//------------------------------//
// Chapter 9 - Birthenfreude 
// Story: Twilight Sparkle of the Royal Guard: The Rising 
// by King of Beggars 
//------------------------------//

It had been two months since Twilight had proposed. Publically, very little had changed for them in that time as far as their daily routines went. They’d decided to hold off on announcing their engagement, which meant that Cadance had been a bundle of nervous energy the whole time.

The blushing bride had gotten her hooves on copies of every bridal magazine published in the last year, telling the royal scribes and aides that she needed them for a research project – the ‘project’ being a scrapbook filled with ideas of things she wanted for their wedding. In the interests of keeping their surprise, that scrapbook had more enchantments and magical pass codes than the Starswirl the Bearded Wing of the Royal Archives, and there was no danger of the secret being let out early.

But the need for secrecy would be ending very soon.

Twilight lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling in a half-asleep daze. The curtains leading to the balcony were pulled open just a crack, letting in enough sunlight to throw back the darkness that she usually awoke to. She looked to the clock on her nightstand, blinking away the fuzziness in her vision until she could focus on the time. It was closer to lunch than breakfast, and the tightness in her stomach verified the clock’s report.

She settled back into her pillow with a soft yawn. Despite her hunger pangs, she was in no hurry to get up. She opened the balcony doors with her magic to let in some fresh air, and the warm spring breeze billowed the curtains. The sounds of birdsong filtered in from the gardens, mixing disharmoniously with the low, nasally whistle of Cadance’s snoring.

The heavy quilted comforter they’d used all winter had been replaced with a thin silk sheet that was much cooler. Cadance had still managed to kick her half off in the middle of the night. The alicorn princess was hugging a pillow to her chest like she was afraid it would escape, and her head was lying directly on the mattress. She was drooling again, and the dark puddle had soaked the sheets around her face.

Cadance’s mane was a tangled mess of knots, and the last remnants of her makeup were smeared on her cheeks and around her eyes. Cadance hadn’t had time to remove the makeup after dinner before they’d found themselves in bed. She stank like drool and sweat and sex, and she couldn’t be more beautiful.

Twilight turned onto her side and brushed back the loose strands of hair that had fallen over Cadance’s face. Despite Twilight’s careful touch, Cadance’s snoring stopped as she sleepily groaned and released her pillow to hold Twilight’s hoof against her cheek.

“What time is it?” Cadance mumbled as she nuzzled against Twilight’s captured hoof.

“Half past ten,” Twilight answered. “The alarm clock didn’t go off.”

“I turned it off,” Cadance said with a yawn. She threw aside the pillow she’d been hugging and crawled back under the sheet, snuggling closer until they were sharing Twilight’s pillow. “And I told the maids we were sleeping in.”

Cadance tilted her head up, her lips puckered for a kiss, and Twilight obliged. The side of Cadance’s face that had been marinading in drool smelled like morning breath, but Twilight was certain she probably didn’t smell much better.

“Happy birthday,” Cadance said as she buried her face into Twilight’s neck. “Today’s the big day.”

Twilight grunted in agreement. Everypony they knew would be at Twilight’s birthday party, and Cadance had had the idea to use it as an opportunity to announce their engagement to their friends and family.

It was a big secret to carry around for all that time. They’d nearly had a few slip ups where they’d almost prematurely let the cat out of the bag. The closest call had been when Cadance had dreamed about their wedding, and Luna had coincidentally peeked into her dreams just in time to catch Cadance and Dream-Twilight exchanging vows. Luckily, the entire wedding party being made up of enormous gummy bears had been enough to throw Luna off the trail.

But that secret would be out after today. Their family and friends would know, and all the staff that was within earshot would know, then the entire castle, all of the Guard, all of Canterlot, then eventually all of Equestria would know that Princess Mi Amore Cadenza would be marrying her personal guard.

A lot would change for Twilight come the next day. Not the least of which was the fact that she’d have to begin the paperwork for her own discharge.

She’d be leaving the Royal Guard.

Not even a year in, and already she was leaving behind the thing she’d spent nearly two full decades living and breathing for. It was unavoidable, though. When she took Cadance as her wife – or, more accurately, when Cadance took her – she wouldn’t be Decurion Twilight Sparkle, she’d be Princess Consort Twilight Sparkle.

Traditionally, one could not be a Royal Guard while also being royalty.

It hurt, thinking about what she was giving up, but it was worth it. If anything was worth hanging up her armor, it was Cadance.

“Twilight, are you okay?” Cadance suddenly asked, concern clear in her voice. “Your heart just started beating really fast.”

“I’m fine, it’s just nerves,” Twilight said, laughing sheepishly.

Cadance snuggled in closer, draping a wing over them as they cuddled. “Is it about announcing the engagement?”

Twilight hesitated, not wanting to burden Cadance with her worries, but she realized how wrongheaded that was. They’d been together for almost a year, and Twilight had heard Cadance counsel couples enough to know that this was something she couldn’t keep to herself.

“Yeah,” Twilight admitted.

Twilight sighed as she felt Cadance lightly stroke her chest, running her hoof over the spot above her heart like she was trying to gently pull the worries out of her. Twilight could tell that Cadance knew what was bothering her – Cadance always knew.

“I’m sorry,” Cadance said, her voice softly ringing with regret. “I’m sorry for what you have to give up today to be with me…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Twilight reassured her, giving the top of Cadance’s head a kiss. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Yes it is,” Cadance insisted. She sat up in bed and the sheet fell away with a whisper of silk against her coat. “Being in the Royal Guard has been your dream since you were a filly. And now, because of me… because of who I am… you have to give that up so we can be together.”

Twilight sat up and nuzzled her face against Cadance’s. “You’re my dream, Cadance. I just never knew it until I met you.”

Cadance let out watery chuckle as she let herself be pulled into a hug. “That’s such a line,” she said. “You’ve already got me into bed. You don’t have to work so hard.”

“Yeah, sure, laugh at my earnest feelings,” Twilight said with a pout and feigned offense.

Twilight pulled Cadance back down onto the bed and they resumed their previous position. They had things to do, but it just felt like one of those slow-start days.

“Do you think I’ll be a good princess?” Twilight asked.

“I know you will. Are you worried that you won’t be?”

Twilight shrugged as much as she was able to with Cadance nearly lying atop her. “I think that I’ve spent a very long time preparing myself to do a certain job, and now I’m about to experience a change of career that I’m completely unready for… Luna and Princess Celestia have centuries of experience, and the finest tutors in Equestria prepared you for your station. I’m just a soldier. Give me a unit, maybe even a whole squad, I’ll lead them just fine. You give me a nation?” Twilight shook her head in disbelief, overwhelmed by the very thought of leading a whole country. “I have no clue what to even begin doing with something like that.”

“We’re not going to just throw you to the wolves the second you take the crown, Twilight,” Cadance snickered. “My aunts and I will be there to help you. We’ll make sure you never bite off more than you can chew, at least until you’ve got your hooves under you.”

“So I’ll just be a trophy wife?” Twilight asked, frowning at the image that conjured in her mind.

“Hardly,” Cadance said. “I know you. You think you’re not prepared so you’re going to be studying your cute little butt off trying to get up to speed. I’m sure you’ll be terrorizing the nobles in very short order with your mastery of courtly procedure. And it’s not like you haven’t been shadowing me for months. You’ve already got a pretty good leg-up on what it takes to do the job.”

“Oh, great,” Twilight said snarkily, “I’ve been reclassified from trophy wife to intern.”

Cadance snorted. “You do make a tasty cup of coffee... and you take great dictation.”

“That sort of double entendre doesn’t work, love,” Twilight said with a roll of her eyes. “We’re both girls.”

“Guess my joke really got the shaft,” Cadance countered.

Twilight moaned in pain at the forced joke. “One more of those and I’ll smother you with a pillow.”

“You’re being awfully cocky.”

Twilight made a show of trying to rise from bed. She lifted a few inches off the mattress, groaning like she was trying to move while an incredible weight was pressing down on her, one hoof grasping half-heartedly at the air for something to help heave herself out of bed. She held up the charade for a few seconds and fell back to the mattress with a dramatically defeated sigh.

“Not worth it,” Twilight muttered. “The birthday laziness has taken me.”

Cadance giggled happily. “I love it when you’re silly.”

“I learned it from watching you,” Twilight pointed out.

They lay in bed for a while longer, enjoying the sounds of spring and one another’s companionship. The steady beating of Cadance’s heart against hers nearly lulled Twilight back to sleep.

It was a perfect moment of slow, flawless contentment. All her nervousness and stress faded to background noise as her world compressed into a space just large enough to hold against herself in bed. As far as birthday gifts went, this moment was a pretty good one.

Cadance gently shook her, breaking the spell of their perfect life-moment. “Hey, don’t fall asleep,” she said. “We need to get up.”

“No,” Twilight muttered.

“Yes,” Cadance insisted as she threw off the covers and stretched herself outside like a cat. “Get up. I’ll even let you have first shot at the bathroom.”

“Fine,” Twilight said with a sigh as she rolled out of bed.

She went to the bathroom, stopping to check her appearance in the mirror as she passed the sink. Cadance’s lipstick from the night before was smeared around her mouth, and a line of the stuff traced along her collarbone. Twilight ran her hoof under the sink and tried to wipe some of it off, but it had stubbornly worked itself into her fur, so she decided to ignore it in favor of relieving the pressure in her bladder.

Twilight didn’t bother closing the door. Cadance had a very fluid concept of personal boundaries, so it wasn’t anything she hadn’t walked in on before. That they’d long ago crossed that particular point of comfort with one another was a milestone in their relationship, according to Cadance. Though, that might have just been something she’d picked up from those fashion and lifestyle magazines she liked.

“Before I forget, there’s this dress I wanted to show you last night,” Cadance shouted through the open door.

“Another one?” Twilight shouted back. “Didn’t you already decide on that one with the really long train and the gold trimming?”

“No, no, not for me,” Cadance replied, “for you!”

Twilight finished up and went to wash her hooves. “Cadance, I told you, I’m not wearing a dress.”

“Oh, come on,” Cadance said in a pleading whine as she walked into the bathroom. The scrapbook filled with her wedding ideas was floating above her head. “At least look at it.”

“Cadance, I’m holding fast on this one,” Twilight said firmly. “I may have to quit the Guard, but I’m getting married in my dress uniform.”

Cadance set the book on the sink counter and began flipping through the pages until she found what she was looking for. “Just look at it,” she insisted, tapping the page with her hoof.

Twilight sighed and examined the picture. “Well… I admit it is pretty.”

“Right?” Cadance said excitedly. “And I know you have… issues with wearing virgin-white…”

“After everything I’ve let you do to me, it’d be a lie, Cadance,” Twilight said, half-jokingly.

“Yeah, yeah, you have scruples,” Cadance said dismissively, “but that’s why this dress works.” She tapped the magazine clipping again. “As you can plainly see, this isn’t ‘pure’ white. It’s, uh… a shade between off-white and eggshell.”

Twilight’s eyebrow went up at the slight hesitation in Cadance’s voice. “Uh-huh… what’s it’s called?”

Cadance averted her eyes, fixing her gaze solidly on the magazine clipping as she toyed with the corner of the page. She mumbled something too low to hear.

“I didn’t catch that,” Twilight said, leaning forward and turning an ear towards Cadance.

Cadance cleared her throat. “They, ah, call it ‘whore’s-white’...”

Twilight snapped the book closed, nearly catching Cadance's hoof. “Cadance, no! I am not wearing something called whore’s-white!”

“Come on, it’s just a name!” Cadance said, throwing her head back in exasperation. “I’m meeting you half way! Think about how hot you’ll look in a wedding dress!”

“Cadance, no!” Twilight repeated. “We can’t wear two different shades of white! Everypony at the wedding is going to think you’re a virgin and I’m not!”

They glared at one another, locking eyes in a contest of wills. Normally, Twilight would be at a disadvantage in such an exchange, but this was something she would not bend on. Their silent battle stretched on for what seemed like hours, until at last Cadance sat on her haunches with a defeated, frustrated groan.

“Okay, I can see you’re going to be stubborn about this, so let’s cut a deal,” Cadance began as she massaged her temples. “You can wear the uniform for the ceremony, but you’re still coming with me to try on dresses.” She held up a hoof, forestalling the argument building in Twilight’s throat. “You don’t have to buy one, you just have to try them on and model for me and your mom.”

Twilight chewed her lip thoughtfully. Her mind was already made up about wearing her dress uniform, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t see the appeal of an actual wedding dress. She might not be as dainty and ladylike as Cadance, but she was still a girl. She did want to at least try wearing a wedding dress, even if it was just in a showroom.

“Agreed,” Twilight said.

“And we get to take pictures,” Cadance added.

“Fine,” Twilight agreed, after a moment of hesitation. “As long as the pictures never leave the family photo albums, that’s okay with me.”

“Wonderful!” Cadance sang, clapping her hooves excitedly. “See? You’re already learning diplomacy!”

Cadance levitated the book along, flipping it back open and humming a wedding march to herself as she went to do her business. Twilight went to the shower and got the water started.

She could already tell that this was going to be one of those days.


* * *


The Canterlot train station was as busy as ever. Even in the middle of the day, ponies stood around with briefcases, saddlebags, and suitcases. Most alternated between reading  and occasionally looking up to check the clock.

Twilight sat one of the waiting benches towards the back of the station, away from the crowd impatiently pressed together at the edge of the platform. She looked up at the board displaying the schedule, noting that the posting regarding the train from Ponyville still read ‘On Time’.

She pursed her lips and blew raspberries as she idly swung her rear legs back and forth. Cadance was back at the castle, preparing one of the smaller ballrooms for the birthday party-slash-engagement reception. To that end, she had kicked Twilight out of the castle for the afternoon, which seemed both marvelously unfair and dramatically unnecessary. If Cadance wanted the decorations to be a surprise, all she had to do was ask Twilight to stay away from the southern wing of the castle.

Sure, Twilight would have peeked anyway, but Cadance had no way of knowing that. Ejecting her from the castle was a remarkable show of distrust.

At least Cadance wasn’t alone, as far as Twilight knew. Rarity had been in residence at the castle for the better part of a week as a guest of Cadance’s. The fashionable unicorn had approached Cadance over the Hearth’s Warming holiday for accommodations come spring, so that she could visit Canterlot in time to get in line with the newest spring fashions and get in touch with fabric suppliers.

She’d been very insistent on helping with the party once it was mentioned to her. Rarity had said it was the least she could do given the role Twilight had played in helping Fluttershy during the incident several months ago. Though, Twilight suspected Rarity might also be trying to score herself a few points with her beau’s little sister.

Either way, it was very sweet.

Banished from the castle as she was, Twilight had very few options to kill time until the party later that evening. Normally she would see if Glowstone or Luna was free for a cup of coffee or something, but that wasn’t an option, since they were both in the castle – the castle she was forbidden from setting hoof in.

Her parents were likewise a non-option. She’d gone to her parents’ place as soon as she’d been kicked out of the castle, but nopony had been home. The nosey stallion next door – her father’s sometimes-friend, sometimes-rival – had poked his head over the hedge and said they’d left early that morning.

Lollipop was the next pony to pop into mind. A brisk walk had taken her to her friend’s house, but again she’d missed her intended target. Bit Coin, Lollipop’s fraternal twin brother, had answered the door. According to him, Lollipop had also left early that morning, saying she had business to attend to. He’d invited Twilight in, but judging from the sleepy look in his eyes and the disheveled state of his mane, she’d woken him from a nap. From what she knew he was still working overtime to cover the lost expenses from Lollipop’s suspension, so she’d declined and left him to enjoy his day off after making sure he knew he was invited to the party later that night.

With nopony else to visit, she’d sought refuge in a bookstore. Buying books and washing down stale muffins with mediocre ‘gourmet’ coffee had wasted a couple of hours – as well as lightened the coin purse tied to the straps of her chakram’s holster – and she likely would have spent the whole day there if an idea for an even better distraction hadn’t come to her.

Her brothers and the rest of their friends were supposed to arrive in Canterlot that afternoon to attend her birthday party. While she couldn’t claim to be as close to the girls as Shining and Spike were, she’d once had something of a slumber party with them, and they’d all spent a little bit of time together over Hearth’s Warming. She liked the girls that made up five-sixths of the Elements of Harmony, and was glad that they’d all managed to come down for her birthday.

The shrill, piercing wail of a train whistle filled the air, alerting everypony on the platform of the train’s arrival. Twilight resisted the urge to leap to her hooves as the train came chugging up the mountain. Within a few minutes the train pulled into the station, belching steam and smoke as the station crew rush to attend to the needs of the train and passengers alike.

Twilight caught a few familiar voices over the cacophony of ponies getting on and off the train. She followed the voices to a passenger car towards the rear of the train where Shining Armor was just stepping onto the platform.

“Hey, Shiny!” she shouted.

Shining Armor turned in her direction, a smile already on his face. “I recognize that voice,” he said happily. He trotted over and pulled her into a hug. “Happy birthday, Twily!”

Spike had noticed them and rushed over to join the greeting. “Happy birthday, Twi,” he said as he wrapped an arm around her neck and tousled her mane like when they were children.

The rest of their group wasn’t far behind, and Twilight gave thanks to the round of birthday greetings she was getting.

“Twilight, Twilight,” Pinkie Pie said excitedly as she bounced up and down in place. “I wrote a birthday song for you, and everypony said I should sing it tonight at the party, but you’re here and I didn’t expect you to be here so maybe I should sing it now, but maybe it’d be better to sing it when everypony else can hear it! Oh, or maybe I could sing it twice! Then you can hear it now and then again later!”

“Simmer down, Pinkie,” Applejack said with a grin as she stalled Pinkie’s bouncing by setting a hoof on her head. “You can sing your song later tonight.”

“I’d love to hear it later,” Twilight said in agreement. She’d been witness to one of Pinkie Pie’s performances before, and she knew that the bubbly girl tended to throw her whole body into the act of singing. A train station was dangerous enough without somepony flittering between train cars and dancing atop stacks of luggage.

Twilight felt something tapping at her flank and turned to find a small pegasus filly was jabbing at her scarred Cutie Mark with one hoof. There were two more fillies standing at other side of her, both looking at the little pegasus with stern, reproachful glares.

“Dagnabit, Scootaloo, quit poking her, that’s rude!” shouted the little yellow-coated earth pony.

“Dagnabit, Apple Bloom,” Applejack said with a stomp of her hoof, “what all did I tell you about using that kind of language?”

“Well it is!” Apple Bloom shouted in her own defense.

“She’s right,” the little white unicorn with the curly mane said in agreement. “It’s very rude. Rarity says you should always keep your hooves to yourself.”

“I just wanted to see if this awesome scar was real or not,” Scootaloo said as she sat on her haunches and crossed her arms over her chest in a huff. “Look how rad it is!”

“Scootaloo, that’s quite enough, young lady,” Fluttershy said with more authority than Twilight had ever heard in her voice. “It’s not nice to point out things like that. Some ponies are very sensitive about that sort of thing.”

Scootaloo was the one being scolded, but somehow all three fillies hung their heads in shame at Fluttershy’s lecture.

Twilight laughed and patted Scootaloo on the head. “That’s okay. You’re an inquisitive little bunch.”

“Sorry about that, Twi,” Spike said as he went up to the little unicorn and set her on his back. “You probably already figured it out, but this is Rarity’s little sister, Sweetie Belle. She heard that I was coming to visit Rares at the castle and she insisted on coming. Which meant that these two,” he gestured towards the other two fillies, “also insisted.”

“I heard about you girls over Hearth’s Warming,” Twilight said. She looked up to see that Applejack had stepped away to discuss something with one of the porters and was just returning to the group. “Apple Bloom, you’re Applejack’s sister, right?”

“Sure am,” the filly said with pride in her voice.

“So is it real or not?” Scootaloo asked, rudely blurting the question out. “And what’s that whizbee thing? Are you really into whizbee or something?”

“Yes, it’s real,” Twilight answered, ignoring the disbelieving glares the rest of the adults in their group were leveling at the girl. “And this,” she shrugged the shoulder her weapon was strapped against, “is a chakram. It’s sort of like a whizbee, but it’s not for playing – it’s part of my uniform.”

“Spike said you were in the Royal Guard,” Apple Bloom stated, seemingly emboldened by Twilight’s willingness to put up with Scootaloo’s questioning. “Does that mean you got that scar in a fight? Didn’t it hurt?”

Twilight shook her head in amusement. The adults were still wearing reproachful looks, but they all had the glimmer of curiosity in their eyes that said they wanted to hear about it, too. She’d met with them all a few times, but not even her brothers had ever been so blunt in asking about the wound that crossed her Cutie Mark. Adults knew better than to ask questions like that, but children didn’t have that sort of social filter.

“I got this protecting my friends,” Twilight explained, turning a little so the fillies could get a better look. “And yeah… it hurt a lot.”

For a while nopony said anything. The adults were unsure of what to say, and the fillies stood there silently, cowed by an admission that should have been obvious.

The train whistled, signaling that it was ready to depart. The stragglers waiting until the last moment to board the train rushed to make it aboard.

“Ah, sorry about that, Miss Twilight,” Applejack said apologetically as she stepped up to pull Apple Bloom to her side. Adding the ‘Miss’ to Twilight’s name was probably her way of trying to be respectful, which wasn’t necessary, but it was easier to let it slide than to make things more awkward by trying to correct her. “They’re just fillies, ya know? These three got Cutie Marks on the brain and they ain’t never seen a scar like yours. We ain’t got too many soldiering types in Ponyville.”

“And you gotta admit, Twilight,” Rainbow Dash added, moving in to claim Scootaloo, “it is a pretty rad scar.”

“It’s fine, really,” Twilight insisted, smiling the whole time. “I’m used to it. You think these fillies are bad? Try spending an hour in a room with a bunch of professional soldiers. You get enough grizzled stallions together and you’re going to end up seeing somepony’s scars – whether you want to or not.”

The group chuckled politely. They were clearly relieved that she wasn’t offended.

“Well, now that you’re all here,” Twilight began, hoping to ease a little more of the tension the inquisitive filly had unknowingly drummed up, “I’m kind of banned from the castle until the party, so why don’t we all go out for some ice cream or something? It’ll be my treat.”

Everypony’s ears perked up at the mention of free ice cream. Pinkie Pie and the three fillies seemed especially interested.

“Sorry, Twi,” Spike said, “but I think I have to pass. I haven’t seen Rarity all week and… you know…”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “I get it, go on. Go see your girlfriend, you lady-killer. It’s just more ice cream for the rest of us.”

“Afraid Bloom and I have to pass, too, sug,” Applejack added. She nodded towards a group of porters who were busy loading a stack of barrels with bright red bands onto a wagon. “We got business in the castle. Apparently they’re having some kind of shindig tonight and the guest of honor has a liking for Sweet Apple Acres’ finest Red Barrel Reserve.”

“I never pass up free ice cream!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed. “Eeeeexcept when I do. Sorry, Twilight, but there’s a party being planned and I just have to get a piece of that action.”

“And I promised AJ I’d help unload her barrels,” Rainbow Dash explained.

“I’d hate it if I didn’t do my share to pitch in for the party,” Fluttershy suggested. “Plus, I think everypony might need some help keeping an eye on the girls.”

Their excuses made, the group left together once Applejack and Rainbow Dash had hitched themselves to the wagon’s harness. The fillies had complained loudly about missing out on ice cream, but Pinkie had calmed them down by assuring them that there would be ice cream and cake at the party. They walked away shouting goodbyes and promises to see Twilight later that night as they left her standing alone on the platform.

Shining Armor must have read her mind, because he chose that exact moment to loudly clear his throat.

“I like ice cream,” he said with a smile.

“Okay, but you’re buying,” Twilight replied as she led the way to the shop.

“Aren’t you going to buy?”

“Oh, sure, make your little sister buy her own ice cream on her birthday,” Twilight said, drawing out her words in faux-dramatic fashion.

“Okay, okay, I’ll pay,” he conceded. An odd, thoughtful look crossed his features, and he chuckled lightly. “You know, I think the last time I bought you ice cream was… you were twelve.”

“Hm… sounds about right,” Twilight agreed. “I think that was my birthday, too.”

Shining Armor nodded. “It was, yeah. Mom and dad brought you home from school for the weekend, and they wanted me to get you out of the house so they could set up your surprise party.”

“Not too different from today, really,” Twilight said. She paused at an intersection to let a line of taxi carriages cross their path. Tourists were leaning out of the windows, snapping pictures at everything they passed, no matter how mundane. “Only difference is that I know the party is coming this time, and it’s not going to just be random foals from the neighborhood that only showed up for free cake. I’ve actually got friends coming.”

Twilight felt a bump against her shoulder as Shining nudged her. His face was split in a wide, knowing grin. “It’s nice to have friends, right?”

It was good to see him smiling so often. Moving to Ponyville, becoming friends with five oddball mares, and becoming the Element of Magic, had done wonders for his disposition. Sometimes she could still see the closed-in, nervous introvert he’d been, but good friends had slowly pushed that back.

The procession of taxis ended and the ice cream shop came into view just down the street. The shop was a small building nestled between two larger shops, just big enough to house the kitchen and counters, leaving room for an outdoor seating area filled with plastic patio furniture. It was sunny, springtime afternoon, so the shop was busy, but not packed enough to discourage them. They made their purchases – rocky road for Shining, and a caramel swirled prench vanilla for Twilight – and found a table in the corner of the dining area that wasn’t too sticky.

“So, you know that I have to ask,” Twilight said after they’d had a few mouthfuls, “how’re things going with your girls?”

“We’re doing fine,” Shining said.

“You know what I mean,” Twilight insisted, wagging her spoon at him.

Shining Armor wiped a few errant flecks of Twilight’s ice cream off his face and frowned. “We’re doing fine,” he replied with a bit more force.

“Still haven’t picked one of them, huh?”

“And I won’t be,” Shining Armor said insistently. “They’re my friends, Twilight. I’m not going to gamble that by trying to pursue anything romantic. Believe me, they feel the same way. If they didn’t they wouldn’t be constantly trying to ‘hook me up’,” he lifted his hooves and made little air quotes around the term, “with other mares.”

The spoon slipped from Twilight’s magical grasp and clattered loudly against the half-empty bowl. “Whoa, hold it. Stop. Back up. They’re doing what and why is this is the first I’m hearing of it?”

Shining flushed, lowering his eyes to the table in embarrassment. Twilight could tell that he must be thinking he’d said too much, but there was no way she was letting this go.

“Well?” she insisted, prodding him with a small shove of her magic against his shoulder.

“They keep… trying to get me to go on dates,” Shining said with a sigh. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, but I’m just not interested right now. I’m still so wrapped up in my studies of friendship that I don’t know if I can devote much energy to something like romance.”

“Oh, come off it, Shiny,” Twilight said, “nopony has the time for romance. You make the time.”

“That’s what Spike and the girls keep telling me.” Shining took his spoon with his magic and lazily swirled it around in the bowl, slowly melting the ice cream into soup. “It’s not like I wouldn’t like somepony special, I’m just kind of waiting for it to happen on its own, I guess.”

“That’s romantic in its own way, I suppose,” Twilight said around another mouthful of ice cream, “but you should still put yourself out there. If you find somepony you like, you should go for it. That’s what I did.”

Twilight decided to leave out the fact that it took nearly dying at the paws of an ancient, monstrously powerful deity from beyond this realm to prod her into acting on her first real romantic inclination. Her instincts – which were generally good and right – told her that that might undermine her point, somehow.

“I know,” he replied as he played with his soup. “It’d also probably put a stop to their zany schemes.”

Twilight’s ears perked up. “Nopony mentioned anything about zany schemes.”

“Oh yeah,” Shining said, chuckling. “You remember Trixie, that showmare I wrote to you about?”

“The braggart?”

He nodded. “She swore vengeance on me for embarrassing her. The girls got it into their heads, though, that it was just her way of saying she liked me.”

“Like a filly shoving you in the mud and running away giggling?” Twilight asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“Rainbow Dash used that exact same analogy!” Shining said, grinning at the coincidence. “But yeah, just like that. Anyway, Pinkie Pie tracked her down, somehow, and she and the other girls started sending Trixie letters pretending to be me in an attempt to…” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “You know, I don’t think they ever told me what they thought they were doing. I don’t think they had an end game for that plan.”

“A scheme with a purpose is just a scheme,” Twilight said philosophically, “purposelessness is what makes it zany.”

“Right? So apparently the letters got kind of flirty, and after a while Trixie gets it in her head to surprise her ‘boyfriend’ with a visit.”

“No!” Twilight exclaimed.

“Yes!” Shining said, finally getting into the spirit of telling the tale. “Imagine my surprise when I come home from a meeting with the mayor about topsoil conditions to find a trail of rose petals leading from the front door to upstairs. I follow the trail and find Trixie – who I hadn’t even thought about in months – on my bed, covered in rose petals and whipped cream, with sexy jazz music on the record player.”

Twilight chewed on her lip, barely holding back the torrent of giggles threatening to burst out of her. “What’d you do?”

“What could I do!?” Shining Armor asked, throwing his hooves into the air. “I just stared at her until my brain caught up with my eyes, and all I could think to say was, ‘This is the strangest revenge attempt I’ve ever seen.’ Then I backed out of the room and shut the door.”

Twilight doubled over, forehead pressed against the table, clutching her belly and convulsing with laughter at the image of her austere, bookish brother in such a compromising scene. She could almost see him standing there, gawping at a mare lying on his bed, his mouth agape in shock while saxophones blared with brassy seduction.

She was in public, and no doubt drawing some funny looks, but Twilight couldn’t help herself. Knowing that she was making a scene made the whole thing even funnier, and the realization launched her into a second round of chuckles. By the time she got her laughter under control her entire body hurt from the fit.

“My big brother,” Twilight said hoarsely, wiping tears from her eyes, “the master of seduction. Who knew Shining Armor, of all ponies, had game?”

“Who knew my little sister was the type to say that somepony ‘had game’?” Shining Armor replied snarkily. “And it’s funny, now, I suppose, but at the time it was very confusing. Trixie certainly wasn’t happy about it. She accused me of planning the whole thing from the beginning to embarrass her and ran out of town so fast that she tripped and fell on her face. I don’t think she really believed I had anything to do with it, though.”

“What makes you think that?”

Shining brought the bowl to his lips and slurped the soup noisily. “Because a week later I got another letter from her,” he explained. “All it had was a return address, the message ‘Just in case’, and a… uh, I think the term is a selfie picture… a saucy one.”

“You got a Prench Postcard from her?” Twilight asked in disbelief. She leaned forward, flashing her most impish grin. “You kept the picture?”

Shining Armor flushed again and cleared his throat. “It would’ve been rude not to,” he quietly replied as he lifted the bowl for another sip.

“Well I’m glad you’ve got something going,” Twilight said encouragingly. “Anypony else you’ve got your eye on, or maybe has their eye on you?”

“I think the mayor might have a thing for me,” Shining Armor admitted with a shrug. “I don’t know about that, though. Cheerilee’s also been asking after me a lot, according to the Crusaders.” Twilight shot him a questioning look and he added, “The three fillies you met today, they call themselves the Cutie Mark Crusaders, because they’re still trying to figure out their talents.”

“Ah, I see,” Twilight said. She scooped the last of the melted sludge from her bowl and pushed it aside. “Is this Cheerilee… one of their little friends or something?”

“No,” Shining Armor insisted, “she’s their teacher.”

“School teacher, huh?” Twilight said, rubbing her chin contemplatively. That seemed more Shining Armor’s speed than a showmare. Quiet nights in front of a fire with a book, snuggling up and discussing lesson plans – definitely the kind of thing she could see working for her brother. Though, romance was odd, and for all she knew maybe a slightly-unhinged illusionist was a good balance to his personality. “Interesting…”

Something in her face must have unnerved Shining. He pushed his own bowl away and leaned back in his chair. “I don’t like that look in your eyes…” he said warily. “Why are all the mares in my life so interested in my love life?”

Twilight shrugged. “Your friends are interested because they’re girls, and playing matchmaker is one of those things that got encoded into their brains at a very young age,” she explained. “Fillies are always trying to pair up their dolls with one another, and when they grow up into mares they do the same with their unattached friends. You’re their dolly, Shining Armor.”

He frowned. “You never played with dolls,” he pointed out. “Except Smarty Pants, but I don’t remember you ever pairing her up with another doll.”

“Optio Smarty Pants didn’t have a heart for romance, her only mistress was the battlefield,” Twilight said, tapping her hoof on the table insistently, making sure to emphasize the doll's rank, because damnit, she earned that promotion. She stacked their empty bowls and set them in the center of the table. “And I’m interested in your love life because I love you and I want you to be happy… also because Cadance is constantly bugging me to get more details. Every time I get a letter from you she’s in my ear, ‘Is he dating anypony? Is he now? How about now? Why isn’t he seeing somepony?’ Sometimes I think she cares more about your sex life than ours.”

Shining Armor’s face bunched up all sour-like, clearly discomforted by the phrasing Twilight had just used. She suppressed a chuckle at the fact that the very notion of his little sister having sex made him so uncomfortable, but she supposed that she’d feel the same way if their ages were reversed. They were both adults, though, and neither of them commented on it beyond what was already said.

“Why is she so interested?” he asked.

“She still considers you a friend, Shining,” Twilight pointed out. “I know you two didn’t talk much, but you and Spike were still the only people in the castle around her age. Even if you weren’t all that close, she still likes you and wants you to be happy.”

Shining Armor looked away with a long, drawn-out sigh. He stared off in the busy street at nothing in particular, a pensive look clearly on his face.

“I was a very poor friend to her…” he softly said after a few moments of reflection. “Spike and I actually talked about it after you told us you were seeing one another. Cadance reached out to me when we were younger, and I ignored it. I was too busy for unimportant things like friends.” He turned back to Twilight, a wistful smile playing across his lips. “Sometimes I wonder what it would’ve been like if I’d accepted her friendship back then.”

Nearly a year ago, Twilight had heard something similar from Cadance. Before all the craziness, before the mad gods and nightmare beasts, before she even knew her first taste of love, Twilight was a nervous rookie stepping onto the deck of an old, beat-up airship to meet the princess she’d been assigned to guard.

It had been quite the surprise to learn that they already shared a pseudo-connection through Shining Armor. Cadance, the lonely adopted niece of Princess Celestia, had tried to befriend her aunt’s equally lonely protégé. Cadance had even confessed to having a youthful crush on Shining, and had attempted to get his attention, romantically, with little success.

Shining Armor wasn’t alone in wondering how things might have gone differently. Sometimes Twilight wondered what it might have been like if her brother hadn’t been so focused on his studies, so densely immune to the charms of the finest filly in Canterlot.

Would they have dated? Would Cadance have come to visit their family during the holidays? Would the mare that Twilight loved with all her heart have considered her nothing more than a younger sister?

It made Twilight’s stomach hurt to think about it, but thankfully things hadn’t fallen that way. It was all ‘maybes’ and ‘what-ifs’, paths and possibilities they had long ago passed. It was pointless to dwell on such things. Twilight believed in the power of choice, and their choices had led them all to where they stood today, and that was the only thing that mattered.

“You’re not the stallion you were, Shiny,” Twilight said. “It’s never too late to be a better friend. And it’s not like you won’t be seeing a lot of her over holidays and stuff, since she’s with me.” Twilight raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, giving him a playful glare. “Just as long as you do remember that she’s with me and you keep your hooves to yourself.”

“No worries about that,” Shining Armor replied, grinning and holding up his hooves defensively. “Even if she wasn’t already taken, I think she might be a tad out of my league.”

“Hey, she’s out of my league, too, but I still managed to trick her into falling for me,” Twilight said wryly. “Now tell me about this Cheerilee girl.”


* * *


Twilight tilted and turned her head, trying to peek beneath the scrap of cloth wrapped around her eyes. The blindfold was doing its job, but Cadance had tied it a little bit too tightly and the kerchief was pulled against her eyelids with noticeable pressure.

“Can you see?” Cadance asked as she worried the blindfold more securely into place with little tugs of her magic.

“No,” Twilight answered, “but it’s a little tight.”

Twilight felt the familiar tingle of Cadance's magic working at the knot behind her head.

“Better?” Cadance asked.

“Much,” Twilight said. She repeated a few more turns of her head, testing for any gaps in the blindfold, as per Cadance’s request, and nodded. “All set, even though I think a blindfold is kind of unnecessary, seeing as I already know there’s a party waiting for me at the end of this hallway.”

“Don’t be a party pooper at your own party.”

Twilight caught the scent of perfume just before she felt the soft hairs of Cadance’s tail tickling her nose. The sensation passed, then came again, repeating as Cadance swished her tail playfully against Twilight’s face.

“Cadance, we’re in public,” Twilight said with a blush.

“We’re alone in a hallway in our house, and it’s a special day,” Cadance countered. “Shush up and grab my tail so you don’t walk into a wall.”

Twilight did was she was told and bit down on the hairs of Cadance’s tail as it swished by. Cadance made a small, pleased noise that Twilight knew had been designed to make her blush. Twilight let Cadance lead her down the hallway. She strained her ears, filtering out the sound of hers and Cadance’s steps and picking up the slight, excited mumble of voices in the distance shushing one another and laughing.

“Okay, here we are,” Cadance said as she stopped.

Twilight let go of her girlfriend’s tail and took a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever Cadance had planned. Cadance took a few steps back and put her body against Twilight’s, guiding her the last few steps through the doorway and into the ballroom. A new round of suppressed chuckles and shushing began as soon as Twilight was over the threshold.

The knot behind her head came loose and the blindfold was yanked away. The sudden flood of light hit her darkness-adjusted vision painfully, and she blinked as dozens of colors and blurred shapes shifted amongst the stars in her eyes.

“Surprise! Happy birthday!” shouted the blurred assembly of ponies. Their voices mixed together into a single, disharmonized chorus of sound, but she was able to pick out the most familiar voices.

Her vision finally came into focus and she found herself looking into a crowd of smiling faces. A banner was hung up at the back of the ballroom, taking up half the wall to wish her a happy birthday.

Twilight’s parents rushed out of the mob and hugged her enthusiastically. There were tears in her mother’s eyes, and Twilight and her father shared a whispered joke about how emotional she was being.

Shining, Spike, and Rarity were next to hurry forward for a hug and to give their personal birthday greetings. Then their friends came to do the same.

Glowstone was there, wearing a pointed paper party hat that was taller than Celestia’s horn and had Twilight’s Cutie Mark on it. He didn’t hug her, but he did blow a party favor rudely in her face, and that was just as nice.

Some of her fellow guards came up as a group. They were mostly Decurions like herself, and they all expressed the collective well-wishes of their subordinates.

Princess Celestia and Luna were standing at the rear of the party, near the table where a monstrously huge cake was surrounded by boxes wrapped in brightly colored paper and big decorative bows. They didn’t come over in person, but they toasted her with a couple of disposable plastic party cups as she met their eyes.

Luna tilted her head towards the cake, and Twilight followed the motion just as Lollipop came up from under the table, wrestling a pastry bag as big as a foal as she added a finishing touch to the baked leviathan of sugar and frosting. Lollipop finalized her adjustment and set down the bag of frosting, waving enthusiastically at Twilight, a wide, happy grin on her face. She reared up and held out her hooves like a showpony displaying something impressive.

The mystery of the business Lollipop had left that morning to attend to had been solved, and Twilight was ecstatic to see her friend back in the castle. Back in the castle and baking, no less. Pinkie Pie enjoyed a reputation as a pretty stellar baker, but nopony could hold a candle against Lollipop when she cut loose in the kitchen. If the furtive glances Princess Celestia was tossing at the cake were any indication, Twilight wasn’t the only one who’d missed Lollipop’s presence in the castle kitchens.

Cadance had invited the ponies who’d been abducted a few months prior to the party, but only around half of them had made it. Most had simply moved out of Canterlot, but Cadance pointed to a stack of envelopes that had birthday cards from all the ponies that couldn’t be there.

The partygoers had lined up politely to wait their turns and filtered back into the party once they’d given their greetings. It took around a half hour for everypony who wanted to talk to Twilight to make it to her – not counting the ten minutes or so that Pinkie Pie's birthday song had taken up – and Twilight already felt exhausted from all the attention.

Twilight let out a heavy breath as she thanked the last of her guests and told them to go enjoy the party.

“Like the party?” Cadance asked, speaking low enough that their conversation was private.

“How did you get so many ponies to show up?” Twilight asked, overwhelmed and a little surprised by how many guests had shown up. “I wasn’t expecting a crowd this big.”

“You’ve touched more hearts than you know, Twilight,” Cadance said, her voice swelling with pride.

Twilight let that though sink in as she glanced around the room at the ponies that had gathered to celebrate her birth.

Glowstone was standing in the corner where a game of ‘pin the tail on the pony’ had been set up. He was helping the children put their blindfolds on and shouting hints as the foals took turns. His surprising affinity for children was drawing more interested looks from the single mares around him than his flirting had ever gotten, but he was so engrossed in the game that he hadn’t even noticed.

Lollipop was sitting in front of the table with the cake, jealously guarding her creation. Pepper Millie was at her side and the pair of them were talking animatedly with an excited Pinkie Pie, no doubt swapping recipes with the bubbly little baker.

Luna was sitting at a table, talking with her mother and Rarity while her father discussed something with Princess Celestia. Her father said something that made Princess Celestia chuckle into her hoof, and earned a warning glare and a look of disbelief from Twilight Velvet and Rarity respectively.

Shining Armor had found a quiet corner and surrounded himself with reams of paper and unrolled scrolls. A teenaged unicorn mare sat next to him, pointing at the pages as they talked. The girl snorted moistly and pushed a pair of thickly-rimmed glasses up her nose. Twilight blinked as she recognized the girl. It was one of the abduction victims, Star Wink. She was a pen-and-paper game enthusiast that had used her skills as a dungeon-maker to lead the evacuation out of the mines below Canterlot. Apparently she’d found a kindred spirit in Shining Armor, and the two of them had secluded themselves to discuss nerdy things. Twilight had heard that those games involved a fair amount of strategy and she made a mental note to stop over in their corner a little later to check it out.

Everywhere Twilight looked, friends and acquaintances mingled, laughing, playing, and eating. Rainbow Dash and Spike had parked themselves in front of a jukebox rigged up to a pair of speakers. They looked like they were arguing about what to play next as the ponies behind them danced.

“This is a great party,” Twilight said with a smile. “It would have been nice if Spitfire could have made it, though.”

“I sent an invitation to her office,” Cadance said, frowning delicately. “She sent back an RSVP so I assumed she’d be here.”

“It’s still early, I guess,” Twilight said. Spitfire probably wouldn’t show up, and Twilight wasn’t sure what she’d say if she did. But angry as she was about the way Spitfire had been blowing her off, she still sort of wanted to see her friend.

“Forget about that, just think about the announcement we’re going to be making tonight,” Cadance whispered excitedly. “I’ve got it all planned out. We’ll let the party go on for another half hour or so, then we’ll gather everypony to do the cake. Once we have their attention I’ll give a little speech, talk about how much I love you, blah, blah, blah, and so forth. That's when you cut the cake.”

Twilight nodded. “Alright, what happens when I cut the cake? How’s that supposed to tell everypony about our… you know.”

Cadance’s grin grew three sizes. “I’ve secretly cast a spell on it!” she explained with a giddy little hop. “As soon as a piece is taken out of it, the spell circuit is broken and it’ll change the message on the big banner!”

“Really? That’s actually pretty neat,” Twilight said in appreciation of her girlfriend’s spellcraft. Cadance may sometimes get a little down on herself about her magical aptitude, but she had a real flair for oddly complex spellwork with random effects. “Here’s a question, though. What happens if somepony cuts the cake before we get a chance to?”

Cadance pursed her lips and blew a dismissive raspberry. “As if somepony would be so gauche as to cut the cake at somepony else’s party.”

“Girls, no!”

Every pair of eyes in the room turned in the direction of the shout. Lollipop was hovering in the air, staring in disbelief at the three fillies from Ponyville, who had climbed onto the table while the chefs guarding it were busy distracting one another. Fluttershy had pulled Scootaloo away from the cake, and the little filly had one of those big spatula-like knives used for cutting and serving pie between her teeth. A slice of cake slid off the end of the pie knife and hit the table with a splat. The other two Cutie Mark Crusaders had set down the plates they’d been holding and were trying to slink off. Apple Bloom was inching her way towards the edge of the table, while Sweetie Belle slowly backed away in an attempt to blend in with the stack of presents.

Scootaloo spit out the knife and grinned sheepishly. “In my defense,” she began, “I didn’t think anypony would notice a few small pieces missing from a cake this big.”

A second later there was a loud pop, like a party favor going off. Confetti and streamers rained down from the ceiling out of thin air. The banner that had read “Happy Birthday, Twilight Sparkle!” unfolded with a flopping sound like a flag caught in a breeze. The banner flashed and sparkled with dramatically huge, magically glowing letters that twinkled like neon lights filled with star-stuff. The brightly colored marquee now read: “Guess Who’s Getting Married… Too Slow, It’s Us!!!”

Everyone in the room turned to Twilight and Cadance, who were still standing next to the entryway. Twilight turned her head as she heard the sound of something heavy falling to the ground.

Cadance had fainted.

Twilight looked up, her ears burning as the assembly gawked at her in shocked silence. The only thing that could be heard was some stupid pop song about dancing while brushing your teeth.

Considering the situation she was in, Twilight knew there was only one thing she could do.

She reared up on her hind legs, held out her arms, and shouted, “Surprise!”


* * *


Twilight stepped out of an open doorway and onto the veranda just outside the ballroom. Crickets chirped furiously, their calls battling with the sound of Equestria’s pop hits belting out of the speakers inside. The trellised roof of the veranda was covered in some variety of climbing roses, filling the air with a sweet, soothing odor. Twilight trudged over to one of the support beams holding up the roof and leaned against it heavily.

Things had gotten a little crazy once the surprise had been spoiled. Cadance had recovered from her shock in short order, and thankfully so. The rush of ponies jockeying for a chance to offer their congratulations and ask questions had been pretty overwhelming. Twilight wasn’t one to enjoy being the center of attention, and she wasn't sure what she would have done if Cadance hadn’t been there to deflect some of the attention.

How long had they been engaged? How did it happen? Who asked who? Had they set a date? Where were they registered? Who was going to make the wedding dress?

The question of who would make the dress had answered itself, at least. Upon hearing the question, Rarity had leapt onto a table and stomped her hoof, openly declaring that she would fight a duel in the street with any designer that tried to take the honor from her. She would have looked rather silly making a declaration like that if it hadn't been for the cheers that had gone up from Cadance, Twilight's mother, and Luna.

Thinking of her mother made Twilight’s sides throb. Twilight Velvet had knocked over at least ten other party guests to get at Twilight to wrap her in a bone-crushing hug. Twilight’s mom was a newspaper reporter, and not the sort of mare who did more than some light aerobics to keep her feminine figure, but her enthusiasm had more than made up for a lack in muscle-mass. Thankfully, Spike, Shining, and her dad had managed to pry Twilight free before she ended up in sick bay again.

The three fillies had also rushed to the front of the line of ponies wanting to offer their congratulations. They were practically in tears over having spoiled the surprise, but Cadance had just laughed and patted their heads. Cadance wasn’t the kind of girl that got angry at children, and Twilight knew she would forgive anything as long as it made for a funny story to tell later. She just gave the girls a short talking-to about the virtue of patience, and then asked that Lollipop start divvying up the cake, starting with three servings for the mischievous fillies.

It had taken seemingly forever to get through the line of ponies eager to talk to them. Once they were done greeting their guests for a second time, Cadance had given Twilight a wink and produced her book of wedding ideas, which had offered enough distraction that Twilight could slip away for a breath of fresh air.

A round of high-pitched squeals erupted from the ballroom, loud enough to silence the crickets for a few moments. Twilight shook her head, once again marveling at how little she understood mares, despite being one herself.

She looked up at the trellised roof, where thorny vines wove in and out through the grating. Twilight plucked one of the roses – a pale pink one, remarkably close to the color of Cadance’s coat – and ate it. It was no daisy sandwich, and technically nopony was supposed to eat the castle’s flowers, but she was hungry, and worn out, and nopony was watching.

“There’s food inside, you know.”

Twilight swallowed the half-chewed rosebud, coughing as one of the petals got stuck in her throat. She hacked up the obstruction and stood to greet the intruder. It might have taken her a moment or two to recognize him without his armor on, if she hadn’t heard his voice first.

“Centurion Steel Century, sir!” she said, standing at attention. “I didn’t expect you, sir!”

“None of that,” Steel Century said, batting at the air dismissively. “At ease. It’s your birthday, and besides,” he turned his head and leaned back to peer up at the banner that still announced her engagement at the front of the ballroom, “it looks like you won’t be my subordinate for much longer.”

Twilight let her posture relax a little, but she was still feeling a bit tense at the Centurion’s sudden appearance. She had been planning to tell him about the engagement in the morning, and she had been a little unprepared to see him at her party. He’d been invited, but Cadance had said he’d sent back his RSVP as ‘With Regrets’.

Steel Century walked over and took a seat next to Twilight, facing the garden. He gestured for her to do the same. He had a slight limp in his gait that Twilight had never noticed before, and Steel Century must have caught her looking.

“Old injury,” he said. He rubbed a hoof against his right side, grunting in pain as he ground his hoof into his hip muscles. “The armor helps. It’s got some fancy orthopedic adjustments – compression, support, heating charms, that sort of thing.”

“There’s a rumor going around down in the mess that you sleep in your armor, sir,” Twilight said.

The Centurion laughed. It was the deep, rumbling wheeze of a pony who’d long ago ruined his throat with a lifetime of shouting and harsh liquor.

“I’ve fallen asleep in it a time or two,” Steel Century confessed, his mouth pulled up into a surprisingly grandfatherly smile. “Sorry about crashing your party, by the by. I was on my way out of my office when the news got back to me about your betrothal. I just had to come by and pay my respects. I even brought you a bottle of Glenbooby Blue, straight from Aeryland. Best damned Aerish whiskey you can get.”

“Thank you, sir,” Twilight said, her voice still a little uneasy. She didn’t know much about whiskey – aside from that one time Luna had wrangled her into helping figure out the perfect recipe for an Aerish Coffee – but she knew Glenbooby Blue was supposed to be top shelf stuff.

“Credit where it’s due,” Steel Century said with a chuckle. “I’m sure you’ve heard from the princesses by now how the Guard got its start. The ambitions of your average enlisted might not be the same as they were back then, but nevertheless, congratulations on breaking the Guard’s thousand-year-long streak of failing to woo one of the princesses.”

“Thank you, sir,” Twilight said, feeling very much like a broken record. “Can I ask something, though? What do we do about… um…”

“Your discharge?” he asked. She nodded, so he continued. “Like I said, the Royal Guard was set up with every member hoping they’d one day get a princess to marry him. There’s procedure set up for this, but it’s old, so we might have to get a little creative. Stop by my office tomorrow and we’ll try to figure it out. Afternoon would be best – I need time to dig up those papyrus scrolls.”

Twilight blinked. “Papyrus? Really?”

“It’s some kind of old, brittle paper,” he said with a shrug. “Hay if I know what it is. Just don’t press down too hard when we fill it out and we’ll be fine.”

“That’s a load off my mind, at least,” Twilight said with a sigh. She rested her head against the support beam, letting it bear a little of her weight. “I’m going to miss it, though… being in uniform, I mean.”

“I know what you mean,” Steel Century said with a sigh of his own. “Going to be hard to hang up my armor, and not just because it helps with the limp.”

“You’ve still got a lot of years in you, though, sir,” Twilight said with a smile.

“Aye, and I’d like to spend them at home, with a grandfoal sitting on my back,” Steel Century said plainly. “Just between you, me, and the roses, I’m retiring in a few weeks.”

Twilight sat up straight. “No way,” she breathed. “Who’s going to take over your post?”

“Probably Whippoorwill,” Steel Century said. “Princess Celestia is the one that chooses the Guard Captain’s replacement when the old one steps down, but she usually takes the old Captain’s suggestion, which is almost always his Optio.”

“Wow, you’ve been the Captain of the Guard for longer than I’ve been alive,” Twilight said reverently. “It’s kind of hard to imagine anypony else holding the job.”

“Truth be told, I had actually considered it a few years back,” Steel Century clarified. “We were coming up on the millennial anniversary of the Summer Sun Celebration, though, and I wanted to be around for that… you know how that went.”

“It’s been a busy year,” Twilight said succinctly.

“And it’s not likely to get any less busy,” Steel Century said with a nod. “Not with ponies like you running around. Whippoorwill’s got quite a job ahead of him.” He eyed Twilight critically, looking her up and down with the sort of scrutiny he reserved for morning inspection. “It’s tough luck for him that you’re taking a different kind of promotion. I’ve already talked with him about it and I’m fairly certain he was set on asking you to be his Optio.”

“I would have turned it down,” Twilight said automatically. “If I were Optio, that means I wouldn’t be able to guard Princess Cadance anymore. That would be unacceptable to me.”

Steel Century sat in silence for a bit, his lips pulled into a tight little line as he mulled something over. “I would say that was a load of shit if it came out of anypony else’s mouth, but you’ve got a record of turning down promotions that didn’t take you where you wanted to be, don’t you?”

Twilight wasn’t sure what to say to that. When she’d graduated from the military academy, she’d had enough honors and certifications that she had easily qualified for a meritorious promotion right out the gate. She’d turned it down, however, because taking the promotion would have meant she wouldn’t be able to request serving in Canterlot. At the time, Canterlot didn’t have need of more Decurions, it needed Legionaries.

“It always had to be Canterlot, sir,” Twilight said after some thought.

“It all worked out for you in the end, didn’t it?” Steel Century said with a chuckle. “For what it’s worth, you would have made a great XO for him.”

“In a few years, maybe,” Twilight said. “I’m still a little green for responsibility like that.”

“It takes more than experience to be a real leader, Decurion. When it’s all gone tits-up and the wolves are at the door, you need to be the kind of pony that everypony around you knows they can count on.” He raised a hoof and pounded hard at his chest. “You need the kind of presence that lets every living thing around you know that you’re made of steel, even if the whole world’s on fire. Whippoorwill’s taken a few years to grow into it, but I think he’s got what it takes now.”

Twilight got the feeling that Steel Century wasn’t just talking about what it took to be Captain of the Guard. He knew what sort of position Twilight was marrying into, and as he looked down at her through tired, sympathetic eyes, she knew that he also understood what it was like to suddenly find yourself with more responsibility than you knew what to do with.

“You think I’ve got that in me?” she asked, maybe a little more desperately than she’d intended.

Steel Century stood, grunting in that way that old stallions did when they rose from a sitting position. “I think that a strong enough back will eventually find the weight of the world resting on it,” he said. “I'm also starting to think that you’re the kind of pony that was born to hold that kind of weight, even if you don’t see it in yourself... Enjoy the whiskey and happy birthday… Your Highness.”

Twilight blanched at the title, but the Centurion’s chuckle as he walked away told her that he was just yanking her chain. His laughter and hoofsteps stopped abruptly, and Twilight turned to see what had halted him.

Spitfire stood in the doorway leading back to the ballroom. She looked a little windswept, like she’d been flying all day, and she had a pair of saddlebags on her back.

“Centurion,” Spitfire said, nodding to the old stallion.

“Captain Spitfire,” he replied in an uncharacteristically small voice. “You’re looking well.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“I’ve been trying to get you to meet with me,” he said guardedly.

“I know,” she replied. “You didn’t make it an official request, though, so I just assumed I was free to decline, sir.”

Twilight watched as they stared at each other in tense silence. Something had happened between them, and whatever it was, it had shaken the Centurion.

Steel Century lowered his head and stepped around Spitfire, limping away hurriedly.

Spitfire sighed. “Wait,” she said.

Steel Century stopped. He didn’t turn to face her, but from the way his ears twitched and swiveled, he was listening.

“It’s okay,” Spitfire said. “I don’t blame you.”

The tension in Steel Century’s shoulders bled away, and even without seeing his face Twilight got the sense that he’d just been relieved of some great burden. He grunted softly, nodding his head almost imperceptibly, and limped away at a more relaxed pace.

“That was odd…” Twilight said aloud as she watched the exchange.

Spitfire turned back to Twilight, flashing her a pearly-white grin like nothing was amiss. “You and the princess?” she asked. “Congratulations.”

Twilight’s confusion and surprise faded to the background as anger stewed and boiled in her belly. Spitfire was going to just pretend like she hadn’t been giving her the cold-shoulder for months? Twilight wanted to ask her where she got off acting like that, but she knew that wouldn’t get her anywhere except into another brawl – though that was also pretty tempting at this point. She swallowed down her anger for the moment, letting it simmer just in case she ended up yelling at Spitfire after all.

“Thanks,” she said curtly.

“When’d it happen?”

“Week before Hearth’s Warming,” Twilight explained. From her experience inside the ballroom, she knew what question would be next before it was even asked. “I asked her.”

“Oh, yeah? You do a ring and orchestra, family gathered around, the whole nine?”

Twilight shook her head. “It was more spontaneous than that.”

Spitfire let out a clipped bark of laughter. “Hah! That’s a surprise. You're not the spontaneous type.”

“That’s what everyone’s been saying,” Twilight said with a frown. “I am the type to follow my gut, though, and my gut told me it was the right time to ask.”

“You do have good instincts,” Spitfire said in agreement.

Twilight sighed. She’d had enough pussyfooting around the issue. “Spitfire, what’s the deal?” she asked. “Why have you been ignoring me?”

Spitfire took a deep breath and closed the distance between them. She pulled off her bags and set them on the ground before taking a seat in front of Twilight, an arm’s length away.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Spitfire began. “I’ve had a lot of shit on my mind and I haven’t been up to talking to anypony about it… doesn’t mean I was going to miss your birthday, though.”

“I’ll take it you’re ready to talk about it now.” Twilight lifted her chin in the direction that Steel Century had gone. “It have anything to do with whatever was going on between you and the Centurion?”

“He was friends with my dad,” Spitfire said solemnly. “They went way back, and he was the one that recommended my dad as the private contractor to ferry you and your princess to Saddle Arabia. Apparently he used to throw my dad a lot of work like that.”

“How’d you find that out? Did he tell you?”

“It was in the file,” Spitfire said.

Twilight blinked. She didn’t bother asking what file Spitfire was talking about – it could only be one file. She looked around to see if anypony else was waiting in the wings to walk in on them, and decided to cast a spell to assure their privacy.

She gathered her magic in her horn and focused it on a point on the ground between her and Spitfire. Her magic formed a sphere about the size of a small marble and expanded as she steadily poured more power into the spell. It grew until it surrounded them both, slowly faded into a quavering heat-haze, and then disappeared as she finalized the spell.

“You finally got to read my report?” Twilight asked.

Spitfire nodded. “I’m sorry I was such a jerk to you,” she said apologetically, her voice thick with shame. “That was… a hay of a thing to have been keeping to yourself.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Twilight began to say, “but I’m sorry you saw that. I would have been happier if you’d never known how your dad met his end. I’m not sure why he let you read it, but I’m sure the Centurion didn’t reach that decision easily.”

“He said about as much before he would even let me open the folder,” Spitfire explained.

Twilight was suddenly extremely aware of the weight of Spitfire’s presence. Feelings of shame and regret began welling up inside Twilight, as fresh and real as they had been all those months ago. Twilight had spoken to Sky Chaser in the dream world not long after his death, and she knew for a fact that her friend didn’t blame her for it... but it wasn't his judgment she was facing now.

“I’m sorry,” Twilight said, shame burning her throat. “I was supposed to protect him…”

“Don’t do that,” Spitfire said, her tone brooking no room for argument. “We’ve been over this. I don’t blame you, and knowing what happened doesn’t change that. If anything I’m impressed you came home at all.”

“Thanks,” Twilight said, happy to hear the words again but not really feeling them in her heart just yet.

“I mean that,” Spitfire insisted. “I don’t blame any of you. There was no way you could have known what was going to happen…” Spitfire leaned forward with a hard, angry look in her eyes. “But that doesn’t mean there isn’t blame to be had. Tell me about this thing you chased after down in the mines.”

“I don’t know much, admittedly. Right now I know that it’s fast, it’s hungry, and it’s smart. But if it has ties to Anubis, my friend Basenji would know more, I’m sure of it. Sadly, he’s been about as communicative as you have these past few months. None of my letters have gotten a response.”

“That's the diamond dog you fished out of the sand in the desert?” Spitfire asked.

Twilight nodded. “He’s a drummer – a tale-keeper for his people,” she explained. “If anyone has answers, it’s him.”

“Steel Century said you think the thing from the mines is connected to what that happened in Zebrica,” Spitfire said. “I’m going to ask this plainly: if it weren’t for this monster, would my dad still be alive?”

Twilight had gone over the facts at least a thousand times in her head, establishing a timeline and poking at the events for clues, trying to see where things might be leading. Despite all the variables, there were a few things that Twilight knew for certain. She knew that Sky Chaser was dead because of Anubis’ curse, and Anubis had only unleashed his curse because he’d gone mad after being summoned and bound to a realm that he did not belong in. She also knew that she had asked the creature down in the mines if it had orchestrated the event that had led to Anubis’ binding, and the thing had all but confessed to it.

“Barring any other misfortune…” Twilight said. “Yeah, I’d say that’s a pretty good bet.”

Spitfire nodded slowly, steadily picking up steam as she went. “Yeah… yeah okay then…” She opened the satchel next to her and pulled out a present. It was just about the size of a small jewelry box, wrapped in paper bearing little Wonderbolts insignias and a poorly tied lavender bow. Spitfire placed the present on the ground between them and slid it towards Twilight. “You and I got one more bit of business, then. This is your birthday present… slash-engagement gift, I suppose.”

“Spitfire, you didn’t have to do this,” Twilight said, genuinely touched by the gesture. She reached for the gift but stopped when Spitfire put her hoof atop the box possessively.

“I did, actually,” Spitfire explained, keeping her hoof on the present like she was guarding it from thieves. “This present comes with strings attached. Consider it a bribe if that helps.”

Twilight frowned, eyeing the box suspiciously. “What are the strings?”

Spitfire’s wings flared at her side as she fixed Twilight with hard, challenging glare. “The strings are that I’m in. I know the whole thing, so there’s no reason to keep me out of this. I want in, front lines. No sidelines, no waiting back at camp, none of that. I want you to swear on everything you hold dear that you’re going to keep me in the loop, and that when you go after this filthy bastard I’m right there with you. I want to be the one that holds it down while you cut off its head.”

It was a heavy thing that Spitfire was asking of Twilight, and they both knew it. Spitfire was an officer. She knew what it was like to feel responsible for the lives that she led into a fight. No amount of assurance that it was her choice, or that she knew the risks, would make it any easier on Twilight if Spitfire got hurt, or worse, while helping Twilight in her fight. Spitfire was essentially asking Twilight to take the burden of her life onto her conscience, and that wasn’t something to accept lightly.

Twilight narrowed her eyes, studying the fierce, slightly untethered look in Spitfire’s gaze. In that look she could almost see what Spitfire had been doing these last few months. She could see Spitfire’s pain, the sleepless nights, the sorrow, and the anger at having had the opportunity to know her father stolen from her. Beyond even that, she could almost see a piece of her friend’s very heart.

Spitfire had resolved, with all of her heart and body, to make this her fight. Twilight decided that she couldn’t deny that sort of determination – not in a fellow soldier, and definitely not in a friend.

Twilight reached out her hoof and set it atop the box, right next to Spitfire’s. “You’re probably going to regret this at some point.”

Spitfire’s hoof lingered a moment longer before she hesitantly pulled it back. “I’ll regret it more if I do nothing,” she said. “Thank you.”

“I’m always glad to have you watch my back,” Twilight said, pulling the present close and holding it against her chest. “Just, please, keep a cool head.”

“As a cucumber,” Spitfire said as she stood and placed the empty bags on her back. She started walking away, and the privacy charm around them shattered into tiny, sparkling shards of magic as she crossed the threshold.

“Where are you going?” Twilight asked.

“Wonderbolts reserve training camp starts up in a few weeks,” Spitfire said as she spread her wings experimentally and fiddled with the way the saddlebags sat on her back. “We’re starting late this year, but I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, so I need to make arrangements for somepony to run the show in my absence. Soarin can command the team just fine, but he’s terrible with the paperwork. I need to find somepony to do that for him.”

“Okay,” Twilight said, annoyance creeping into her voice, “again, where are you going that you can’t run the camp yourself?”

“Zebrica,” Spitfire replied, as though it were completely obvious. “You said we need this Basenji guy, right? Write another letter and I’ll deliver it to him myself. I’ll fly over there and put it right in his paw. I’ll get a response even if I have to drag him back to Equestria kicking and screaming.”

“You’re going to fly all the way to Zebrica?”

“Flying’s about the only thing I’m really great at,” Spitfire explained. “This is something I can do to help, and it needs doing. That’s all there is to it. Congratulations again, Twi. Get that letter written. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Twilight watched as Spitfire took to the air and flew off into the night sky. She looked down at the gift she now held against her chest. The strings that Spitfire had attached to the gift had been thick, and Twilight couldn’t help but wonder what Spitfire thought was a good enough gift to warrant the sort of promise she’d asked Twilight to make.

Twilight undid the bow – which was more of a knot than a bow – and unwrapped the gift, disposing of the paper with a flash of fire magic. It took her a moment to recognize the wooden box in her hooves, but when she did she almost dropped it in shock.

The last time she’d seen this box had been the day that she and Spitfire had become friends. The dark-stained wood had been covered in black, greasy scorch marks, and the latch and hinges had melted from the flames of the wreckage it had been recovered from.

Now, the scorch marks had been carefully buffed and polished away, and the melted fasteners had been replaced with shiny new brass ones. Twilight opened the box, and the scent of orange-flavored tobacco filled her senses. Sky Chaser’s pipe sat in the box, tightly nestled between a carton of matches and a drawstring pouch of tobacco.

Spitfire had undersold the value of what she’d given to Twilight. This pipe was all that was left of Spitfire’s inheritance – the only link she still had to her father.

This wasn’t just a bribe, this was an offering. It was a symbol of what it meant to Spitfire to be a part of the search for the thing that had indirectly orchestrated her father’s murder.

“Oh, Spitfire,” Twilight muttered as tears began welling up in her eyes. “How could I have said no to this?”


* * *