Twilight fastened the last button on her dress blues and frowned at the tightness across her chest. It was the same formal uniform she’d been issued at graduation just a year ago, but the amount of muscle she’d put on since that time made the formal uniform jacket feel woefully uncomfortable. She’d allowed Rarity to tailor the uniform, but something must have gone wrong, or maybe she’d used the wrong measurements.
She turned to look at herself in the full-length mirror and tilted her head as she studied the gilded buttons on her dark blue jacket. They didn’t seem to be strained. She’d seen officers in ill-fitting uniforms before, and crooked buttons were a sure sign of too much body in too little coat. She sat on the ground and tugged at the red cuffs of her sleeves with her magic, checking to see if they were the proper length, and adjusting the starched red collar. Damn collar felt like a python coiled around her throat.
“Do I look bloated to you guys?” Twilight asked. “My uniform looks fine, but it feels really tight.”
“It’s probably nerves,” Spitfire said. “I got all tight-chested the day I made Captain.”
Twilight turned and glared at Spitfire, who was sitting on a stool and leaning back against the wall with her arms folded behind her head. She had her back hooves kicked up onto a second stool, and poor Basenji – in his smart black jacket and red necktie – was sitting on the floor next to her, obviously too polite to ask her to move.
It was hard to think that only a couple of weeks ago, Spitfire had broken her back. After everything had calmed down, Twilight and a team of medics had given Spitfire a once-over from stem to stern. The tests had turned up nothing anomalous aside from her new magical abilities, but Twilight and the physicians had all agreed that she needed to continue regular check ups, just in case something popped up later.
Looking at her, the only outward change in her appearance had been in her eyes. Her irises now glowed with a fiery light, and little flickering cinders danced in her sclera. It was so noticeable that Spitfire had taken to wearing her sunglasses at all times, even while indoors, so as not to spook anyone who met eyes with her in passing.
“What would I have to be nervous about?” Twilight asked tersely. She let her glare linger just long enough to make her point, and turned back to continue fidgeting with her uniform. “I’m marrying the girl of my dreams… and don’t slouch, you’re going to wrinkle your uniform.”
Spitfire snorted dismissively but sat up, smoothing the wrinkles out of her clothes. The medals dangling from her chest – several of them new – jingled metallically with the motion.
“It is natural to be nervous on the day of your nuptials,” Basenji said. “This day marks a great milestone in the lives of yourself and friend Cadance. It is the day where your paths cease to run parallel to one another, and merge into a single road that you shall both traverse.”
“Aw, that’s sweet, Bas,” Spitfire said with an uncharacteristically girlish exhalation. “I’m going to steal it for my part of the wedding toast.”
Basenji opened his mouth to say something, but seemed to reconsider whatever he was about to say. Instead, he just reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small notepad and a pencil. He flipped a few pages and hastily scribbled a few lines out of the speech Twilight had seen him writing over the last few days.
“As you say,” he muttered as he looked over his speech and made a few more changes, nibbling the pencil as he silently read to himself.
Twilight sighed as she gave up on fussing over her appearance. She looked good, real good. She tilted her head to one side, taking an appraising look at herself from another angle, then tilted the other way. She looked perfect. Absolutely, completely, picture-perfect and fabulously flawless.
She growled and undid some of her medals – like Spitfire, she had several new ones – and repinned them.
“Maybe I am a little nervous,” Twilight said, conceding the point. “I’ve been trying to downplay it, though. Cadance has been going nuts over this wedding. She wants everything to be perfect for our ponies. She thinks that this is just the celebration they need after the mess that the Crystal Fair ended up as.”
Spitfire chuckled. “I was thinking that this ceremony was just a formality, but I think I like that better. These crystal ponies seem the type to look for any excuse to party.”
Twilight stopped messing with her medals and lifted the mirror with her magic, turning it against the wall so she wouldn’t be tempted to look at it again. There was a table in the corner of her dressing room where the maids had left things they thought she might need – luckily that included a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket of ice. She filled a glass nearly to the top, tilted her head back, and emptied it in a single throaty gulp.
“What do you mean a formality?” Twilight asked as she poured another glass.
“Well, the crystal ponies already consider you one of their rulers,” Spitfire said. “You and Cadance publically professed your love for one another, and that love made some kind of magical love-miracle happen. Far as they’re concerned you’re already her missus.”
Twilight sipped her champagne. Spitfire was right about the ponies of the Empire readily accepting her. A good portion of their citizens had stuck around to watch the fight from a distance, and Twilight had pretty definitively won their hearts.
“I do kind of like the sobriquet they’ve given me,” Twilight said with a grin. “It’s…”
“Rad?” Spitfire suggested.
Twilight chuckled. “Yeah, it’s rad.”
“The Empress of Steel is a rather lofty title,” Basenji commented as he closed his notepad and slipped it back into his coat. “Speaking as one who writes songs, it is a very… evocative name.”
“I think so, too,” Twilight said with a nod. She pulled two more glasses off the table and poured drinks for them, which they accepted with thanks.
They sat for a while in silence, sharing a drink as the sounds of festive ponies drifted in through the window. The crystal ponies had thrown their all into the celebration. She may not have had Cadance’s mystical connection to the city, but as Twilight listened to the sounds of merriment and unrestrained laughter, she could almost feel their happiness in her own heart.
It was a stark contrast to the screams of terror that had filled the air only two weeks prior. Sombra’s curse, the loss of the original Crystal Heart, Ammit’s attempt to turn the city into his own personal spawning grounds – the light at the end of the tunnel of Sombra’s mistreatment had been the light of a fire, waiting to burn them all alive. It spoke a lot to the fortitude of the crystal ponies that they could still laugh like this, and it only reaffirmed Twilight’s desire to look after them.
Twilight turned from the window and glanced at her friends. They were both wearing complicated looks, and she could tell that they were thinking along similar lines. This had actually been the first time they’d all had time to themselves, just the three of them, since that whole incident had gone down. Between the planning for the wedding and looking into the needs of the ponies of the Empire, Twilight had been immensely busy.
Twilight levitated the bottle out of its ice bucket and refilled their glasses.
“We haven’t really talked about it,” Twilight said cautiously, “but I’ve been wanting to get your opinions on what Ammit said.”
“It can wait, my sister,” Basenji said. He traced the lip of his glass with one of his digit pads, and the look in his eyes was at odds with his words. “This is your wedding day. We need not darken it with such talk.”
“Are you not worried?” Twilight asked insistently. “Ammit was talking like he could see the future.”
Basenji sighed as he set his glass down on a nearby table. “If you will recall, I have said before that the flow of time in the realm of the living is observed differently by those in the land of the dead. My people see this as oftentimes beneficial, as it is through this unique view of events in our world that the Old Dogs are able to provide due warning of future events.”
“But Ammit wasn’t in the other world,” Spitfire pointed out.
“As you say,” Basenji said, “however, Ammit was an old beast, and a great power in the land of the dead. It is within the realm of possibility that Ammit had methods by which he could access this unique view, even from our plane.”
“So then should we be worried about all that ominous shit he said, or not?” Spitfire asked.
“Perhaps, but perhaps not,” Basenji said. “It may be that Ammit was lying in an attempt to bargain for his newly-gained life.”
“You don’t really believe that, do you?” Twilight asked, quirking a single eyebrow.
Basenji reached for his glass and emptied half of it. “It would be rather too convenient, given our overall fortune regarding such matters…” He shook his head. “In either case, I would once again like to insist that it is a worry for another day. After all, it is said that a warrior can only protect that which his arms can reach, and a drummer can only sing as far as his voice will carry.”
“I suppose I can see the wisdom in that,” Twilight said reluctantly. As much as she would have rather continued the discussion, Basenji was right. They didn’t need to work it all out immediately. Just the fact that the question had finally been brought up with her friends was enough to lift a bit of the weight off her chest. “What’s another mystery thrown on the pile, right?”
There was a loud boom from outside, and a second later the entire city seemed to erupt in cheers and stomping hooves. “Huh, that’s weird,” Twilight said as she glanced out at the clear blue sky through the window. “Someone’s setting off fireworks in the middle of the day? Those aren’t supposed to go off until after dusk.”
Spitfire didn’t even seem to notice the sound.
“That mean you’re going to stick around?” Spitfire asked Basenji.
“Ah, indeed,” Basenji said, scratching at his temple. “I believe the Old Dogs would wish that I see these matters through until the end… Also, there are things in this land which interest me greatly.” He cast his eyes downward, staring into his drink as he swished it around. He quickly added, “In particular, the ancient library in this city holds many treasures! I will learn much from it.”
Twilight quirked the other eyebrow. “Well… I’m glad to hear it. Feel free to treat the Empire as your own home for as long as you like.” She looked to Spitfire. “Both of you. You’ll always have a room in this palace.”
“Thanks, Twi,” Spitfire said, lifting her glass in salute.
Spitfire was wearing an oddly sad smile as she sipped her drink, but before Twilight could question it, the door burst open and Cadance ran into the room.
Cadance had a wild, untethered look in her eyes. She pointed a hoof at Basenji and Spitfire. “You and you! Out! Now! Guard the door and don’t let anyone inside!” Basenji and Spitfire gawked at her, stunned into silence, and when neither of them immediately jumped to her commands she lit her horn and forcibly shoved them out the door. “No one comes in!”
Twilight blinked. She considered herself a mare of action, the kind that could assess a situation and adapt to any surprise that came her way at the drop of a pin. The sight of Cadance, in a wedding dress, barging into her dressing room and throwing their friends out into the hallway, was enough to throw that self-assessment out the window.
Cadance reeled in her five-meter-long train, gathering up the long piece of delicate silk cloth like she was scooping leaves. Once it was clear of the doorway she threw the bundle of cloth in the corner, slammed the door shut, and locked it.
“Cadance, what the hay is going on?” Twilight asked, finally snapping out of her stupor. She lamely added, “You’re not supposed to be here! It’s bad luck!”
Cadance grabbed Twilight’s face between her hooves, painfully smooshing up her cheeks. “Honey, I love you, but shut up and listen. I was going to try and surprise you but it’s all gone teats up, and I want you to hear it from me first.”
“Cadance…” Twilight whispered. She tried to pull away, to free herself from Cadance’s painful kung-fu iron grip, but couldn’t even budge her soon-to-be-wife. “Cadance… you’re hurting me.”
Cadance released her. “Okay, look, you know I’ve been studying the magic of the Empire, right?”
Twilight gently massaged the feeling back into her cheeks. “Yeah, and…?”
“Well I’m only just scratching the surface, but apparently the magic has a ton of really interesting effects on Equestria – magical effects.”
Twilight frowned. “That’s kind of self-evident, but okay.”
“Specifically, there’s a few really big, powerful magics at play that…” Cadance let out an exasperated groan. “There’s this really ancient magic – stuff that hasn’t been seen in over a thousand years – that can help two ponies express their love for one another, but only if they really, really love each other, and connect at a deeply spiritual level.”
“What?” Twilight asked, still a bit confused by what was going on. “Like bedroom stuff?”
“Yes!” Cadance shook her head. “I mean no! No, but yes!” She threw her head back, baring her teeth at the ceiling and growling in frustration. “Argh, this is all flippin’ screwed! I wanted to take more time to explain this before the big reveal!”
“Cadance, just spit it out already!”
“Twilight! I’m—”
The door burst open as someone bucked it hard enough to break the hinges. Twilight’s mom stood in the doorway, a look of rapturous, unsullied joy on her face.
“You’re pregnant!?”
* * *
Cadance had wanted the entire city to be able to take part in the festivities, so while the actual ceremony would take place on the balcony overlooking the city, the reception would be held in the street. The square in the center of town had been turned into a carnival, and the courtyard beneath the castle had been set up as the spot for the reception where the VIPs would dance and dine.
Princess Celestia stood in that courtyard, her face covered in confetti and her mouth agape as she gawked at the banner hanging overhead. There was a shattered plate and a single piece of cake on the ground at her hooves.
The banner, which had previously only displayed adorably cartoonish doodles of Twilight and Cadance kissing while surrounded by hearts and roses, had changed a few seconds after she’d decided to sneak a little piece of cake. Now the caricatures of Twilight and Cadance were standing apart, their arms in the air as they appeared to be cheering. The Cadance doodle even had an adorable little potbelly.
Between the cheering couple the sign now read: “We’re having a baby!”
How was she to know that Cadance would try the same trick twice?
Ponies all around her were cheering, and she was distantly aware of her little sister laughing uproariously, but the voices of three little fillies are what stuck out to her.
“Oooooooooo~” they sang. “You’re in trouble~”
* * *