Waking was like a door slowly opening, allowing light into a dark room inches at a time until the whole thing was revealed. Golden Harvest stretched and yawned as she slipped from her pleasant dreams. There had been a warm day, and a beach, and a bright blue sky. She rolled over, squeezing her eyes tight against the sunlight that seemed to be shining from every direction. Her hoof stretched out, but instead of finding Written Script's reassuring back, she found only emptiness.
The bed felt wrong too; lumpy and uneven. Cushions. It felt like cushions. She rolled again, trying to escape the light, but it didn't dim or fade, as if someone was holding a lantern in her face.
Then came the question of why she was still in bed when the sun was so bright, which meant it must have been late morning at the very least. Hadn't she planned to be somewhere today? Or was that yesterday?
"Carrot?"
"What," she moaned, but then paused. Nobody called her Carrot any more, except—but the voice was wrong. Familiar, but deeper and more resonant than she remembered. With a reluctant sigh she cinched an eye open.
An alicorn was staring at Golden Harvest. She was grey, with a golden mane that cascaded across her head, or so Golden Harvest's mind insisted because anything else would be crazy. At the same time her eye saw light and fire writhing in the shape of a pony and a web of silver threads stretching out in every direction, pulsing with life and energy. She looked down, following the closest thread until it disappeared into her own heart.
"Ditzy, you're on fire," she mumbled, before closing her eyes.
Golden Harvest groaned as consciousness tugged her into the waking world. When she opened her eyes, she found she was lying on a pile of cushions in a room that looked almost as big as her entire home. Towering windows dominated one wall, though the only sight visible beyond them was an ever-moving wall of grey cloud.
"—guess you have a habit of marrying mares who talk in their sleep," said the voice again. There was a hint of amusement behind it.
"Not really a habit." That was Written Script. Golden Harvest wondered with dull confusion why he wasn't lying next to her, until she recalled that she'd only dreamed she was asleep. At least she thought she had.
"Do you think she'll accept this," Twilight Sparkle asked somewhere to the left. Golden Harvest's ears twisted toward the source of her voice. "It's potentially a great deal of responsibility."
"She's fine handling responsibility," Written Script replied, slowly, as if carefully considering every word. They didn't realise she was awake yet. Golden Harvest lay still.
"There's a stipend—"
"Money isn't the issue. She'll want to do whatever's best for Dinky. We both do, but the implications..."
Golden Harvest rolled over, catching the pair by surprise, but her attention was on the pony behind them. The alicorn was back, lurking in the skin of her lost friend, though she wasn't surrounded by ethereal flame this time. Before her sat Twilight Sparkle, dressed to the nines in robes that sat awkwardly across her withers and sporting some sort of medallion around her neck. Written Script was at her side. His proximity to the alicorn sent a confusing pang of jealousy through Golden Harvest's heart and before she could think, she was struggling from the cushions to confront the interloper.
Whatever she wanted to say was lost, though, when she looked up into the eye of her friend.
"I don't believe it," she said.
"I've been getting that a lot," said Derpy. She smiled again, while Golden Harvest rubbed her tired eyes and sat down on the floor.
"You're a princess," she replied. An abrupt instinct to bow was pushed aside for the moment. This was her friend, not some distant goddess. "Why was I asleep?"
"You passed out," said Twilight, turning to face Golden Harvest. "And you've been unconscious for about forty minutes. It was probably the shock of finding your friend alive."
Golden Harvest looked up at Derpy's face. Up. Way up. "I don't think so. You're an alicorn! How on earth—"
"Because I was there," said Derpy. She lowered her head down closer to Golden Harvest's height and smiled. Her teeth were disturbingly large. "They asked me. Kinda."
"But you can't be a princess, you're... you're you! You're the sweet little id—mare who delivers packages. Now you're telling me that you're a princess?"
"I am," Derpy replied, smiling. "And Sparkler is Duchess of Canterlot."
"Duchess of Canterlot?" When she looked up she saw Twilight nodding. "And I suppose you're going to tell me that Dinky is Duchess of Ponyville next."
Twilight cleared her throat, but turned away when Golden Harvest looked up at her. Derpy's gaze, by contrast, remained steady when Golden Harvest returned to look at her. She grinned the same infectious smile that always came out when she had to deliver a damaged parcel.
Golden Harvest stomped her hoof. "There is no Duchess of Ponyville! It's a free city! I'm in a nightmare," she grumbled as she turned away from the thing that couldn't be her friend. "That's what this is. I'm in a horrible dream. Any moment now I'll wake up at home in my own bed. We'll be getting ready to take Dinky to Horseshoe Bay for the weekend, Sparkler will be at university and you'll be banging on the door with a non-existent package because you want to give Dinky a hug before we leave."
"Goldie—"
"I won't have some crazy alicorn clone of you telling me that a child is about to be granted absolute power over my home purely on the say-so of a dead princess, and we won't be ruled over by a librarian who used to live in a tree!"
The silence that followed her outburst was filled only with the sound of Golden Harvest's panting breath. She glared at Derpy, willing her to respond, then at her husband and the little—the little pony nestled between his legs. Dinky shuffled a little deeper beneath Written Script's barrel before returning Golden Harvest's stare with a reproachful frown.
"Technically I still live in that tree," Twilight muttered.
"We're doomed," Golden Harvest said, turning away. She trotted to the window to stare out at the palace. "It'll be like the town hall on a national scale. Have you knocked down any towers yet?"
"Goldie that was one time! I pay more attention—"
"Doomed," Golden Harvest repeated. She closed her eyes and pressed her head against the glass, and felt the gentle thrum of rain on the window.
A pony sidled up to her, radiating more warmth than any pony had a right to. Golden Harvest peered out through one eye at Derpy, who had shuffled down on her knees to sit at Golden's height. She was still smiling. Did she ever stop smiling?
Did Celestia?
"I'm sorry I couldn't tell you," Derpy said.
She nosed at Golden Harvest's ear. Her breath felt hot, humid, like a breeze on a deep summer day, but there was no mistaking that playful nip and tug that Derpy always employed when they'd had an argument. Golden twitched. She'd always been ticklish there.
"I wanted to," Derpy whispered. "Dinky missed you, even Sparkler missed you a bit, I think."
"The day that girl misses me is the day you grow a horn and—" Golden Harvest closed her eyes and sighed. "This is crazy."
"You should try raising the sun every morning."
Golden Harvest bolted upright. She stared up at the shrouded sky. "Please tell me you're not going to drop it on us!"
"It doesn't work that way."
Derpy dropped her wing across Golden Harvest's back. Always had been a big hugger, Golden Harvest thought, but she wasn't going to protest this time. And then she heard the patter of little hooves and felt a squirming bundle burrow into the tiny space between them. Dinky popped up onto Golden Harvest's back and caught her neck in an inescapable embrace.
"Hug time!" she yelped, and then took a flying leap onto Derpy's back, where she snaked into the tresses of Derpy's mane.
Nothing had changed, but something felt different then, though Golden Harvest had no idea what it could be. She leaned up against Derpy's side, pondering the unusual warmth of her friend.
"What's it like?" Golden Harvest looked up at Derpy's face and found the familiar, every so slightly vacant expression Derpy had when she was thinking.
Then the smile returned. Derpy closed her eyes. "It's amazing. I feel everything all at once, and I love it all at once."
"Oh."
"Maybe one day I'll find a way to show you." Derpy pulled back her wing, then paused to twitch her head as Dinky finally came clambering out of her mane. "You know, you haven't asked why you're here."
"I guess I had a few things on my mind," Golden Harvest replied. She looked over her shoulder at Written Script and Twilight, still lurking near the far wall. "Okay. Why am I here? And don't try and give me some smartass philosophical answer, you know I hate those."
Derpy laughed. It was meant to be a quiet chuckle, but her sheer size amplified it to booming laughter that echoed briefly around the room, even rattling the windows. Written Script clapped his hooves over his ears; Twilight only winced, though perhaps she was used to it.
Atop Derpy's head, Dinky burst out laughing. "Again!"
Golden Harvest shook her head, trying to quell the ringing in her ears. "Well that settles it. Only you could accidentally blow out everyone's ears with a giggle."
"Sorry," Derpy said, smiling sheepishly. She lowered her head to let Dinky roll onto the carpet, where the youngster took off for the other side of the room, singing loud and bright.
"So. Why are we here?"
Derpy snorted and shook her head. "Would you believe we need a sitter?"
Golden Harvest's ears perked upright. She hadn't even realised they were lying flat. "You brought us all the way here to foalsit? That's a heck of a commute..."
"That's not quite what they want," Written Script said. It was the first time he'd spoken since Golden Harvest had fully awoke. He shuffled his hooves and then trotted over to the window.
She turned to meet him. "Honey, you look like you're about to tell me you're dying."
"That's because you might want to kill me," Written Script replied. He bit his lip. "It's about that duchess thing. Just hear me out," he added quickly, before she could even think to react. "Because it's important."
Golden Harvest grit her teeth. "Go on."
Before he answered, Written Script turned to look out of the window. He stared up at the sky, then turned his attention to the faint glow of the city lurking beneath the clouds. "There's some sort of law, something about looking after land or responsibilities, or whatever, but it means Dinky has to spend at least a third of every year in Ponyville."
Golden Harvest tapped her chin. "That doesn't sound so bad. She's already spends more time than that with us."
"Yeah, but... well..." Written Script turned a pleading face to Twilight. The archmage—librarian—whatever she was, rolled her eyes and moved a few steps toward them.
"What Written Script is trying to tell you is that Dinky has to be appointed a Steward until she's old enough to take the ducal throne—"
"There's a throne?" Derpy blinked as everyone turned to look at her. She smiled and bowed her head briefly. "Sorry. Go on, Twilight."
Twilight nodded her thanks. "We thought that the best option would be to appoint Written Script to the position. He can oversee her major responsibilities, liaise with the local government and prepare for her eventual coronation. He'll also have to spend a significant amount of time at the palace."
"The palace. You mean here?"
Twilight nodded. "His responsibilities will require he remain with Dinky even when she's living in Canterlot. Since she lives in a suite in the palace, he'll have to live there with her as well."
Golden Harvest turned back to the window. She could see the room reflected behind her, Derpy to her left, Written Script to her right. And there she was, stuck in the middle, with Dinky squeezing in between her legs while she narrated an adventure to herself.
At the palace. She turned to look at Derpy. At the palace...
"It's not that I don't trust you two," she said, turning her attention to Written Script. "But there is absolutely no way in tartarus I am letting you spend time alone with her."
"But honey—"
"No, it's not right," Golden Harvest persisted. She glanced at Derpy. "I'm afraid you're just going to have to accept that I'll be coming here with you."
Written Script opened his mouth to protest, then frowned, drawing his head back. He looked at Twilight, then at Derpy, then back to Golden Harvest. "Huh."
"So." Golden Harvest turned around to face Twilight. "About that stipend."
* * *
The sun shone.
Derpy had spent so long beneath the clouds shrouding Canterlot that she had almost forgotten how it felt to have that bright heat on her back, burning at her coat until it seemed that it should be on fire. Whatever she was now, in her heart Derpy was a pegasus and the sun-seared sky was her domain, her home. Maybe her life.
Pegasus instinct spread her wings as she stepped from the shadow of Ponyville's town hall and into the light of a warm summer day, and that was good. But now she could feel new instincts, new sensations. The earth beneath her hooves radiated its life to her, every blade of grass and every flower, even the tiniest motes of life, filling her with the joy of its growth and existence. The air glowed with ethereal mists and lines and webs of energy, as magic poured through her and through the world.
Ponies were tangled knots of life that moved and touched and merged and broke apart as they passed back and forth. The world was a cats-cradle of shimmering, cascading light, everywhere she looked.
It was no wonder Celestia had always smiled.
Derpy closed her eyes. When she opened them again she was faced with the green grass of the town square and a crowd of ponies held at a respectable distance by ranks of guards. They were cheering.
There was a dais by the river, flanked by grand pavillion tents and standards that fluttered in the warm breeze. Such a change from the chill skies of her new home. Behind the dais and the throne that stood upon it, she could see a half-dozen ponies bearing the regalia of her office on a series of bright red cushions, which Derpy supposed she would be expected to wear every day after this one. A torc, shoes, robes, some sort of sceptre.
A crown.
It looked very heavy.
For a moment Derpy fought the urge to turn, to flee to her little house on the other side of town. To hide.
"I don't think I can do this," she murmured to Twilight, who marched at her side bearing a check-marked and ink-splattered scroll
Twilight tipped her ears toward Derpy, though she kept her eyes forward. "You can do it. Everypony here is behind you."
"Ponies are normally only behind me when they're chasing me with repair bills," said Derpy. Twilight didn't answer again.
The dais was closer now, close enough that she could see apple blossoms that had fallen to it from a nearby tree that was – somehow – in full bloom. That was probably the work of Twilight or one of her friends, because there weren't supposed to be any apple blossoms. Or apples, but she could see a few of those lurking amongst the branches as well, ripe and red and fat as a well-fed foal.
The mayor was already on the dais, chattering away to an old stallion in a plain white robe. A priest. Why was there a priest? Hadn't they all been calling her a demon a couple of weeks ago? But he looked nice and friendly, and he smiled as the mayor exclaimed the punchline of whatever joke she had been telling. Perhaps he was a nice priest.
Then they were mounting the dais, and the priest and the mayor were bowing and scuttling away to the side, and Twilight had disappeared somewhere with her scroll. Derpy turned, circling the low stage until she found herself looking at rank after rank of ponies. Some of them were friends, some just familiar faces from the edges of her world. Some she had never seen before in her life. They all shared one thing in common, though: They couldn't believe it either.
She swallowed and looked away. To her left, Sparkler, Written Script, Golden Harvest and Dinky were seated in the shade of one of the pavilions. Dinky was staring at her and waved at the very moment she caught Derpy's eye. Derpy smiled and half-lifted her hoof to wave back, though she had no idea if she was allowed to move.
At her right, when she turned, she found Twilight conferring with the priest and the mayor. Twilight was waving her scroll and pointing at it like it was the only thing in the world. They didn't look at Derpy once.
To pass the time and avoid looking at the crowd, she had taken to watching the the sky and the occasional cloud as it scudded past, and wondered if she would ever have to take on weather duty again. It seemed unlikely. She began to hum quietly as a particularly fat little cumulus drifted by. It took a few moments for her to realise that someone was whispering her name very quietly.
Derpy looked down to Twilight, who was tapping her hoof and wearing a grumpier face than Dinky when she had been denied ice-cream. Behind her the old priest was looking thoughtfully at the sky. Derpy bit her lip and looked back at the assembly.
The crowd watched her. She heard the quiet thud of hooves, and saw several of her guards in bright ceremonial armour stomp into position on either side of the crowd, with Sure Stride at their head. He saluted and then bowed to her. For a moment he smiled too, but then looked away.
Derpy waited for him to look back again, to offer her another of those encouraging smiles, but his eyes remained locked on some distant part of the horizon. Reluctantly she tore her gaze from him. She had never felt more alone.
"Citizens of Equestria," the priest boomed, with a voice as gravely as the river bed behind Derpy. "We are gathered before sun and moon to witness the coronation of our new Princess. I present to you now Thunderpeal De Raptura, your undoubted ruler, who stands before you in pledge to your service and care. Are you now willing to do the same?"
The crowd let out a roar of agreement, surprising Derpy into an involuntary step back. She shook her head and tried to hide the shock on her face, and carefully fluffed her wings as if that had been her intention all along. From the look of a few of the ponies in the front row it was clear she wasn't fooling anyone.
Oh well.
By then the old priest – she was sure Twilight had mentioned his name, but it had slipped her mind entirely – had moved to her side, and was half-facing her. The breeze had caught his pale blue mane and lifted it about his ears, but he didn't seem particularly worried about it as he continued speaking.
"Thunderpeal De Raptura, by right of ascension and the grace of harmony, you stand before this assembly of the tribes and the peoples of Equestria, here to be crowned judge and executor of their will. Are you now prepared to take upon your back the yoke of these peoples?"
He turned his head fully to look at her, and under his gaze her mouth dried out like a cake left in the oven too long. She swallowed, and forced her tongue briefly between her lips to wet them, and nodded. "I am."
"Therefore you must take this oath." The old priest nodded slowly, turning back to the crowd. "Do you solemnly promise to cherish and love, guide and protect, and govern the tribes of Equestria, and the peoples of the same, in justice and harmony?"
"I promise I shall," she said quietly. Her voice echoed back as she looked over the crowd, their silence so absolute that even the slight rustle of grass in the breeze sounded like a roaring tumult.
"Do you swear to uphold the laws of the Great Union, without privilege or partiality, and to execute justice, fairness and law in all your judgements?"
A peculiar warmth spread across her belly, and then felt as if it were twisting up her gut. Derpy swallowed and nodded, trying to remember the answer Twilight had coached her to give. "I-I swear it."
"Will you maintain the settlement of Union, and the sovereignty of the nations of Equestria?" Again the old priest turned to her. His eyes danced as he spoke. It seemed he was enjoying this rather more than she was, but perhaps it was just because he was doing something no pony would get the chance to do again. "Will you preserve the harmony of the land, and uphold the unity of that bond? Will you bear the burdens of your role, with grace and forbearance, for all time? Will you carry the light of harmony to the world, as you bear the light of the sun to her face?"
"All these things I p-promise," she squeaked. A hot flush rose on her cheeks, but the old priest gave her an encouraging smile and bowed his head just a fraction before turning away again.
"You have sworn oath before this assembly," he called, his voice rising over the crowd. He stepped away from Derpy's side and lifted his head. "Now come before them and lower yourself, for though you rise above us, though you cast power before us, though you stand firm before us, we are your equal and you are ours."
Before the echo of his words had died down, a quartet of ponies – two earth ponies and two pegasi – crowded to Derpy's sides and ushered her from the dais to the crowd, before halting her a few steps short of the first rank. Two unicorns approached, each followed by more ponies bearing the regalia, including the ring she had worn on her horn that first day. Behind them came yet more, bearing a broad, wool-lined cloak of blue silk across their backs. They gathered around her in a circle, each bowing to her as they halted.
Silence fell as everyone looked at her, waiting for her to act. Derpy couldn't move; she had no idea what was meant to happen next. After a moment one of the unicorns leaned toward her, and commanded her in a harsh whisper to kneel.
"Oh. Sorry," she muttered, bending her forelegs. For a moment her back legs refused to cooperate, splaying out to either side, and she had to flare her wings for balance until her belly touched the ground. The unicorn rolled his eyes and took a deep breath to compose himself.
The first of the bearers stepped forward, holding the torc aloft in his magic. It slid over Derpy's head and down to her chest, settling cold and heavy against her throat. It was followed by the ring, which slid onto her horn far too easily for a thing so significant; and the cloak, which was pulled across her shoulders and clasped to the torc with a series of quiet snicks, like a lock and chain being drawn tight about her.
The crown came last, floating over her head in a soft magenta glow that she would recognise anywhere. Derpy rolled her eye around until she saw Twilight in the crowd of ponies surrounding her. The archmage winked and grinned, while the priest's voice boomed over them.
"Thunderpeal De Raptura, by the grace of harmony and the assent of this assembly, by Parliament, by Treaty, and by the People, I crown you Princess of the Union of Equestria, Queen Regent of the Kingdom of Canterlot, Duchess of the Hesperia and the Bit Islands, Lord Commander of Pegasopolis and the Guard, Grand Baron of Mane Valley, Protector of the Realm, Bearer of the Yoke of Harmony, Carrier of the Solar Orb, Unity of our Tribes, and Guiding Light of our Peoples. May your reign be eternal, and may your light ever be undimmed!"
The tone of Twilight's magic shifted fractionally. Derpy closed her eyes as the weight of the crown settled on her head, just behind her horn. She felt a tickle on her cheek as a tear broke free of one eye, and then the other. When she opened them again, the attendants had left her facing the crowd alone. They were still watching her; rank after rank of impassive, silent faces, all staring right at her.
Carefully, to avoid rocking the crown that felt so precarious across her skull, she lifted her head and then awkwardly raised herself up to the sound of stomping hooves and cheering voices. As she stood, she heard the clatter of tiny hooves on wood. Dinky leaped toward her and clung to her foreleg, giggling and chattering so fast that Derpy could barely understand her.
Much as she wanted to stay like that, Derpy leaned down to nuzzle her daughter away from her leg, and quickly wrapped the little filly in one of her wings. She turned to the crowd again as their cheering redoubled, and hesitantly raised her hoof.