Twilight sat stark still, lips pursed as she watched Celestia. Her mentor simply sat there absently, eyes vacant and heart almost unbeating. It was an unnerving thing to see, to be honest. Celestia had always been a paragon of organization and conscientiousness. Seeing her this distant didn’t do much to calm any of the uneasiness still residing in her gut from these past twenty-four hours.
“…Princess?” Twilight asked, hesitating. “Are you alright?”
Celestia’s attention jerked back down to Equestria. “Huh? Oh yes, my apologies, Twilight. You were saying?”
Twilight exhaled loudly from her nose. “I wasn’t saying anything. You were, then you sort of just, uh, stopped talking.”
Celestia’s eyes bulged momentarily, the faintest of blushes sweeping across her face. “I’m sorry, my dear Twilight. I… I suppose that I’ve just been having some peculiar dreams lately, and they’ve been keeping me awake. There’s no need to worry, though.”
Twilight cocked an eyebrow, but decided not to press her any further. Over the past few years, she had learned it was always best not to question Celestia.
“Anyway,” Celestia continued, “regarding Luna… I’d like you to help her with rehabilitation both physically and mentally, if you can. Just stay by her side and be there—I personally cannot be, but I trust you more than anyone else to make sure she is alright.”
“You know that I’m always happy to help, but…” Twilight paused, then continued, her voice an octave lower than before, “Well… you should probably be warned that she and I… aren’t exactly on speaking terms,” Twilight replied.
“How do you mean?” Celestia asked.
Twilight sighed, then took a long sip of her coffee. It was far too early for this conversation to be happening, even if it was inevitable. “I… stole her immortality, Princess. She’s rightfully upset with me.”
Celestia waved her hoof dismissively. “Water under the bridge, my dear Twilight. In time her animosity will pass. Soon enough she’ll realize that it wasn’t you but the elements that did the damage. There simply wasn’t another option available. You know that.”
“But what about right now?” Twilight asked, still noticeably uncomfortable; Celestia’s response had been more dismissive than reassuring. “I highly doubt she’ll want me to be anywhere near her, let alone by her side until she’s recovered completely.”
“She’ll get used to you soon enough,” Celestia stated plainly. Her words had an air of finality about them. The signal was clear. This discussion was over.
Twilight pursed her lips, head hung low—resigned to her fate.
“So,” Twilight asked softly, “what do I do now?”
“She’s probably still sleeping. Go to her hospital room and ask what you can do to help. That would probably be the best place for you to start.”
“Alright, I suppose,” Twilight replied. After glancing down at the cold, half-eaten pastry on her plate, she clenched her jaw and excused herself from the table, leaving Celestia to her own devices for the time being. As soon as she stood up, the servants swooped in and took all the dirty silverware sitting at the table. She paid them no heed, and instead wandered toward the doorway and out into the hallways of the enormous castle.
She made sure that each of her steps were small and deliberate. The longer it took for her to reach the hospital, the less time she would be stuck there.
Once she was out of earshot, Twilight heaved a long, heavy sigh. That discussion probably couldn’t have gone worse. Not only was she stuck babysitting Luna, but Celestia had seemed a tad upset with her. She’d had also seemed rather distant these past few days—just another oddity to add to the ever growing list. Twilight bit her lip, shaking her head. She would give just about anything for a chance to re-do everything she’d done wrong recently.
Eventually, unfortunately, Twilight reached the door to the castle foregrounds, across which resided the hospital Luna currently slept in. Twilight stopped for a moment, contemplating turning around and hiding in her room, but decided the better of it. She’d much rather face Luna’s wrath than Celestia’s.
So, following a deep breath, she plodded forth into the open air, marching straight toward hell.
The dew-covered grass was cold on her hooves as she dragged them along. It felt strangely refreshing. Having been locked up inside for the majority of the previous week, everything—the fresh air, the birds chirping, the soft rustle of wind blowing through the autumn leaves barely clinging to trees—really struck her. They were all things she needed more of in her life.
Inevitably, she reached the entryway to the hospital and pushed open the door. The secretary sitting at the front desk looked up and shot her a smile.
“Third floor, second door on the left,” he said, smiling.
She smiled back, nodding. The interaction was really a formality at this point. She’d been here so many times that it was practically muscle memory, and the secretary knew that just as well as she did.
Her legs carried her to the stairwell, and she slowly plodded onwards and upwards. As she walked, the sterile aroma pervaded her sense of smell. It was as though the place was almost too clean.
…She swore that she hated hospitals more and more with each and every passing day.
Soon enough, she reached her destination. She paused in front of Luna’s door, trying to cool her nerves. It was very likely that Luna was still asleep, which was ideal, but the thought didn’t calm her racing heart at all.
Suddenly, the sound of hoof-falls could be heard echoing from behind her, growing louder and closer with each step. Twilight spun around on her hooves to locate the sound. It was one of the nurses from yesterday, a tray of food precariously balanced atop her back and a clipboard in her mouth.
The nurse smiled through the clipboard, plodding up to Twilight. She placed the clipboard on the ground and gracefully slid the tray off her back, landing next to the clipboard.
“Hiya!” she chirped, full of energy. She must’ve been the early morning type; Twilight was a tad jealous. “What can I help you with, Miss Sparkle?”
“Hello,” Twilight replied, trying and failing to mimic the nurse’s upbeat tone, “Celestia sent me to help with Luna. She wants me to be by her side throughout her recovery.”
The nurse’s smile faltered almost imperceptibly for a brief moment. “O-oh. And is she sure that she wants to send you? I mean no offense but it seemed as though she wasn’t thrilled to see you yesterday…”
Twilight pursed her lips. At least someone understood her point of view… “Believe me, I tried explaining it to her, but she was set on me coming here. If you want to try convincing her, though…”
“No, no—I’m sure that she knows what she’s doing. The princess has never been wrong, after all.”
That was a valid point, Twilight supposed. It didn’t fix her current predicament, though. “So, uh, is there anything I can do to help out? Preferably something where I’m not within strangling distance?”
The nurse let out a curt laugh at that. “Well, I was actually just about to bring in breakfast. You’re welcome to give it to her if you want; I have to go grab some more materials before I can examine her condition.”
Twilight nodded. “Sure. Might as well rip the bandage off instead of waiting to break the news to her.”
“Perfect!” the nurse said. “I’ll be back an a jiffy.”
Twilight watched quietly as the nurse turned around and trotted off down the hallway, practically bouncing. Once she was out of sight, Twilight tilted her gaze down to the tray of food before her. It looked decidedly… not food-like. It was Just glop with a consistency a little thinner than pudding, really, with an inviting gray color to it. It made enough sense why they were serving this to her—Twilight could imagine that Luna wasn’t quite yet at a place where she could chew solid foods—but it was still pretty disgusting.
Twilight shook her head and grabbed the tray with her magic, spinning around toward the half-closed door. Before she could give herself a chance to change her mind, she nuzzled the door open and plodded inside.
Luna was awake. Perhaps not mentally, but physically she was. She laid on her back with her eyes peeled open. Her gaze was fixed on the ceiling fan, watching it twirl endlessly around and around and around. Twilight couldn’t help but wonder just how long she’d been sitting there like that, lost in a world only she could see.
In the past twelve or so hours, her condition had noticeably improved. Though you could still see where it had been singed off, her fur was beginning to grow back. Her mane was too, though in a much softer, lighter sky-blue tone—however, her eyebrows had yet to start growing back. Her wings were by far the most remarkable thing about her recovery so far, though. A hoof-full of feathers were already beginning to regrow, which was normally a process that took much, much longer. Twilight was no doctor, but there was no denying that was a promising sign.
Unfortunately, her two hind legs still remained casted, and her wings were still lined with metal braces. Her movement was severely restricted, which explained why she’d hardly moved since she’d woken up the night prior.
While still standing just inside the doorway, Twilight magicked the tray over to Luna’s bedside. The sound of it clattering against the plastic table caught her attention, and her gaze jerked from the ceiling toward Twilight.
They remained like that for a considerable amount of time, sizing each other up. Twilight made no implication that she was going to say anything, leaving Luna to make the first move.
After another long moment of nothingness, Luna spoke up. “Why are you here?” she prodded, her voice level—as though she were holding back and hiding the true emotion in her voice.
Twilight took a tentative step toward the bedside. “Because I have to be. Princess Celestia asked me to be here while you recovered.”
Luna’s face scrunched up. “Tell her that I don’t want you here.”
Twilight smirked half-heartedly. “Believe me, I already tried. She wasn’t having any of it, though. Feel free to tell her yourself next time you see her, though.”
“Hmph,” Luna grunted.
Silence returned, thick and pervasive. Luna quickly broke eye contact, her gaze darting back to the ceiling.
“I brought food with me,” Twilight tried.
Luna turned to face the tray. She shot Twilight a look, then looked back at the tray once more, and fired another glare at Twilight. “You call that food?”
“Hey, I didn’t make it,” Twilight replied, smiling. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”
Luna rolled her eyes and turned her head over to the other side of the pillow, staring directly at the wall instead of in Twilight’s general direction. Twilight clenched her jaw, growing more and more impatient with this situation.
“…Look, Princess, I don’t want to be here any more than you do. I’m extremely sorry for what happened—truly, I am. You have every right to be angry. But… but we’re both stuck here, so we might as well be civil. If only for today, until you get a chance to talk to your sister.”
“…”
Twilight heaved a sigh. “You can’t just sit here and ignore me for the next few hours.”
Luna let out a singular laugh, curt, harsh, and entirely unwarranted. “Is that a challenge, Sparkle?”
“No, I—”
“Okay, I’m back!” the nurse said while trotting back into the room, completely oblivious to the trainwreck she was diving headfirst into.
She lifted her nose from her clipboard, scanning the room. Eventually her gaze fell on the untouched tray of food at Luna’s bedside. “Luna, you haven’t eaten. Did you see that—”
“—I’m not hungry,” Luna interrupted, a scowl planted firmly on her lips.
“O-okay… that’s fine!” the nurse said, her smile faltering for a brief second. “We’ll just get right down to business then. First things first, we need to re-record your vitals.”
She placed her clipboard down on the foot to the bed. “Twilight, dear, would you mind helping me?”
“Of course,” Twilight replied. “How can I help?”
“Just hold this here,” the nurse said, passing a dial over to her. “Tell me what number it reads when I look at you.”
After seeing Twilight’s nod in response, she turned to Luna and strapped the other end of the device onto her forehoof. After securing it, she took the far end of the device into her mouth and began pumping it to inflate the portion strapped onto Luna. Twilight watched silently as the dial in her hoof cranked upward. After a moment, the nurse shot her a look. Twilight replied by reading off the numbers as she wrote them onto her clipboard.
This process repeated itself several times while they collected information on her blood pressure, pulse rate, body temperature, and respiration. All the while, the room remained painfully silent, with only the sounds of their breathing audible over the nurse tinkering with her tools. The tension in the room was almost tangible. Twilight felt terrible for the poor mare—if she’d known that she’d be stuck in a room with the two of them all day, she probably would have called in sick that morning.
After looking over the data once last time, the nurse shot Luna a warm smile. “Numbers-wise, Luna, you’re looking much healthier than you were yesterday. That’s an enormous improvement! At this rate you’ll be back on your hooves in no time at all.”
“Mmmph,” came the reply, emotionless as always.
The nurse pursed her lips, still holding onto that smile of hers as though it were the last bit of sanity she had left. And to think that this exchange had only been going on for ten minutes; they had another few hours of this in front of them, at the least. “Okie dokie, then. Now we need only to check the range of motion of your legs and wings before we start the rehabilitation process.”
The day proceeded the same way that the first few minutes had gone—with the nurse essentially talking to herself to fill in the gaps between long, stale swaths of unabating silence. She’d explained to Twilight several times over that the day’s schedule would be the daily procedure for the next few weeks, until Luna was comfortably back on her hooves once more. First step, record vitals. Second, check range of motion for all her limbs. Third, move into Luna’s stretches and exercises—all things that would help accelerate the healing process. The whole ordeal was strangely intimate, if Twilight were being honest. Helping someone stretch out all their limbs was very hooves-on. Doubly so when the only “conversation” was the occasional grunt of pain.
The best part, though, was that process was so “simple” (as the nurse had put it) that in a couple days Twilight would be able to run through the motions without her guidance.
Joy.
Thankfully, once they fell into a rhythm, the whole endeavor seemed to proceed much more quickly. Despite it being slightly awkward, the stretches were fairly simple. The nurse would show how to perform the stretch on Luna, have Twilight replicate it, then have Luna do some sort of physical activity working that muscle or muscle group. With a physical objective at hoof too, it was much less uncomfortable. It certainly helped that they’d moved to a larger exercise room as well, with several other ponies and their aides present to quell the tension.
After a while of this—a few hours after Celestia’s sun began its descent from its peak in the sky—they headed back up to Luna’s hospital room. The nurse, bless her soul, still managed to hold the role of peace-maker like it was her job, all while doing her actual job.
With the help of a wheelchair, Luna dragged herself over to her bed and tried to hoist herself up. After the third failed attempt, the nurse moved so as to help her, but Luna’s head whipped around, fire in her eyes. “I can do it on my own.”
The nurse sighed, shaking her head.
On the fourth try, a disgruntled Luna managed to clamber up onto her bed, more out of breath now than any of the exercises had left her. Once she was positioned properly in her bed, she turned back to the nurse with a coy look on her face, almost as if to say “I told you so.”
It was then that the sound of a set of hooves falling heavily against the linoleum floors could be heard in the distance, slowly getting louder. The sound paused directly outside their doorway for a moment before a familiar face, half-hearted smile playing across its features, poked its head around the corner.
The nurse smiled right back. “Hello, Princess! Please, do come in.”
“I’m not intruding am I?” Celestia asked, taking a tentative step into the room.
“No, not at all. We were just finishing up, actually.”
Celestia certainly looked worse for wear—even worse than she had that morning. The bags beneath her eyes had bags beneath them, and her eyes were bloodshot. Her posture, while still firm, had a sense of… awkwardness to it. Like she was uncomfortable being on her feet, and that she needed to sit down as soon as possible. It was a subtle change, yes, but for Celestia, a small change was actually an enormous one. Heck, even her voice had lost its edge, sounding stale and tired. Defeated, almost.
“Sister, please permanently disallow Twilight from returning here,” Luna said with a tinge of bitterness, gesturing toward Twilight with her eyes. “I wish to avoid seeing her.”
Twilight’s eyes bulged, momentarily blindsided by the suddenness of Luna’s comment. Twilight’s ears splayed back and she fidgeted awkwardly in place as she waited for some sort of response from Celestia.
Celestia, just as taken aback as Twilight had been, froze in her spot. With her brow deeply furrowed, she glanced back and forth from Twilight to Luna several times, unsure of how to respond. Eventually, she decided on a singular word:
“…No.”
All in less then a second, Luna’s expression flashed from surprise to confusion and finally to anger. “But Sister, I—”
“Don’t be childish, Luna,” Celestia replied, taking a deep breath. “Twilight will be back here tomorrow morning, and you will let her help you.”
Twilight and the nurse shared a look. This whole situation was quite… unprecedented. Ever since Twilight met Celestia, she’d had a sense of tact while dealing with these sorts of situations. But now, in this moment, none of that was present. It was as though she simply didn’t have the energy for this argument right now, and clearly Luna had had the same realization too. Despite the scowl on her face, she was not about to argue with Celestia. Not right now, at least.
“We will let you rest for the time being, Luna,” Celestia said, turning to face the other two. “Come, let us give her some privacy.”
Not needing to be told a second time, the two of them headed straight for the door. Twilight, for her part, was the first one out of the room. It had been a long day, and she was far too eager for it to be over.
Once they were out of the room, the nurse smiled and waved goodbye to the two of them. Then, after exchanging a few parting words, she headed of to her other duties before heading home for the day.
“Twilight, will you be coming to the kitchens to eat today?” Celestia asked. “We missed you at lunch earlier.”
“Actually,” Twilight replied, “I… I think I’m going to retire for the night.”
Celestia cocked her head to the side. “Retire? But it’s only five in the afternoon!”
Twilight let out a sheepish laugh. “What can I say? It’s been a long day.”
Celestia nodded after a moment, her gaze boring straight through Twilight and looking off into the distance. “Yes, I suppose I can agree with that sentiment.” She paused, then said, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then?”
Twilight nodded. “Of course, Princess.”
Once she had Twilight’s word, Celestia supon off and headed for the kitchens by her lonesome. Twilight hated to see her mentor all alone like that, but she didn’t think she could sit through a conversation about today. Right now, Twilight needed to be by herself.
Shaking away the thought, Twilight headed off toward her room. She’d walked the path so many times in her life that it was burned into the back of her memory. Before long, she reached the bottom of that spiral staircase and began the long ascent to her room. Hooves dragging behind her, she eventually reached the top and shoved open the door and closed it behind her without ever turning around.
Her bed, neatly made by one of the servants at some point during the day, looked incredibly inviting, but she couldn’t sleep quite yet. She still had one other thing left to do. So, after snatching up her Smarty Pants doll and clutching it close to her chest, she trotted over to her desk and sat down. She exhaled deeply, then unraveled a piece parchment and grabbed a quill with her magic.
Staring at the blank sheet of paper, she began to write:
Dear Fluttershy,
Thank you again for watching after Spike in my absence. I’m sorry to have stuck you with him for longer than initially expected, but things here have been… chaotic, to say the least. I’m sure he’s loving the freedom though, especially when there are other colts and fillies around his age in Ponyville. Hopefully I’ll be able to come to Ponyville for good once this is all over—it makes me antsy knowing that there’s a whole empty library just sitting there waiting for Spike and me.
Princess Luna woke up yesterday. She’s not in the brightest of moods. I feel absolutely terrible about what I took away from her, and clearly she isn’t thrilled about it either. Princess Celestia keeps telling me that its not my fault, but I can’t help but feel guilty. There must’ve been some other way to get rid of the nightmare. I know it. I just couldn’t see it. I should’ve been able to. As if that weren’t enough, though, Princess Celestia is having me walk Luna through the rehabilitation process. She says she wants someone by Luna’s side, and since she can’t be there she wants me to be instead. Today was the first day of that and it went just as terribly as expected. I honestly don’t know what to do. I’m going to try apologizing again tomorrow, but I know that it won’t work. I usually trust Princess Celestia’s judgement—she’s never been wrong before—but I honestly don’t know what the end goal is here. All it’s causing is needless stress for everyone involved.
I realized yesterday that in all the chaos of this past week, I never got the chance to thank you and the girls for what you’ve done. Thank you so much for everything, from helping with the Nightmare to even now helping with Spike. I can’t wait to see you all again once this fiasco is over. I trust you’ll pass this message onto Spike and the others in good faith.Your Friend,
Twilight Sparkle
After reading and re-reading it to make sure that she hadn’t made any mistakes, Twilight folded up the parchment and slid it to the side of her desk. She’d ask Celestia to send it Spike’s way first thing tomorrow morning, but for right now, she had a perfectly made bed waiting for her.
With a prolonged yawn, she pulled herself back to her hooves and headed for the bed. She pulled the blinds shut on her way over, blocking out the final fleeting rays of the setting sun, and climbed underneath the sheets. She laid there, draped haphazardly across the bed, and stared at the ceiling. Knowing her day was finally over, she simply held her Smarty Pants doll close to her chest and waited for sleep to claim her.