//------------------------------// // Chapter 49: Nice // Story: Green // by Steel Resolve //------------------------------// You truly are a baffling creature, Celestia. Be silent, Celestia thought back as she held Pinkie close. Oh, come now. I’m not saying it like it’s a bad thing, but you honestly confuse me. Which shouldn’t be possible. Celestia ignored the voice, continuing to stroke Pinkie’s hair. They’d been sitting together for some time now, Pinkie on Celestia’s lap, wrapped up in her wings. She’d gone from full bawling to a quiet sniffling, making no move to extricate herself from Celestia’s embrace. In all that time, Pinkie had yet to utter a word, and Celestia, great orator that she was, could find nothing to say for this situation. And so she’d done the only thing that made sense. She’d continued to provide physical comfort, in the hopes that Pinkie would eventually calm down enough to allow normal speech to continue. Assuming, of course, that Celestia had figured out what to say by then. The accursed voice had a point; her actions were baffling, even to herself. She didn’t regret them, but she wasn’t certain how she could possibly explain herself to Pinkie. ‘You needed to be kissed’ sounded less than sane in hindsight, and yet, no less true. Then again, much of what she’d been doing in the last few days could be considered less than sane. Being in love was a wonderfully maddening part of her long life, and she often made decisions for those ponies that inspired it in her that she would not have made otherwise. That explains why you are less than levelheaded around Twilight. It does beg the question, though: what of the mare in your embrace? Celestia shrugged off the question helplessly. Pinkie had been distraught. To do nothing would have been unkind. And you wonder why Honesty only served you for a short time. How glibly you lie, even to yourself. You are not me, Celestia thought back, tightening her embrace around Pinkie as the mare let loose a fresh volley of tears. The voice laughed uproariously. Well, I’ll forgive you for that one. Celestia’s eyes narrowed, but she forebore any further humoring of the voice. It was not to be trusted; it could not be reasoned with. You wound me. All I’ve ever done is suggest you stop this constant cycle of denial. It’s not healthy. You could even say it’s likely to drive a pony mad. Celestia bit back an angry retort. Shouting suddenly was unlikely to make Pinkie calm down any faster. And she needed Pinkie to listen to her, she needed to somehow explain that Pinkie would not be cast aside as she feared. Love was not something that came in limited supply, as her niece was fond of saying. Your niece is wise, well beyond her years. Perhaps you should listen to her. Her brow furrowed, but Celestia refused to acknowledge the insidious thing’s words. She instead nuzzled the top of Pinkie’s head, trying to coax the mare from inside of her wings. She did not unfold them, however. Pinkie’s mask was broken, and she needed a shelter from the world. Celestia would not rob her of it until she was ready to come forth on her own. “Pinkie?” she asked, very quietly. A pink face with reddened eyes looked up from the enclosure. “Y-yeah?” Seeing she was at least able to talk now, Celestia widened her wings, allowing Pinkie some freedom of movement within them. “Are you feeling any better?” “No,” Pinkie replied at first. After a moment, she tried to summon the ghost of a smile. “I mean... a little.” She sniffed loudly, rubbing a hoof over her eyes to wipe away the tears. “Sorry.” “Don’t say that, Pinkie. You are the wronged party here.” The words seemed to distract Pinkie, and her mouth quirked up a little more into something more resembling a grin, even if her eyes spoke of confusion. “Wrong party? There’s no such thing.” Celestia’s own mouth followed suit almost involuntarily. It was good to see Pinkie smile, though the red eyes and partially-limp mane still concerned her. “I mean you are the one pony who is not to blame, Pinkie. I wronged you.” Pinkie just blinked for a moment. “Huh? You didn’t do anything wrong, Celly! You wanted to help!” Celestia sighed, allowing her wings to drop to her sides. “I wanted to, that’s true. But it seems my presence has only made things worse. So I am the one who must apologize.” “Nuh-uh! You helped me find Twilight, and you helped save Rarity. That was super helpful!” Pinkie twisted around, putting her forelegs on Celestia’s shoulders. “It’s not your fault things went wrong.” “Then who is at fault, Pinkie?” Celestia asked, tiredly. “I’ve seen Twilight’s past; I could have prevented you both so much pain. I should have let her down gently and easily the moment I suspected she felt for me. The two of you would have been happy, and whole.” “Yeah, maybe,” Pinkie allowed. “But she never told you how she really felt, and she never talked to you about it when she got older. She just kept it a secret and let it eat at her. How is that your fault?” “I… I don’t know. I should have seen it in her actions—” “You know what I think? I think you were both silly-heads. You’re gonna be fine. She’s gonna be so happy.” Pinkie smiled even wider. “I’ll cheer you on. You’ll see.” She’s right! You and Twilight will be very happy together. See how much she wants that? Are you going to deny poor Pinkie her wish? You’ve already stolen Twilight’s heart from her; how else will she possibly be happy now? “Stop,” Celestia said out loud, her eyes widening as she realized all of her efforts had been fruitless. She’d still somehow stepped right into the trap. “Um... what’s wrong?” Pinkie asked. She looked troubled and confused, which made Celestia’s heart ache, but the voice in her head went on relentlessly. It would be so very cruel of you if you denied them. Twilight wants you, Pinkie wants you to have her. You could make them both happy, and yourself as well! “Stop!” Celestia thundered out in the Voice. She clutched at both sides of her head, dumping Pinkie off of her lap. She would not allow this to happen, no matter what she, or Twilight, or Pinkie might want. Selfish, selfish. Can’t you just do what they want instead? It’s the best for all concerned, can’t you see that? A loud clatter came from upstairs, followed by a door slamming open. “Princess!” Twilight called upstairs. “What’s wrong?” Well, now you’ve done it. I wonder how she’ll react to her ‘perfect’ mentor losing her mind. “Pinkie, what happened?” Twilight demanded as she came down the stairs. Pinkie’s ears clamped to her skull, as she looked at Twilight with wide fearful eyes. “I dunno! We were talking and she started shouting and holding her head and please don’t hate me I don’t mind that you kissed her it’s fine really—” It’s all coming unraveled around you. What a shame. Twilight blinked several times, looking back and forth between Celestia and Pinkie. “What?” She asked in a barely audible voice. Celestia’s eyes flew open, and she took in the hurt look on Twilight’s face, mirrored by Pinkie’s. If only you’d listened— Celestia used every bit of magic at her disposal to shield her mind, just as she’d done after her attempts to walk the dream realm in the past. She waited a moment, but mercifully heard no more of the voice. “Princess?” Twilight said, looking as if she was on the verge of a breakdown. Celestia straightened up, willing steel into her backbone, and ice into her veins. “Twilight, we need to talk.” Pinkie stood up from her haunches, looking at Twilight and Celestia for a long moment. The look of panic passed, and she turned to Celestia with a big, happy grin, which was not reflected at all in her eyes. Those spoke only of resignation, and sadness. “Good luck, Celly,” she said in a voice that was barely above a whisper. “No, Pinkie. We all need to talk.” Celestia’s feeble magic made the door glow in simple telekinesis. Twilight could have easily broken the locking enchantment, and Pinkie could no doubt have forced the door with her natural strength, but it was a simple gesture meant to convey a simple message. Nopony was leaving. “Both of you, sit, please,” Celestia said, then thought better of it. “Actually, Pinkie, please get the thermos.” “Hello, Angel.” Small, angry eyes peered out from the darkness. The white one was here. Why was she here instead of his pony? “Come now, no need for that. I’ve brought you a new salad.” A head cautiously emerged, sniffing at the proffered meal. He looked up at her suspiciously. His pony had promised him she would bring food if he obeyed her whims. Had she finally collapsed as he had feared she would? This one was mating with her, and seemed unworried. Had his pony fallen, that would not be the case. Perhaps his pony had sent this one to bring the food as further punishment? “It’s precisely the recipe she has bookmarked, so don’t even pretend it’s not to your liking.” He grunted, examining the bowl in detail. The meal was acceptable. It was the service that lacked. And the server. He took a carrot chip, biting into it and looking up at her expectantly. Perhaps she had news of his pony’s condition. At least then she would be doing something useful. “She’s sleeping. I thought you might want to know.” His eyebrows raised at that, and he did his best not to show his relief. She was sleeping, and had not collapsed and hurt herself. This was good. He needed her to be well. She was important. “You could have found some other way to get her attention, Angel. I understand your concern, but throwing your food at her is not likely to get the response you want.” He paused in his chewing, flashing her a look of pure annoyance, then shrugged. There were times when his pony would not listen to him. His options had been to continue to allow her to run herself ragged, or try more desperate means to make her listen. He would do the same the next time, in hopes that it would work. His pony had become more unpredictable recently, but she usually listened. “Angel, I feel we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot. Does it always have to be antagonistic between us?” He didn’t even bother to respond to that, choosing instead to snatch a piece of lettuce and stuff it into his mouth. She was dismissed. He was busy. She had the temerity to sit down next to him. He growled as menacingly as a bunny can growl. If her unwanted presence persisted, he would take action, even if his pony was displeased by it. “Look, I understand. She’s your owner, I’m not welcome, consider that part said. But she’s important to you, and to me. We don’t have to step on each other’s toes. I’m just asking for a halt to hostilities, a promise not to interfere with each other.” She had the nerve to ask that of all things, after causing his pony to become unpredictable? After taking his pony away from him for several days and leaving him in the care of the orange one? No. He just looked up at her, narrowing his eyes. She had not earned the right to ask anything of him. “Hostile, hostile.” The white one chuckled at him. “Angel, just consider it. I’ll even promise to ally with you, when our interests coincide. There are times I could get her to listen when you can’t.” He rolled his eyes, turning back to his meal. His pony listened to this one because she was mating with this one. Mates came and went. He was certain he would be there when the white one had tired of his pony. Hopefully she would regain her senses when this one was no longer around to addle them. He could understand a mate making one do odd things, and did not blame his pony for her actions. The white one sighed at him, and he took a moment to glare at her in response. Only his pony was forgiven for that. Only she had earned the right. “I suppose I was kidding myself. Very well, I’ll leave you to eat. For what it’s worth, I appreciate your efforts, even if they were horribly rude. She forgets, sometimes, that others might wish to take care of her.” He grunted in response. Of course she forgot. She always forgot. That was why she needed him. He would remind her as needed. Perhaps the next time it would not go badly. Perhaps the next time this one would be gone. “She wanted to make sure you got your salad, and your treat for being a good bunny. I’ll just leave the carrot cake here. I think perhaps I’ll have her come talk to you when she wakes up. She was more than a little frazzled, earlier.” He waved a forepaw dismissively. His pony was often frazzled. It was something he was accustomed to. She was most often frazzled after being around this one. He had come to recognize and be annoyed by this pattern of weekly addlement long ago. The only thing that had changed was this one seemed to be more persistent in her presence of late, which meant his pony did not have time to get over her condition. It was troubling. “Well, enjoy your meal, Angel. And... thank you, for looking out for her. I’ll try to do the same.” Angel looked at her for a long moment, then went back to eating. He did not require her thanks, or her help. Indeed, his life would be easier if she would simply absent herself. He had even considered absenting himself in response, but... his pony needed him. So long as his pony loved him, that was enough. He would stay with her. The white one finally left, leaving him to his meal. Her words, despite his efforts to ignore them, stayed with him. She was troublesome, and made his pony act oddly. But... his pony seemed happier with this one nearby. Perhaps it was worthwhile to let his pony be happy. If the white one made his pony happy, she could be tolerated for a time. Mates were to be enjoyed, while they lasted. He recalled a few of his own fondly. There were occasions in which he sought the same one out again. Mates were pleasant, at times. He did not begrudge his pony’s wish to have one. Perhaps, for his pony, he could try. Luna regarded the assemblage below with an impassive expression. “All right. I will admit, my methods may have been a bit showy, Middy.” “A bit?” Midnight asked, his pupils dilated in panic as he watched the line to get into court grow ever longer. They were both standing at her tower balcony, watching the undulating mass of pony extend from the castle entrance to the front gate. “Well, I wanted everypony to pay attention! You saw how those idiots in the press room ignored the speech you prepared! And you worked very hard on that speech!” Luna said, slapping a hoof to her railing for emphasis. “You have to admit, they did pay attention.” “Pay attention? Your Majesty, the Geological Society sent in reports of tremors from halfway across Equestria! I daresay you got a lot of attention.” Midnight shook his pill bottle, sighing when it made less noise than he’d apparently hoped. “Also, Cloudsdale is asking you to please leave the weather to them in the future, or at least to warn them before you unleash unauthorized thunderstorms in all directions.” “Bah! The Weather Bureau was overdue for an emergency drill in any case. They’ve gotten complacent. Do you have any notion how horrid it was trying to clean up after Discord? Those pegasi were true masters of the skies, and I was proud to fly with them. Nothing like the lazy featherbrained—” “Be that as it may, Majesty, it hardly addresses the current problem of why you went off-script.” Midnight tapped his folder meaningfully. “We worked on that speech for hours, to ensure that this—” he pointed below at the crowd which had given up on forming a line and was now a milling crowd, “—wouldn’t happen.” Luna winced, flashing him a very guilty grin. “I got carried away. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve given a proper address?” “A bit over a thousand years, I’m guessing,” Midnight replied wryly. “But that’s no excuse, princess! You cannot frighten the people as you have without repercussions!” “Well, that is very clear now,” Luna said, raising a single eyebrow at him. “But it’s not very helpful advice after the fact.” “I’m not sure what you expect of me, princess. I very carefully crafted an address designed to calm everypony’s fears, and you instead flew to the highest point in the city, blotted out the sky, and then shouted at them that your sister was gone.” Midnight opened the bottle, retrieved two pills, and downed them with a glass of water. “Oh, and then apparently you invited everypony in hearing range, which was the entire city, to come to court if they had questions. To be frank, you’re lucky only half of them seem to have come.” Luna looked down at the crowd with a frown. “They’re not going to fit,” she mused thoughtfully. “I think that’s a given!” Midnight said with a half-crazed laugh. “The best advice I can give you now is to cancel court, and make a new announcement, this time actually using the media as it’s intended!” “No,” Luna said, shaking her head. “No, these ponies came to me because they are concerned. I won’t turn them away simply because of spacial constraints.” She thought for a moment, her face lighting up as she had an idea. “Middy, I need you to alert the guards to organize all of my citizens into the courtyard. That is where court will be held, for today.” “You... you can’t hold court there!” Midnight blurted out. “Of course I can.” Luna said with a smile. “Why do you think it’s called a courtyard?” “Majesty, that’s not what I—” “Tia would have them gather when they came in numbers too large to see in the throne room.” Luna continued, oblivious to his interruption. “Now please, alert the guard. I’d gather the crowd myself, but I think perhaps I may be inclined to be showy again.” “But I... that is... how do you propose to address them all?” Luna just smirked mischieviously. “Right,” Midnight said, pushing his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. “Of course. But how on earth will they address you in turn?” “To be honest, it will be much easier to speak en masse to them rather than as individuals. Ponies are rather simple when gathered in mobs.” Luna stood over the railing, getting ready to make herself heard. “Go, Middy. Get the ones milling about inside the castle back out here where I may speak to them.” She stood proud and tall on her balcony, looking down at the crowd below. “Good morning, my citizens! We fear there is too little room for thee in our court, and so we ask thee to organize thyselves into a slightly less unruly mob while we gather the rest of the petitioners!” A chorus of panicking voices answered her, and she strained her ears to make out words amongst the din. “Patience, please!” Luna called down to them. “We understand thou art concerned for our sister, and thy questions will be answered, but first we wish to ensure that all who have come can hear us.” The crowd quieted somewhat, though conversation did not cease amongst them. She wondered how best to hear each of them. She supposed she could bring each of them up to her if needed, though a quick glance at the numbers below told her that may take some time. She mulled that over during the time it took for Midnight to go talk to the guard and coordinate the remaining petitioners into the courtyard. Unfortunately, she had no easy answers for the problem. Tia had never had such issues as far as she could recall— She smacked a hoof lightly onto her forehead. Of course she hadn’t. Because Tia hadn’t tried to hold court from her balcony. She had simply walked amongst them and addressed them each in turn. Luna sighed, wishing mightily that her sister was here now, even if only to advise her. She looked down at the crowd with trepidation. Even if she wished to walk amongst that mass of pony, she wasn’t certain she could do so. “Majesty, we’ve gathered the crowd.” Midnight announced as he reentered her chambers. “They seem very anxious. Many fear for Celestia; some wish to know if they might be able to send flowers or other gifts... There were one or two that needed to apply for medical benefits due to accidents related to your speech...” She only half-listened to him. While having a general sense of their fears was good, it would not help her do more than make another speech. These ponies wished to be heard, not talked down to. And that finally gave her an idea. Sound manipulation was a speciality of hers, after all, and this was a mere application of it. At the base of her tower, she cast an arcane rune, invisible in the shadows of the courtyard, for it was crafted of those same shadows. Below her hooves, she made a twin rune. Their function was very simple: one would gather sound, the other would bring that sound to her. She immediately found reason to regret her decision as the gentle murmur from below erupted from her feet in a full blown roar of an angry mob. She quickly reacted by cutting the connection, taking a moment to gather herself once more. “What...” Midnight huffed, “What was that?” “Vox Populi,” Luna said with a grin. “It’s a bit overwhelming, I know. I’ll have to dampen the volume a bit until I can get them to calm down.” “Are you enjoying this?” Midnight demanded. “There is a crowd of angry ponies in your courtyard!” “I am, and there is.” Luna smiled even wider. “But anger is an emotion I know well. It’s an honest emotion, it does not hide itself with subtlety behind glasses of wine. I prefer anger over disdain any day, because anger I can confront, and battle, with words and actions!” She spun around to face the balcony railing once more. “Citizens! Thy princess calls court to order! We ask that thou remain silent while we hear each of thee!” Even without the spell to carry their words to her, Luna could tell the sounds below were actually getting louder. She frowned, and raised her hooves to bring them crashing down on her balcony with a magically amplified stomp. “Silence!” she uttered in a dark, ominous tone. Below, everypony quieted and looked up as one, not daring to emit another sound. “Excellent!” Luna said, smiling once more. “Now, who amongst thee will speak first? We are ready for thy petitions!” To her consternation, nopony stepped forward. Upon reestablishing the rune, she did not hear a peep from anypony. “Come now, we await your concerns! Send forth the first of your number so that we may begin!” Luna prompted the crowd, doing her best to withhold the full power of her voice so as not to cause yet more panic in the ponies below.  There was still no sound from below, but she finally did see movement. The crowd parted, and two ponies stepped forward to stand directly below her. “Hello there, Princess!” a familiar voice called up to her. “Goodness, it’s a bit crowded down here. I can hardly blame you for staying up there.” “Mon Amie! That was quite the show you put on! But I think perhaps you’ve made these poor ponies nervous, non?” “Princess?” Twilight asked quietly, “Are you all right?” The princess didn’t reply, taking a moment to empty a cup of coffee before she even attempted speech. “No,” she said at last. “I am not.” Pinkie sat down at one end of the study table, noticeably not sitting next to Celestia or Twilight, she looked unsure if she was supposed to be here, but she’d been asked to stay, so she’d stayed. “Celly, why aren’t you okay? Did I do something wrong?” “Pinkie, I don’t think it was you—” Twilight said, quickly. “Neither of you are to blame, my little ponies,” Celestia said, cutting Twilight off. “I was very foolish to think I could just come here and help you through your troubles without complications. But... I am so sorry, for what that is worth.” “Wait, no!” Pinkie said quickly. “It wasn’t your—” “No, Princess, it was all my fault!” Twilight protested. “I... I don’t know if I can ever make up for that betrayal of trust, but please—” She turned to her marefriend and fixed her with the same pleading look she had given the princess. “Pinkie...” “You love her, right?” Pinkie smiled at her, but though Twilight had trouble reading her marefriend’s facial expressions, even she could tell it was false. “No—” Twilight wanted to shake her head vigorously, but it turned into an uncertain nod instead. “Yes? I love you, Pinkie, you have to believe me. But...” she turned back to Celestia. “A part of me has always loved her. I… I can’t help it.” She teared up and buried her head beneath her hooves. “Why do I have to make a mess of everything I ever do?!” Pinkie immediately scrambled around the table to hug her. “It’s okay! Really!” she said, nuzzling Twilight urgently as if the physical comfort could solve everything. It did help, somewhat, but Twilight could not help but feel she’d betrayed the princess and Pinkie at the same time. All because she was weak, and pathetic. She finally dared look at the princess and found that Celestia was just looking at her with a hollow, beaten look in her eyes. The princess looked so tired, and... almost lost. Princess Celestia always knew what to do. But now, because of her stupid student, she didn’t seem to know at all. “Twilight...” the princess said finally. “Do you... do you even know why you love me?” “Why?” Twilight blurted out. “You’re the princess! You’re just...” she trailed off at the look in Celestia’s eyes. This was a test, and she was failing; she could tell. “Wait, please—” “Nevermind,” Celestia said quickly. “It doesn’t matter. I’m going home. Maybe you two can help each other, but my presence here is only going to hurt you more.” Having said that, Celestia straightened up. “Twilight, she loves you. Pinkie loves you more than she loves anything, and she would do anything for you. But you need to do something for her.” “What?” Twilight asked, her mind still racing. She’d said the wrong thing, and the princess had been disappointed. But she had no idea what the right answer could have been. “Give her your whole heart. You’ve been holding back, and she can tell. You must stop hiding behind masks.” Celestia held Twilight’s gaze for a long time, but eventually turned to Pinkie. “Pinkie Pie, you are a wonderful pony. Never ever question that. In some ways, you’re a much better pony than I am. Make her happy. I know you can.” “No, wait!” Pinkie said quickly. “Why do you have to go? You... you can’t just go!” “Yes I can, Pinkie.” “But what about—” Pinkie clamped her mouth shut, her eyes flicking to Twilight, then back to Celestia. “That... doesn’t matter, Pinkie. Sometimes, we must accept that it was not to be.” Celestia flashed Pinkie Pie a smile. “I’ll be fine.” “Wait.” Twilight said, looking between the two of them. “What aren’t you telling me? Pinkie? Is this a Promise?” she asked, looking suspiciously at her marefriend. Pinkie just shook her head, clamping her mouth shut. “Princess, did you ask her not to tell me something?” Twilight asked, turning to Celestia. “I did. And I will ask you not to pressure her about it. It was an understanding between us,” Celestia replied. “I won’t tell her, but you should,” Pinkie said defiantly. “She should know!” “I should know what?” Twilight demanded, looking straight at her teacher. “Twilight... there are things that don’t need to be said, things that would only—” “No,” Twilight said vehemently. “I don’t care if it might hurt my feelings, I’ve been watching my friends hide things from each other and it’s not helping any of them! I won’t pressure Pinkie, but whatever it is, you should tell me!” She simply held the princess’s gaze. “Please?” The princess looked back, not saying a word. Eventually, she dropped her gaze, sighing. “Don’t ask that of me, Twilight.” “I have to,” Twilight replied, refusing to look away. “Earlier, you asked me a question, and you looked at me like I’d just failed a test. If you don’t tell me what it’s about, I’ll wonder for the rest of my life how I failed you.” “You didn’t!” Celestia insisted, raising her head to meet Twilight’s eyes once more. “You’ve never failed me, Twilight.” “Then tell me, please,” Twilight said, quietly. “Tell me so I can know that I didn’t fail.” Celestia hesitated, breaking eye contact as she thought. Eventually, she turned back to Twilight. “I’ll tell you, if you can answer a simple question to my satisfaction. You kissed me earlier. Why?” Twilight just stared for a moment, not quite believing the princess was asking about that. It was bad enough she’d done it, but this seemed cruel. “I… I told you,” Twilight stammered, blushing furiously. “I just… I had to.” The princess shook her head, “You’ve been close to me before, Twilight. And from what you’ve told me, you’ve felt this way for most of your adult life. Tell me what made you kiss me at that moment.” Celestia looked at her expectantly. She was being tested again, and she had no idea what answer her teacher wanted. “I… I’ve... always seen you as that perfect goddess you talked about,” Twilight admitted, hoping maybe that was what her teacher wanted to hear. Celestia just nodded, sadly. “There is no point, then. I’ll spare you—” “Wait! I’m not done!” Twilight said quickly. She’d failed again. That wasn’t the answer, apparently. She kicked herself; of course her teacher didn’t want to be flattered. She just wanted to know why. “Please let me finish?” The princess hesitated, but lowered her eyes in assent. “Go on, then.” “I… ever since I approached you, I’ve always seen you as that. You were somepony I aspired to be like, somepony I loved, but I couldn’t ever see you as somepony I could... touch, or who could ever love me.” Twilight took a deep breath, then forged ahead quickly, before she could consider her words. “But... for a moment, when I saw you struggle in your memories, you were... just a pony, and... I wanted to kiss you,” Twilight finished in a rush. “I know I was wrong to do it, but—” Twilight stopped when she realized the princess... No, not the princess, Celestia was crying. She’d failed, she’d failed and now she’d hurt Celestia. “Celestia, please, I’m sorry! I—” The princess reached out and touched her shoulder, and her eyes, though wet, looked... happy? Maybe she hadn’t failed? “Twilight...you weren’t wrong. I love you. I love you so much it hurts. So much that it’s driving me... That’s what I swore Pinkie to secrecy about.” She dropped the hoof from her shoulder, and Twilight just stared at her, flabbergasted. “I… I had no right to tell you that, but you’re right; you should know.” Celestia looked at her a moment longer, then cupped Twilight’s chin in her gold-shod forehoof, kissing her. She held the kiss for what seemed like an eternity, then broke away, smiling gently. “You are a wonderful, wonderful pony, and I love you.” “What?” Twilight asked, unable to process what had just happened. She turned to Pinkie to see if this was maybe the world’s most elaborate and cruel prank, and was immediately knocked to the ground by a blast from the party cannon. “Woohoo!” Fluttershy woke slowly, still feeling sleep weighing heavy on her limbs. She’d need more sleep later on, but she couldn’t afford to go completely nocturnal during this season. Too many of her animal friends depended on her being active with them. With that in mind, she forced herself out of bed, gradually waking her body up with little stretches. The position of the sun told her it wasn’t very late yet, around mid-afternoon or so. So she was in time to make sure her friends were fed dinner and still had time to make herself something nice as well before she settled down for the evening. She stepped into her tub, allowing the hot water to wash away the remaining fatigue, and the little aches and pains of having gone too long without sleep. As she showered, she went over her usual list of which animals needed tending to in what order. Angel Bunny was normally fairly high on the list already, but today she was making him a priority, since she’d been cross with him earlier. He had been a bad bunny, but with a little more sleep and a little less stress weighing on her mind, she felt like she’d been harsher with him than was necessary at the time. She still planned to scold him just a little, though. Throwing food was not something she found acceptable even if he was trying to get her to pay attention to him, never mind why he was doing it. Having finished her shower, she wrapped her mane in a towel, trotting back to the bedroom to groom herself. She felt much better than she had when she’d laid down. Rarity seemed like she was back to normal, though she had mentioned something about her memory of her time under the spell’s influence being a bit fuzzy, which was worrisome. But if the worst that came of that whole mess was having to remind Rarity of what happened, that was a blessing. She brushed out her mane, musing on what she might need tell Rarity. She wondered if it might be better just to hold some things back, though. If she’d forgotten, was it important for Rarity to know that Fluttershy had gotten jealous of Luna’s intentions? She pursed her lips, her face scrunching up in the memory of their fight over Luna. She’d been so very upset at the time, and she wasn’t really looking forward to having to explain herself all over again. She reluctantly decided that it was better to gloss over any mention of it. Luna was a nice enough pony, but after everything that had happened, it might be best to allow some space for a good long time. She really didn’t like what she felt when she thought about the princess. The whole thing just made her upset. Maybe it would be nice to make up with her, later on. It didn’t have to be anytime soon, Luna was going to be busy for a while, anyway. She nodded, satisfied with her conclusions. She just wasn’t ready to talk anymore about Luna at that moment. That wasn’t quite the same as holding a grudge. Better to just let sleeping dogs lie. Well, except for when they needed to be fed. Dogs usually didn’t mind being woken up for food. Or for pettings. Actually that phrase seemed to make less sense the more she thought about it. It really should have been about sleeping cats, since those tended to get very upset when you woke them from a nap for much of anything. They preferred food and pettings on their own terms, and got quite cross when you attempted to impose your own. Well, she had both cats and dogs and other animals to feed, and that wasn’t happening by her sitting down fussing with her mane and thinking about princesses who had upset her. She got up, leaving her room and walking down the stairs. Rarity didn’t seem to be in the living room, which was worrisome, but she was bound to be inside the cottage somewhere. A quick search through the kitchen and pantry proved fruitless, however. Maybe she’d gone home? There was a bowl and spoon drying on her counter, so at least Rarity seemed to have eaten. Her heart sank at the idea of Rarity going home, however. They’d spent every moment together for the last few days, and... she’d really enjoyed it, even if much of it had been spent doing things she’d rather have just avoided. But, she supposed, this is what she had wanted, even if she hadn’t considered what it would entail. Being with Rarity would mean occasionally going on trips, meeting famous ponies, and lots of Rarity’s special brand of drama. Maybe... maybe she could convince her to make time for quiet, too. That would be nice. Oh! The spa is quiet! I could ask her to go there with me more often. She badly wanted some quiet time after all of the loudness of princesses and parties and magic gone wrong. Quiet was good. The next time anypony screamed around her, it should be for the right reasons. Bad Fluttershy. Not right now. “Opal! Don’t be a bad kitty!” Fluttershy’s ear turned in surprise at the sudden shouting. Oh. Well, that’s a good reason too, I suppose. She hadn’t left after all. That was nice. It would have been okay if she had, of course. But it was nicer that she hadn’t. Fluttershy looked out of her window at the yard outside, spotting Rarity being followed by a floating mass of various feed bags, seeds, and a barrel of water. Opal was amusing herself by batting at her tail as she trotted around the yard, feeding the various animals. “Oh! That’s nice,” Fluttershy said, smiling happily. She hadn't really expected Rarity to feed them all their dinners. “Opal, so help me—Ow!” “Maybe I should help her,” Fluttershy said to herself as she rushed out the door. She clucked at the cat to get its attention. “Opal, come here please.” The cat immediately turned tail and padded her way to Fluttershy, as if that had been her plan all along. Fluttershy reached down to gently scratch Opal’s head with a forehoof, smiling apologetically at Rarity. “Sorry, but you should have woken me up. I would have been glad to have gotten any help at all. You didn’t need to do it by yourself.” Rarity watched her traitorous cat with murder in her eyes, but upon seeing Fluttershy she smiled, though to Fluttershy, it seemed strained. “I wanted to let you sleep as long as you needed, sweetness. And I was doing just fine, until Opal decided it was time to play.” She grumbled under her breath as she rubbed the end of her tail where Opal had pulled some hairs loose. “Sleep well, I hope?” “Oh yes. I slept very well, thank you,” Fluttershy replied, shooing Opal away to make mischief elsewhere. “Do you want some help?” “Nearly done, darling. I kept the soup warm if you want some. Why don’t you fetch yourself a bowl?” “All right,” Fluttershy said, watching for a few more moments while Rarity filled the various feed dishes and watering troughs. It seemed as though she did indeed have matters in hoof, which allowed Fluttershy to retreat into the house to feed herself in peace. She hummed happily as she sawed off a slice of bread and buttered it, placing it on a plate. This was exactly what she wanted, a little peace and quiet with nothing blowing up. She poured herself some soup then set the bowl and plate down in front of her, plopping down on her couch with a big smile on her face. Everything was finally okay. Unfortunately, it always seemed that as soon as everything seemed calm and peaceful in her life, something always managed to go wrong or blow up in her face and create a whole new problem. It was like the universe despised the peace she so enjoyed. That wasn’t going to happen this time, though. She glanced around, holding the smile on her face, daring the universe to take this moment of respite from her. The universe wisely kept to itself, leaving her to harrumph victoriously and start in on her soup. Another day, she might have worried, but not today. In another few moments, Rarity came back in, towing her cloud of feed bags. “Well, that’s done.” She settled down next to Fluttershy after stowing the food in the pantry. “Oh, I see you managed just fine.” “Did you need me to get you some soup?” Fluttershy asked as she finished her bread and butter. “No, sweetness. I’ll get some later. If you don’t mind, I think I’d like to snuggle up next to you for a while.” “Oh, that’s fine.” Today was nice.