Principal Celestia pulled the lasagna from the oven – a scratch-made recipe, modified to be vegetarian friendly and cooked just long enough to bring its many ingredients into harmony.
It wasn’t perfect. No time to try again. She slapped the dish to the oven top with a resigned sigh.
Luna sat on the counter next to her, munching from the salad bowl. “It looks fine, Tia.”
“We are hosting royalty.” Celestia didn’t quite snap the words, but her stress came through as a growl. “‘Fine’ isn’t good enough.”
“Pony royalty,” Luna said around a cucumber slice. “They probably eat raw carrots and hay. Besides, you were the one who wanted this.”
Celestia shook her head, releasing another hard sigh. “I did not. I have nothing in common with that woman, and I do not look forward to meeting her.”
“So why’d you say yes?” Luna asked, then waved her hand. “Never mind, I was there. Sunset was all, ‘Mom, can I have some friends over? And by friends I mean your horse princess demigod clone?’ And you saw that hopeful, smiling look she gets and caved like a spelunker.”
Celestia snatched the bowl from Luna’s side and placed it on the table. “What else was I going to say? ‘No, because I’ll look like shit next to Princess Perfect?’”
“I love it when you swear.” Luna smiled. “But seriously, if she asked me I would have said no. At least your clone is flattering. Mine tried to–”
“I found the silver!” Sunset followed her voice into the kitchen, bearing a massive grin and the dusty case of Celestia’s good silverware.
“Thank you.” Celestia turned to face her with a cheery smile. “I’ll take care of setting them. Can you look for my nice teapot? It’s going to be in the basement, in one of the boxes by the rifle rack.”
Luna pushed herself off the counter. “You nervous, Sunset?”
“A little.” Sunset added a chuckle to her grin. “We’ve been trading letters through the journal. At first I wondered if she was just being polite, but then she asked to visit. This is amazing. She forgave me, she invited me back, she said she loves me… it’s real. She wouldn’t be coming if she didn’t mean it.”
“Of course she does.” Celestia’s smile remained.
“Anyway, thanks for letting them come! I really look forward to you all meeting.”
“We look forward to it, too.” Celestia said as Sunset departed.
Luna waited for the young woman to leave before adding, “We do?”
The mask dropped, and Celestia groaned. But she didn’t respond to the wit – she pocketed her hands, looking to the side with a thoughtful frown. “You think she’ll go home?”
“She is home,” Luna answered.
“The student of royalty.” Celestia’s long leg kicked once at the floor. “Her own room, servants at her beck and call, her magic returned, a world of fairyland adventure…”
Luna cut in. “She’s a teenager. She doesn’t want that shit, she wants to hang with her friends, eat pizza, sneak beer, and maybe get a little nookie. It’s completely against her own interests, but she’ll stay.”
Celestia drew a sharp breath, eyes closed and eyebrow twitching. “Thank you for making me feel better about this, now don’t you have something else to do?”
A knock on the door snapped her eyes back open. “Shit, they’re here? How’s my hair?”
“Heh, you swore again.”
“Ooh-ooh, I got it!” Sunset was already pounding to the front of the house. She caught her breath in the hallway, tried unsuccessfully to fight down her grin, and threw open the door.
“Sunset! It’s so good to see you.”
The next thing Celestia heard was a piteous squeak. She leaned into the hallway to find a red-faced Sunset being embraced by two women – perfect copies of herself and Luna, smiling happily and butt-naked.
Luna, at least, had the good grace to step back into the kitchen before she burst out laughing.
Fortunately, the obvious problem was easily solved – go figure, the principals had plenty of clothes in the princesses’ size. The five of them sat around the table, with Sunset bouncing giddily in her seat and the other four smiling with mixed sincerity.
“Thank you for having us.” Princess Celestia bowed her head to the two humans. “Most of all, thank you for taking care of Sunset.”
Princess Luna nodded, already scooping out her own helping of lasagna. “Indeed! Tis most gracious of thee to share thy meager resources with one in such need as her.”
The human Luna did not hide her wince. Celestia did. “You are most welcome,” she said with a smile.
“Luna, dear!” Princess Celestia playfully chided her sister, who giggled in response. “Manners! We must have dessert before we load our plates.”
“Dessert is served first in Equestria,” Sunset offered.
A brief flash of teeth and honesty graced Luna’s smile. “I’m okay with that.”
“My student is correct. And I believe she shall recognize these.” Princess Celestia raised a small golden chest and set it on the table. With no apparent unfamiliarity with fingers, she clicked open the latch and flipped the lid to reveal a dozen sugar cubes, drizzled with a clear pink syrup.
“Sugarjoys?” Sunset’s smile wobbled. “Wow, you shouldn’t have.”
“But I did.” The princess smiled first at Sunset, then to the humans. “They’re an Equestrian delicacy. The sugar is mixed with powdered joy, with just a little bit of blossomberry syrup added to give it that light taste. They’re Sunset’s favorite back home.”
The last word’s emphasis was all in Human Celestia’s head. “That’s nice,” she said, very pleasantly.
Principal Luna accepted a cube along with the other three. She eyed the moist treat for a second, shrugged, and popped it in her mouth.
“How does it taste?” her sister whispered.
“Like the nectar of angels. Of course.” But the bitter comment did not stop Luna from claiming a few more.
Evidently the louder of the pair, Princess Luna pushed the box closer to Principal Celestia. “Have some! To hear mine sister tell it, thou must indulge whilst thy may, lest Sunset Shimmer devour them all!”
Both Sunset and Principal Celestia gave weak chuckles, the latter raising her palms out. “I’m sorry, I really can’t. I have diabetes.”
The equine Luna tilted her head. “Diabees? What do they have to do with this?”
“No, ‘diabetes.’”
“Right, ‘diabees.’”
The two sides stared blankly at each other before Sunset intervened. “Princesses, ‘diabetes’ is a disease some humans have that make it dangerous for them to eat a lot of sugar. Miss Celestia, Miss Luna, ‘diabees’ are a race of flying insects that invaded Equestria a few hundred years ago. They pollinated in sugar, which made it poisonous.”
“But that’s long past,” Princess Celestia continued. “At the height of their invasion, a young baker named Sweet Delight had the idea to show the bees just how delicious sugar could be. She baked them a feast of cake, cookies and pie, and it was so good that not only did the diabees agree to stop poisoning our sugar, they also resolved to make their own sweet treats and trade them with the ponies. That’s how honey was invented.”
A brief stillness followed the explanation, broken only by the tremble of Principal Luna’s fist around her fork.
“That’s very interesting,” Principal Celestia said with a tiny twitch in her smile. “Let’s eat.”
“We are a step ahead of you!” Princess Luna had already piled her plate with food while the others were talking. She closed her eyes as she took her first bite of lasagna, chewing and swallowing with relish. “Tis excellent repast, mine sisters from another world! Truly, thou hast worked a culinary miracle within thine humble means.”
Sunset paused with her fork poised for a second before digging in. Celestia’s eye began twitching, so she closed it and tilted her head. “Thank you, your highness.”
The pony scoffed. “Please, as We have said, thou art our sister and we shall speak as such. I have read Sunset’s letters to Twilight of the work thou doeth here, and tis grand! Fighting the good fight against the forces of evil who threaten thine world. Equestria has had many similar battles in recent years: Tirek, Chrysalis, and more. A war, even, some sixty years ago when mine sister fought the Unicorn Supremacists and their leader, Small Mustache!”
The humans blinked, and exchanged a glance.
“‘Small Mustache?’” Celestia asked, scarcely believing the parallel she saw.
Luna was even more incredulous. “‘War?’”
“Indeed!” Princess Luna bellowed. “On the fields of Prance the Equestrian army met them, sword to sword!”
Principal Luna stared at her twin. “Like… metal swords? For killing?”
Princess Luna waved her down. “Heavens, no. Foam swords. When one was hit, one then had to sit out.”
The two humans gave another blink as their minds digested, indigested, and vomited. While Principal Celestia turned her attention to the food with a quiet sigh, her sister pressed on. “What if they didn’t sit out?”
“Then a referee would penalize them.”
“You had referees!?” Human Luna asked loudly, her indignation finally defeating her tact.
“Of course. How else would cheaters be detected?” Princess Luna sniffed regally, then raised a hand to stage-whisper to her sister. “Hm, this other me seems a touch slow.”
“Now Luna…”
“Don’t ‘Now Luna’ me, We speak the truth.”
Princess Celestia smiled gently across the table. “At any rate, as hard as the war was on all of us, it ended well. At the height of the fighting a group of ponies began a song about acceptance and love, and it was so catchy that soon everyone was singing along. The Supremacists realized they were in the wrong and disbanded, and Small Mustache went on to be a fine painter.”
“Oh. My God.” Principal Luna laughed, then gave a few more laughs that sounded like sobs. “No wonder the changelings kicked your asses.”
“Luna!” Principal Celestia chided, then turned her painted smile back to the ponies. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” Luna followed with a shrug.
To both of their surprise, Princess Luna laughed with a full mouth and slapped her twin on the shoulder. “Neither are We! We see ourselves in this other me. She and I are the blunt and truthful ones.”
“Don’t compare us.” Principal Luna jerked her shoulder away from the hand, her scowl finally breaking through. “I will wither and die in the time it takes your royal ass to make a shit. We have nothing in common.”
Her Equestrian counterpart’s humor dropped, replaced with an imperious glare and a mouth pressed to a thin line. “Thou art correct. I am courteous and companionable, and thou lackest these qualities.”
“Great pasta, Miss Celestia!” Sunset called with strangled cheer.
Principal Luna ignored her, still focused on her twin. “Yeah, I guess you are nicer than me. Maybe you learned it during your thousand year time-out after becoming a genocidal maniac.”
“Now Luna…” Principal Celestia began in a warning tone.
“Don’t ‘Now Luna’ me,” Luna huffed. “We have to suffer, bleed and die to do anything in this world. I’m not going to sit here and get my nose rubbed in it by this bitch and her exposition-spewing sister.”
“THIS IS SERIOUSLY THE BEST LASAGNA I HAVE EVER TASTED!”
“ME TOO!”
Sunset’s feeble interruption was unsurprising, and duly ignored. Its note of support, however, drew four sets of eyes to the humanized Princess Celestia, wearing a beard of tomato sauce around her bashful grin.
One Luna laughed out loud. The other reddened and demanded her sister cease embarrassing them.
Hiding behind her teacup, the human Celestia finally allowed herself to frown. She had watched her twin eat daintily all meal, then quickly decorate her face as the conversation flew out of control. One move and one line from her mouth had averted disaster. Brilliant. Perfect.
Celestia could recognize the stab of jealousy in her heart – one that twisted as she saw Sunset laugh and scramble to wipe her mentor’s chin. But that wasn’t fair, and she knew as much. The princess was incredible, Principal Celestia was not, and there was nothing to do but accept it and move on.
“Do you have movies in Equestria?” she asked sweetly, quietly ensuring the Lunas wouldn’t pick up where they left off.
“We do,” Princess Celestia said. “Although we must go to a cinema for them. I gathered from Twilight that humans have the ability to watch movies at home.”
Principal Celestia brought her teacup down, her smile back in place. “It’s true, and I have one I think you’ll find interesting. It concerns the unicorn legends we have here on Earth.”
That perked the Celestial sisters’ interest. “It’s called, ‘The Last Unicorn.’”
Princess Luna made a face. “That is not a pleasant title.”
“But we’ll be happy to watch, and then form our opinions,” Princess Celestia followed diplomatically. The pair of them and Human Luna moved to the living room, leaving the leftovers to their host.
Sunset began stacking plates. “I’ll help.”
“Leave it to me.” Their eyes met, and Principal Celestia gave a truthful smile. “She came all this way to see you.”
The smile widened as Sunset stubbornly collected another plate. A good kid – doing what’s right, and damn everything else. It was how she rolled. How she made it this far, and how she seemed set to keep on rolling. Not just a do-gooder, but a confident, smart do-gooder who could turn will into action.
The future was bright for Sunset. It held whatever the girl wanted: a career in science, politics, law…
…Wizardry.
Servants at her beck and call. A palace home. A peaceful world.
A perfect mother.
Celestia’s gentle smile remained as she collected the dishes from Sunset. “Go with her.”
Maybe Sunset caught the double meaning in the words. Maybe she didn’t. Her sideways glance betrayed no thoughts. “It’s my choice.”
The sentimental heartbeat passed, and Celestia took the plates to the sink. “I grew up with that movie. Go watch, I think you’ll like it.”
Initially, Celestia went to join them in the living room. It was her favorite movie: the touching story of three flawed and homely souls bringing a lost unicorn to her destiny, then waving goodbye with glad smiles when she found it.
But seeing Sunset curled up next to that woman… no. Principal Celestia rationalized that she had paperwork to do, and set to in the dining room. She had seen the movie enough. She knew how it ends.
An hour and a half later, Sunset opened the connecting door, bringing with her the sound of two Lunas crying in stereo.
“How’d it go?” Celestia asked.
Sunset’s own eyes were a little puffy. “Pretty good, but you’re out of tissues. Princess Celestia is getting some toilet paper to substitute.”
She folded her arms. “To be honest, I hated it.”
“Not a fan of tearjerkers?”
“It’s more than that,” Sunset growled. “The prince, the cook, the wizard… they loved the unicorn. They did everything they could for her. Then when she learns she’s not the last after all, she ditches them to go hang with the others. It’s like, ‘Thanks for loving and caring for me, suckers!’”
“She went with her people,” Celestia offered.
Sunset shook her head. “The people who love you are your people.”
Celestia paused, and responded softly. “Sometimes love means letting go.”
“That doesn’t excuse leaving you.”
“What?”
“That doesn’t excuse leaving them.” Sunset looked steadily back to Celestia, showing no embarrassment at the slip. Or had Celestia just misheard?
The young girl looked away. She sighed, and shook her head again. “Tell you a secret?”
“Of course.” Still wrong-footed, Celestia fell back to her kindly smile.
“I hate sugarjoys.”
Sunset gave a quiet chuckle and closed the door behind her. “They were my first real memory with Princess Celestia. I had gone from hobo orphan to personal student in the space of an afternoon, and I was terrified. She saw me like that, so she took me to the kitchen, dismissed the staff, and used her own hooves to whip up a batch of sugarjoys. They became ‘our’ treat – the thing she would make me as a reward, or to get me through a long night studying.”
“Here’s the thing: they’re awful. Like a sugar cube mixed with syrup, cola, and doughnut glaze. I loved them when I was four, but I grew up.” Sunset sighed, and cast her eyes back to the living room. “I grew up, and she never noticed.”
“Sunset…” Celestia began, though in truth she had nothing in mind.
“That’s not a dig on her,” Sunset quickly clarified. “That’s just how she is. Compared to her, no one ever ‘grows up.’ She’s literally thousands of years old, so of course she thinks I still like sugarjoys. To her, fifteen years is yesterday. Fates bless her for trying, but she doesn’t understand me, and I don’t think she even can.”
Sunset shuffled in place. She glanced to and away from Celestia, a pink tinge coming to her cheeks. “I used to think of her as a mother. That was a dream. A mother isn’t someone who cares for the whole world forever – queen, matron, and god. It’s someone you think you can be when you get older. Someone who forgives mistakes not because she has endless love and experience, but because she’s made mistakes too and knows what it’s like. Someone who can say, ‘You’re special to me,’ without having to tack on, ‘just like everyone else.’”
Another glance, to and away. The pink in her cheeks turned red. “Someone who’s not too polite to say you screwed up. And who’s there to remind you that… y-you’re not a loser.”
“Sunset…” Celestia tried again, but Sunset pressed on first.
“Sorry. This is pretty heavy. I’ve been doing some thinking. I told you she invited me back, right?”
Celestia nodded. “Yes.”
“Well I’m not going.” Sunset’s voice shrunk to a whisper.
Celestia’s matched it. “I’m happy to hear that.”
She blinked, and Sunset was in her arms. The skinny, shorter girl wrapped her hands around Celestia and squeezed.
Celestia hugged her back – the move was instinctive at this point. It felt natural. And right.
The words also emerged without thought, giving the brain no time to intercept. “Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
Five quiet words they already knew. Sunset stepped away, grinning. “Now come watch me shoot that old mare down.”
Despite the bravado, their parting was peaceful. Princess Celestia stood on the porch, turned to the door for a last goodbye. “You’re free to come back, Sunset. I want you to know that.”
“I do,” Sunset said, standing with the principals inside the house.
The princess nodded once, accepting the unspoken refusal with perfect grace. Of course, but at least she was leaving.
Princess Luna picked at her shirt. She abruptly looked down to it as a memory struck, and began pulling it upwards. “Sister, we must return their clothes.”
“Keep them!” The principals cheered, hands out and smiling desperately.
Whether they grasped the fear or not, at least the ponies ceased to disrobe. Princess Celestia’s calm smile never moved. “Thank you. You keep the sugarjoy box, too. It’s just bettergold, I have a dozen like it.”
“I’ll walk them to the portal.” Sunset jogged ahead to the sidewalk, giving the sisters a moment of their own. The Lunas shuffled awkwardly, neither quite meeting the other’s eye.
“We doth apologize for our outbursts.”
“I don’t.” The human Luna smirked.
Princess Luna frowned fiercely, waging a brief and futile battle to hide her own smile. “Then neither do We.”
“It was a pleasure.” The words brought Principal Celestia’s focus to her own twin – a mirror image, and just as untouchable. “Perhaps next time you might visit Equestria.”
Celestia had smiled so much this evening her mouth was numb, but she forced its corners up once more. “It was good to have you.”
“You don’t need to lie.”
Of course the princess had seen the truth. Maybe she was never fooled at all. “I hope at least you will visit, and give us a chance to be better hosts than guests.”
Then she offered her hand, and after a moment’s hesitation Principal Celestia accepted. Strangers though they were, they could at least shake hands.
“Take care of Sunset. She could not ask for a better mother in any world.”
Celestia warmed at the praise, in spite of herself. “Thank you. But I am not her mother.”
“Indeed?” A hiccup entered the princess’ endless serenity. Her mouth quirked upwards beyond its peaceful norm, and she turned away. “Perhaps that word’s meaning is different here.”
She strode from the porch, her sister at her side, and together with Sunset they departed from sight.
A sharp elbow poked Celestia in the ribs, accompanied by Luna’s voice. “Wow. Even the ponies know you’re full of shit.”