoon. The entire thing made her uneasy, in a deeper and more fundamental way than the Everfree itself. No tree that large could mean anything good. Moreover, Firefly didn’t seem to be bothered by it.

Today was becoming more intriguing—and more worrisome—by the minute, and she hadn’t even been awake for two hours yet.

“Feel like getting a breath of fresh air for once?” Firefly said, drawing Celestia’s attention away from the window and back toward her charge. “Can’t imagine spending all this time indoors surrounded by animals is too good for you. I mean…” She looked around. “No offense to Fluttershy, I just prefer the open air, you know?”

Celestia nodded. “Actually, it would be nice to step outside. Perhaps we can visit the town?”

This earned a chuckle. “If you want to be bowled over by Pinkie, sure. I’m surprised she’s not already here with a ‘We’re Glad You’re Better Sunsong’ cake or something.”

The metaphorical punches to the gut were becoming distressingly routine given how briefly she’d been awake. “Yes,” she said, voice faltering slightly. “That is surprising.”

“But yeah, I bet the town’ll be glad to hear their hero’s back on her hooves.” Firefly meandered toward the door, and Celestia followed. “Oh, and before we go…”

The book the pegasus offered Celestia had the look of a homemade journal, bound in simple materials and without so much as a scrawl on the cover. Her suspicions proved true when she opened the front cover, spying ‘Sunsong’ inscribed in the upper corner.

“Kept it safe for you like you asked. I know the way you like taking notes.”

“Yes,” Celestia said, turning the page and skimming it. “Yes… Thank you. I’ll have to get back to this as soon as possible. For now…?”

The desire to simply sit down and pore over this journal was a strong one, and despite her words she warred with the idea. But firsthoof experience would win out in the end, she supposed, and the book would always be there later. For now…

Celestia swallowed, and looked out into the world being lit by someone else’s sun.

For now she had to see, and learn, and using what she saw and learned, solve the problem.

But for Celestia, daughter of the Speaker, solar diarch of Equestria, the problem seemed very big indeed.