Chapter 8
Sharing the Night: Chapter 8
✶ ✶ ✶
Twilight Sparkle was not afraid. She had mastered her fear, studied it, defined it and contained it. Still, her hooves seemed to tingle beneath her as she gingerly stepped out of the sky and into her bedroom in the Ponyville library. Each step she took was carefully measured as she kept a watchful eye on the floorboards to make sure Equestria stayed on its own side of them.
A self-conscious giggle escaped her lips as she marveled once again at the novelty of it all. Accepting the feeling of terror from miles up was one thing, but this—this was more like walking on the surface of the sun.
Even as a fresh shiver ran up her spine, though, she was glad to be back. The stars belonged to the night; she belonged to the night. Spending the whole night huddled on the Umbra’s metaphorical doorstep—hoping not to be noticed by anything on either side of it—was an experience not unlike replacing her blood with caffeine. Returning to the night, even now with Equestria beneath her hooves, was… soothing.
Fear of the unknown—like the stars—belonged to the night as well. As strange as it was, it was easier to deal with here, where both were part of the natural order of things.
It wasn’t just the night that helped her nervous giggle drain into a slow sigh of relief, however. The night was calming, certainly, but it wasn’t empty. The silent presence of the moon was a safe comfort which had become familiar since she had taken up the mantle of the stars. It was the kind of thing one could forget about, even while enjoying its company.
Her sigh of relief stretched on into one of melancholy as she turned to look up at the moon, with its single stationary star. Would that she could be so at ease with its earthly manifestation.
Luna… had apologized, hadn’t she? They’d even managed an honest-to-Celestia normal conversation… sort of. Things had been going so well before Equestria had ruined everything. So… why didn’t she feel like anything had changed?
The answer was on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t quite seem to put it into words. There was a growing sense of unease in the back of her mind that made it hard to concentrate… after all, she hadn’t glanced down to check on Equestria for a good ten—maybe even fifteen seconds.
A stubborn part of her wanted to keep looking at the moon just to ignore Equestria, but in spite of her growing mastery over herself, that part of her failed. Begrudgingly, Twilight gave in to her urge to make sure Equestria wasn’t doing anything behind her back. She was unprepared for what she saw.
She’d torn her eyes off the moon in the sky only to lock eyes with it standing in the snow below her window.
Normally, Twilight would have expected such a surprise to result in herself slamming the window shut and hiding under her bed, but seeing as she was already reining in a primal terror, the comparatively mundane act of finding the moon looking down on her—or up on her, as the case may be—was actually something she’d become quite comparably accustomed to.
After a moment of mental fumbling, the stellar alicorn settled on a simple, nonchalant “Hi.” Unfortunately, the sound that actually came out of her mouth bore only a cursory resemblance in content and fell far short in the delivery.
Luna mimicked it admirably. “Hi.”
Twilight swallowed out of nervous anxiety, having not forgotten why she’d been glancing downward to begin with. In the blink of an eye, she flowed out of the window as a field of stars and sidled up to the moon princess in a conspiratorial manner. Luna said nothing, only taking a step backwards as the stellar alicorn bent around her, searching for anything suspicious.
“T-Twilight Sparkle!” Luna exclaimed with her characteristic formality and volume, but a very uncharacteristic stutter. “What on Equestria are you—?”
“Shh!” Twilight motioned for Luna to be quiet. “Were you followed?” she asked with a hiss, eye twitching.
“I—what?” Luna was clearly confused. “Followed by whom?”
Twilight bent close to Luna’s ear and explained by way of a terse whisper, “Equestria.”
Luna opened her mouth to respond, but it seemed she simply possessed no words for an eventuality such as this. She shook her head, drew herself up and tried again, but the results were identical.
Twilight nodded with nervous vigor as the older alicorn processed what was no doubt a very serious situation. The hug that followed was, therefore, rather entirely unexpected.
“Oh, Twilight Sparkle,” the princess lamented. “Just look at thyself. Is this what mine actions hath reduced thee to?”
Twilight tried to say something in response, but her voice was muffled into unintelligibility by the princess’ coat, against which her face was being pressed in a most undignified manner.
Briefly, she wondered if she’d come back to the correct Equestria.
✶ ✶ ✶
The pancakes were great, Twilight thought, though apparently Luna preferred waffles. Twilight had calmed down remarkably quickly after dawn had finally arrived, and Spike had happily seen to breakfast for the three of them.
The pancakes were great, but Twilight did nothing but pick at hers, distracted as she was by the solemn weight of a day-old kale burger with her name on it in the garbage. Once again, she had failed her responsibilities as Spike’s adoptive guardian… Though if he resented her for it, he hid it well.
Luna, on the other hoof, was less difficult to read, as her worried eyes kept glancing up at Twilight to make sure she was still there, and not, say, at the door regaling unfortunate mailponies with tales of elder gods sleeping beneath their hooves... again.
In Twilight’s defense, five-thirty in the morning was hardly the time to be delivering mail, and she had only barely managed to hide the envelopes addressed to ‘New Resident’ from Spike. It seemed that somepony from the Mayor’s office had rather jumped the gun on paperwork related to the whole eviction thing. Regardless, the mailmare had deserved a good talking-to for that… though how the conversation had turned to the terror below, she couldn’t quite recall over pancakes.
Twilight gave out a groan just thinking about it, earning her looks from both Luna and Spike as she cradled her head with her hooves. She had enough problems—she did not need to deal with this right now.
She did, though. She did have to deal with it right now. The junk mail itself, at least, had met its end in the tiny fires of Twilight’s starry mane, but that didn’t solve the problem.
She would have to tell Spike eventually. She was rather certain that he would begin to ask questions if he just woke up one day and found himself in a palace. For that matter, he would probably notice the palace being built, if he didn’t hear about it from Rarity first. That was the real danger.
Suddenly, a thought entered her mind, and Twilight lifted her head out of her hooves with a jolt to look at Spike. Almost as suddenly, she found a renewed interest in her pancakes, making do with sidelong glances at the baby dragon. He hadn’t… already heard it from Rarity, had he? He would have said something if he had… right? It had only been one night since she’d signed the papers, she told herself, though it was hard to believe that considering how she’d spent it.
It was possible, however. Twilight didn’t doubt that Rarity herself would know by now—exactly how she’d know was anyone’s guess, but she was sort of like Pinkie Pie in that regard. The only question was how last night had gone. The burger in the garbage seemed to imply no one had stopped by.
Still, it was possible. For all Twilight knew, Rarity could have heard tell of the situation the day before when Twilight had been fired and the offer of alicorn residency had been made. She might even have known before Twilight herself. Twilight wouldn’t put it past her. Would she have told Spike, though? No, not before the papers were even signed, certainly.
No, Spike didn’t know—yet—she told herself. The time remaining on the status quo would be measured in days, however, if not hours, depending on Spike’s plans for today. Given that Twilight herself still needed to sleep, there was a good chance that those plans began and ended with a checklist listing ‘Rarity’ from top to bottom.
There was no avoiding it. They were having a pleasant breakfast, and the princess was even there; there was no better time. She had to say something. Still, she hesitated.
“Do I have something on my face?” the baby dragon asked.
Twilight realized with a start that one of her sidelong glances had gotten stuck and turned into what must have been a most unpleasant stare. She quickly looked away and coughed. “Um, no,” she dismissed.
A short pause later, she decided to get it over with.
“So,” she started suddenly, with all the grace of a moose. “A funny thing happened at Town Hall the other day,” she explained in a pleasant, upbeat manner. Luna perked up, thinking she knew where this was going.
“I—” There was the slightest pause in Twilight’s declaration as her better judgement began to take over. With a sudden bout of determination, she charged right on past it with as much forced cheer as she could muster. “I was fired.”
Spike fumbled his fork, which ended up on the floor, while the lunar princess poked herself in the cheek with a bite of syrupy goodness. Even Twilight herself was not unaffected. For all she’d gotten used to the idea, hearing it aloud was quite another matter. As the words hung in the air, Twilight’s throat began to grow tight, as if it could drag them back in and force them back down. She maintained her fake plastic smile as long as she could, but it only got worse as the silence stretched on.
Spike and Luna both broke the silence at almost the same time, though Luna was quicker on the draw. “They dare?” she shouted, mostly drowning out Spike’s own response of “Thank Celestia” as he bent over to retrieve his fork from the floor.
Luna and Twilight both stared at Spike as he cleaned his fork off with a napkin. Eventually, he noticed the looks he was getting. “What?” he asked around a fresh mouthful of pankake.
“Spike, the mayor fired me,” Twilight emphasized in a strained, breathless voice. “Do you have any idea how much that hurts? Do you even care?”
Spike began to look uncomfortable. “O—of course I care,” he insisted to his pancakes with a determined mumble. “I care that you already have too much on your plate.”
Luna looked rather confused. Twilight only had a moderate serving of pancakes, which wasn’t much for a growing alicorn.
“I mean, come on, Twilight,” Spike said with a little more confidence. “When’s the last time you actually did any libri—uhh—librifica… librarying?”
Twilight sulked a little. ‘Librarying’ was the least of the things she hadn’t done recently.
“You’ve already got a new job,” Spike argued. “Quitting your old one should have been obvious!”
Wait, that didn’t sound like Spike, Twilight thought. “Have you been talking to Rainbow Dash?”
“Um—maybe a little,” he admitted with a sulk of his own. “It’s true, though.”
Luna nodded. “He hath a point,” she admitted. “Or the element of loyalty does, in any case.” She looked like she wanted to say more, but held her tongue.
“He what? She what?” Twilight balked, turning to the lunar princess. “What happened to the… the righteous indignation?” she asked, a hint of hurt in her voice and feeling betrayed.
Luna looked at Twilight, ears drooping pathetically. Whatever the thought she was having, it was dismissed with a slow shake of her head. “That thee be dismissed as a common employee is a grievous insult indeed and was entirely unnecessary. The result, however, apart from your justifiably injured feelings, is the logical goal.”
“Logical?” Twilight asked, incredulous. “It’s logical?!” she repeated, face growing hotter. “Who are you to—I never asked for—I mean—why can’t I—?” She stammered over the words; it was only her whole life she was suddenly trying to justify in one sentence, after all.
“I can’t believe you two!” she finally yelled, slamming both front hooves on the table with a clatter of silverware. It was nowhere near Luna’s performance, but it got the job done. She looked from Spike, to Luna and back to Spike, but they only seemed shocked, not contrite.
“Fine!” she yelled, taking her hooves off the table and dropping to the floor. “Fine! We’re moving! I don’t care! No one cares!” she declared as she began to walk away. “I’m going to bed—where what I do is appreciated!” she shouted, storming up the stairs. The door to her bedroom opened viciously and then slammed shut as she fumed.
It took a moment before Twilight realized what she had just said.
☾ ☾ ☾
“I didn’t mean it like that!” came a muffled shout from upstairs.
Luna was looking up in the direction Twilight had just stormed off in. “Spike?” she asked without looking away.
“Um, yeah, princess?” the baby dragon answered, wary, but naturally trusting.
Luna frowned. “I confess I have not spent as much time with Twilight Sparkle as I should have liked. Has she always been…”
“Psycho?” Spike suggested.
“That is a no, then,” she deduced somewhat absently. The hair on the back of her neck was stood on-end, and she was fighting off a vaguely eerie feeling of déjà vu. “This is... most troubling.”
Spike looked across the table at Twilight’s unfinished plate of pancakes. It looked like she’d hardly eaten. “Yeah. Twilight can be… kind of crazy, sometimes, but lately it’s been different than the usual Twilight-crazy.”
“I wonder if this is what it was like for Tia,” Luna whispered to herself, visibly shaken.
In the silence that pervaded the room after Twilight’s exit, however, Spike heard her. He scratched the back of his neck, unsure. “Celestia always seemed to calm her down before...”
“Not with Twilight,” Luna clarified, in that same sort of scared whisper. “With me.”
Spike didn’t have to ask what she meant, and it was a long time before either of them spoke again. He shuffled about, silently cleaning up the remains of breakfast while Luna just cradled her head in worry.
This was not how it was supposed to go. Things had been going so well yesterday. It had all seemed so simple. As soon as Twilight returned, Luna was to apologize—truly apologize—and everything would have been made right.
Her apologies had fallen on deaf ears, however. Twilight had been too scattered and distracted to even care, first saying something about Equestria, then quickly becoming guarded and suspicious. Dawn had seemed to help, but it was hard to tell.
Had Luna been inconsiderate in admitting the sense of Spike’s words? She had explained the two sides of the issue quite clearly; the Twilight Luna had read about should have seen that. The mayor was out of line—she agreed! Why could Twilight not see that she was worried about her?
‘Why can’t you see I’m worried about you?’ echoed a distraught Celestia from Luna’s memory.
Why, Luna asked herself. Why was it the same? The same words, the same feelings, a thousand years apart. Luna had enough trouble dealing with the memories of her darker times. Why did it seem that history was repeating itself?
The lunar princess was broken from her reverie by the voice of Spike, who had finally mustered up the courage to ask after the elephant which Luna had carelessly left into the room. “Is Twilight going to…”
Luna closed her eyes, took a breath and let it out. “No, Spike. Not if I can help it.”
The baby dragon looked up at her, trusting and hopeful. “What are you going to do?”
“First, I believe I shall have a talk with your mayor.”
✶ ✶ ✶
Twilight awoke that afternoon unusually content. Slowly, she took a deep breath and let it out in a long, relaxed sigh. The feel of being curled up in satin sheets with the moon was simply indescribable, and she’d never slept on a mattress so soft. The room, also, was dark, which was an unexpected comfort. Waking up with the sun in your eyes was nice at dawn, but lost much of its appeal late in the afternoon.
Twilight turned over onto her back and gave a stretch. The sheets were the thing which she enjoyed most. She hadn’t felt sheets like this in years, since long before she ever came to Ponyville. She hadn’t had them in her tower; it was only Princess Celestia’s bed—which she had occasionally slept in as a filly—where she had had such an experience.
It was not Princess Celestia’s bed she was sleeping in now, however, and it was not a round, white moon next to her in that bed either.
The idea didn’t shock her nearly as much as it should have, though she supposed anything beat waking up to a toothy maw of living terror beneath her. “I’m still angry with you,” she said to the room at large. Luna didn’t stir.
Turning her head, Twilight saw that the lunar princess wasn’t actually in bed with her. It looked like she’d been sitting on the side of it and fallen asleep.
Expanding her inspection past the princess, Twilight frowned. The room was quite a conundrum. It was clearly finely made and very expensive. Had she not been in Luna’s chambers in Canterlot before, she would have thought that was where she was. The style was completely different, however.
Where Luna’s chambers had been crafted in dark, smoky marble and deep, rich blue Lapis Lazuli, the room which she was in now had a much starker contrast. The floor was some sort of white, almost pearlescent stone with designs carved into it almost a hoof deep in places and filled in by a thick layer of some sort of glass or crystal. As for the rest of the room, the walls and ceiling both resembled nothing insomuch as the inside of a giant geode, being shaped into large folds and covered in sparkling black crystal as they were.
The room, wherever it was, was absolutely stunning, yet it wasn’t immaculate. Spread around and clashing terribly with the decor were all of Twilight’s personal effects. Messily stacked bookshelves, dressers and various bric-a-brac dotted the walls, looking far too small and far too plain for such a grandiose room.
“You’re kidding,” Twilight said flatly. She turned once more to the sleeping princess at the bedside. “You’ve got to be joking.”
Pressing her hooves on her face, Twilight took another deep breath, let it out and blinked herself more awake. Clearly, she had been moved. Not in the physical sense—though that had obviously taken place as well—no, she had been moved as in, out of the library and into… where?
It made no sense. The only place they would move her to—the only place that would look like this was the new palace, but it didn’t exist yet.
Frowning, Twilight moved the sheets aside and stepped off the bed, keeping a careful eye on Luna. Twilight wondered, had she been put to sleep? Well, obviously she’d been asleep, but had she been kept that way, and for how long? Long enough for somepony to build a palace?
She crept across the crystalline floor over to the large double doors on the opposite end of the room and silently opened one. Then, she closed it. A moment later, she fell back on her rump, held one hoof to her wildly beating heart… and laughed.
And laughed.
And laughed.
✶ ✶ ✶
“It had seemed a good idea at the time,” Luna mumbled, sheepish after having been awoken by an incredulous Twilight Sparkle.
Twilight was sitting at her desk with her head in her hooves, shaking her head at the situation. Once in a while, her barrel shook with a single, silent chuckle. “You built… a single palace room… on top of Town Hall… in a day… while I was asleep,” Twilight summarized between breaths. The very idea strained credibility.
“Technically, it is a style proof for the rest of the palace.” Luna reasoned, “But yes.”
“I’m not even going to ask how. Why?” Twilight asked stressing the question with a strained expression that Luna couldn’t see.
Luna pawed at the ground with one hoof. “I spoke with your mayor about the library. The tree is yours, and she will not make the mistake of insulting you such again. They did not even need it.” Luna scoffed with disgust. “A crown city requires a much larger library.”
Twilight’s withers sank and then shook with another silent chuckle. “That… no, that is the opposite of an explanation. Why?” she asked again, still looking at her desk instead of at the princess. She didn’t know whether to laugh, cry or be angry.
“I am… worried about you, Twilight,” Luna said with a shaky, sincere voice.
Twilight, for her part, believed her. The princess had changed so much since this time yesterday. Still, she was holding something back; Twilight was sure of it.
“Though you took offense, which I apologize for… I think this will help,” Luna reasoned.
“Taking me out of my home is supposed to help?” Twilight asked. It came out angrier than she had intended.
“Being an alicorn is not easy, Twilight. It looks easy to others, it even seems easy to oneself, but it is not. It has a way of getting to you—” Luna said, a hitch in her throat giving her pause. It took a moment for her to recover her train of thought. “I know this, Twilight. You know I know this. Tia would have you flounder on your own—‘find your own way,’ she called it—but it’s not working, is it? Let me help,” Luna implored.
Twilight inwardly cringed. Working? No, it wasn’t working… but if Celestia had said it... “If Celestia thinks—”
“She changed her mind,” Luna said, cutting Twilight off rather sharply.
Twilight’s heart sank at that. Had she… failed Celestia? “She said that?” she asked, her throat a little tight.
“No, not outright,” Luna said in consolation as she took a step forward to put a hoof on Twilight’s withers. “But, Twilight, she sent me to help.”
Twilight turned to look at the princess. It hurt to admit it, but Luna was right. She was hanging on by a thread, and something needed to change... Maybe she needed to change. The room was nice, though she was mostly inured to palace finery; more importantly, the bed was nice. She hardly imagined that Luna’s master plan was to get her into a fancy bed, but… it would help.
Still, it didn’t feel right—Luna’s words, not the bed, the bed was fine; that was the point of it, after all. No, something was off about the whole conversation, though there was no question that the princess was eager to help. Maybe that was it; she seemed almost too eager, too heartfelt to be believed.
“What aren’t you telling me?” Twilight asked, unable to shake her suspicions. “Yesterday it was all you could do just to look at me.”
Luna deflected the question. “If you wish to talk about yesterday, I would ask why you fled the night, screaming.”
“That’s not an answer,” Twilight argued, avoiding the question herself.
“Is it not?” Luna sighed, head downturned. “Twilight, you worry me. You did not deserve my ire, and I feel at least partly responsible for your current situation. I would make amends, if you would allow me. Please, you cannot stay cooped up in your library.”
Twilight gave a derisive snort, “Look who’s talking. This is supposed to be better? It doesn’t even have a kitchen.”
“Yes, your dragon told me how many meals you’ve been taking at home recently,” Luna retorted with a sarcasm that surprised Twilight, who didn’t find it quite as amusing. “It will get larger, though. Very quickly. More importantly, you will not be alone.”
“Servants,” Twilight dismissed. “Guards. The library is more accessible to regular ponies.”
Luna tsked. “You forget, I talked to your mayor, Twilight. I also know how many regular ponies you see.”
“That still only makes them the same,” Twilight grumbled. She would get around to seeing other ponies if she could just be left alone for once. Wait, did that make sense?
“Have you ever seen a manticore, Twilight?” Luna asked rhetorically.
Twilight rolled her eyes. “You know I have.”
Luna nodded and continued. “A manticore in the wild is a fearsome thing, but bring it into the city, where it ought not to be, and it becomes twice as frightening.”
Twilight grit her teeth. She might expect that kind of comparison from, well, somepony on the street, but not Luna of all ponies. “I am not a manticore!” she growled in her defense as she shot out of her chair and turned to bear angrily on Luna.
“You are!” Luna shouted back, stomping her hoof on the crystal floor with a thunderous boom. “We all are. You deserve their respect, and it is a sign of their reverence that they bow instead of flee.”
“So I should cage myself like an animal?” Twilight asked, petulant.
“Yes,” Luna answered, suddenly meek in contrast to her previous outburst. “If you wish for them to see you as anything save a manticore, it will be on their terms. Caged, they will come to you. It will be a start.”
Twilight sighed. “A start,” she repeated mournfully. It sounded so much like starting over. Luna was right though, curse her. It was the same reasoning Twilight had used to convince herself to sign the alicorn residency papers in the first place. Why was she even arguing? “But a cage is still a cage,” she said, despondent.
Luna turned away, a sad look on her face. “Do you think Celestia feels caged, Twilight?” she asked.
“Celestia?” Twilight was surprised to be reminded of her mentor. “Of course not,” she dismissed, doubly surprised to hear a bit of bitterness in her own voice which matched Luna’s. “I think you do, though.”
Luna closed her eyes and lowered her head. “You would not be wrong. ‘Twould be a lie to suggest that you are the only one who could use some company.”
Twilight’s face grew hot, and she was suddenly glad Luna had chosen that moment to look away. She was acquainted with the idea that Luna was in the same position that she was in an academic manner, but once again she’d failed to consider the lunar alicorn’s feelings on the matter. “Fine,” she relented, turning away as Luna raised her head. “I’ll stay.”
Luna’s relief was palpable. “Thank you, Twilight,” she said. “I am sorry that it has come to this, but I promise, it will not be as bad as it seems.”
✶ ✶ ✶
Twilight lay in bed once more after Luna had left to arrange various necessities, such as—for example—stairs, or at least some manner of structure on the other side of the large double doors to grant access by ponies and dragons who did not possess wings, teleportation or powers of celestial manifestation. While the inside of the room was immaculate, there was quite literally nothing beyond save a long drop down to Town Hall below.
It was patently ludicrous, but alicorns did as alicorns liked, it seemed—for a certain definition of ‘as they liked’ which did not, apparently, include very much of anything which Twilight desired.
Not being put on the spot by the presence of said actual alicorn princess, Twilight supposed that Luna’s concern was… flattering, actually. It did pose a problem, however. Dusk was threatening to approach as it always did, and while she was fairly certain that she had a handle on the whole… immortal terror thing, she rather imagined Luna would notice, and was apparently of a mind to worry about Twilight.
No, it would be best if Luna didn’t have to see Twilight in such a state—which was fortunate, in a way, seeing as Twilight herself had things to do.
☾ ☾ ☾
Luna regretted having to leave so quickly after Twilight had accepted her fate in residency, but it was, quite simply, unavoidable. For all she had managed to convince Twilight that she had all of the answers and experience needed for the situation, she was hardly in any better position.
As she made orders for materials, directed ponies and explained everything that was going to be happening to various groups ad nauseam, there was no small part of her that felt an awful lot like a fraud. She was no stranger to the responsibilities and leadership roles that came hoof in hoof with being a princess, but at the same time, it was a dramatic change from the listless wallowing she’d been doing since her return.
Was she a fraud, though? Perhaps not. Perhaps she had not changed quite so much as she had once thought. She was scared, yes—forced into action by worry and regret—but did that make her actions any less genuine? Was the fire that drove her not of her own making?
As dusk arrived and Luna performed her solemn duty, she felt more alive than she had in ages. As she returned to check on Twilight, she felt that once again, she had purpose.
Unfortunately, however, Twilight Sparkle was not there when Luna returned.
In fact, Twilight Sparkle was not in Ponyville at all.
✶ ✶ ✶
Twilight Sparkle was not in Ponyville, not only was she worried that Luna might suspect something, but it would have made her current situation undeniably awkward. It had now been a week and a half since she had moved into the palace, and she’d been busy busy busy; stars don’t eat themselves, after all.
That was a joke, she clarified to no one in a manner that was perfectly sane. Star humor. In fact, Twilight would say that her wit was positively stellar tonight. In retrospect, it was a good thing that Twilight wasn’t in Ponyville, and none of her friends—or Luna, for that matter—had had to hear that.
Luna... Twilight gave a wistful sigh as her massive starry hooves held Cancer down and her sparkling teeth pried open its hard magic shell to get at the nebulous mass of stars inside. In spite of promises made, Twilight had seen very little of the lunar princess recently. It was mostly Twilight’s own fault, however, as that was what happened when you specifically avoided your co-ruler during the time of day which the two of you shared—and also during the other parts of the day as well, for that matter.
The Lunar princess had remained very busy during the few daylight hours which she was awake for and had made good on her promises of finer amenities for their burgeoning palace, in fact doing much of the heavy lifting herself. According to Spike—who was, coincidentally, spending quite a lot more time with Luna these days than Twilight herself—Luna was was earning herself quite the reputation as a princess who wasn’t afraid to get her hooves dirty, which, in Ponyville, was actually a good thing.
Twilight, on the other hoof, seemed to be a fading presence in Ponyville. While she had become quite used to her nightly terror, it still prevented her from properly concentrating on the research which she required—the analyzing of local legends in order to pinpoint starbeasts across Equestria. Her days, then, were devoted to seclusion in her recently completed, if only moderately stocked palace library, while her nights were spent hunting the deviant aspects of her existence.
All of that was about to change, however. The night was passing, and she would not be able to flee to the ends of Equestria when it returned. She had an appointment to keep—one which she could not avoid, as Luna had already had it delayed longer than she would have liked.
Tonight, Twilight and Luna’s joint stellar and lunar court would be held for the first time. It was certain to go swimmingly, Twilight was sure.
There was little she could do to avoid what would undoubtedly be an unmitigated disaster, save challenge Equestria before dawn. Even as she made silent note to herself that it was apparently possible for stars to be chewy, however, she knew that she was even less prepared for such a confrontation than she was for court.
As it was, she seemed to be trapped between a rock and an even bigger rock—the moon and Equestria, in this case. She wished there was a simple answer, but what was she supposed to do? Just… tell the princess that Equestria wanted to eat her and, perhaps, attending court at night would be a bad idea?
Well... yes, a small part of her said. That would be the sensible thing to do, after all. This wasn’t like thinking that she would be banished for becoming an alicorn—Equestria really was out to get her! The princess would understand.
Princesses, Twilight corrected herself. The princesses would understand, she repeated, because just this moment she wasn’t quite sure if by princess she meant Celestia or Luna, and the confusion gave her an uneasy feeling in a gut that she’d didn’t have right now. Maybe that was just Cancer, though; while there shouldn’t have been much difference between a giant space crab and any other starbeast, the mental fabrication of her nonexistant stomach disagreed.
But no, it wasn’t Cancer that was making her uneasy, it was having to think to include Celestia that had done it. Twilight wasn’t really thinking that Princess Celestia wouldn’t understand; she just wasn’t thinking of Princess Celestia in the first place. For once in her life... she wasn’t looking forward to writing a letter or report to her teacher on what she’d learned, and that scared her.
It wasn’t that she thought Celestia would disapprove, it just... seemed to matter less and less, these days. Celestia wasn’t the one she was supposed to be holding court with tonight, after all. More and more, it was Luna’s approval she was worried about, and that was something she wasn’t sure she was quite ready for.
It made sense, though, didn’t it? Celestia would understand, surely—or would she? She would be understanding... but no, she wouldn’t understand. There was a difference. Luna, on the other hoof, was different. No, Luna would know exactly the kind of rationalizations Twilight was making in her head right now.
Wait—rationalizations? Had she meant to think that?
Oh. Yes, she had.
How awkward.
☾ ☾ ☾
Twilight Sparkle was not in Ponyville, much to the detriment of Luna’s mood. It had been a week and a half since construction had begun on the palace, and ponies were already beginning to refer to Ponyville as the City of the Night in jest. Luna was quite proud of the progress and suspected the jest would disappear in time.
Still, for all the growing palace would be magnificent when it was finished—three angular white pillars joined by sparkling black crystal in the center—Luna wondered if it was all for naught. She had promised to mend the gap which Twilight’s ascension had wrought between her and the populace of Ponyville, but the stellar alicorn had become more reclusive than ever.
She had been aware of Twilight’s love of books, of course, but she hadn’t quite expected the single-minded devotion she seemed to be showing them during almost all of the daylight hours. Still, it was a comparatively minor issue, in contrast to the way she always found reason to disappear at night. The celestial experience was new to Twilight, certainly, but Luna was sure that there was something more going on—something to do with the stars.
It was a bit humbling for Luna, being kept in the dark as she was in spite of numerous pleas, and it was more than her concern for Twilight that made it so. She was worried for Twilight, of that there was no question, but at the same time, it went beyond that. She didn’t just want to keep Twilight Sparkle sane, though that was an admirable goal. She wanted more from the stellar alicorn.
The stars had always been special to Luna, though despite being their caretaker for thousands of years it seemed that now, she no longer understood them. It was quite possible, in fact, that she never actually had. As difficult as it was to admit, the evidence was growing.
Luna had always presumed to understand the stars, but at the same time, she had never really thought about it too deeply. If she had really understood them, would they always have fascinated her so much as they did? She had become quite enough experienced with boredom in her long life, to wonder.
In spite of the pride with which she spoke about her moon, it simply wasn’t the same. She wasn’t unhappy with it by any measure, but it was just... there. It was her celestial body, in both meanings of the word. The stars were different. They were beautiful, tiny sparkling suns which crossed the sky in forms and patterns that were a mystery even to themselves.
In the week and a half since her concern for Twilight had overcome her hatred, Luna had finally begun to let go of the stars and the hole their absence had left in her heart. It was much to her surprise, then, when they wouldn’t leave.
No, Luna didn’t understand the stars—or Twilight, for they were now one and the same—but there was also no denying that she wanted to.
✶ ✶ ✶
Twilight was only giving half of her attention to Rarity as the two of them ate breakfast together, the rest of which was divided between that stray thought she’d had earlier and chewing what were supposedly Equestria’s finest oats with strawberries and cream. One would think that eating an island-sized star-crustacean would have filled her up, but alas, such was not the case.
Then again, she was relatively certain she didn’t actually need food. Still, the oats weren’t bad, they just seemed to be chewier than they ought to be. Maybe it was just her imagination though. Her celestial jaws had gotten quite the workout this morning.
As she began to scoop up another bite, she realized the table was quiet. Looking up from her breakfast, she saw that Rarity was looking at her. “I’m sorry, Rarity, did you say something?”
Rarity clucked her tongue, but shook her head and went on without comment. “I was saying—I understand that there is still much to do, but can’t you have them build another bedroom yet? It’s scandalous!”
Twilight blinked. “It’s not really a big deal, Rarity. The bed is huge,” she said with a shrug before taking another bite of oats.
Rarity’s jaw dropped the tiniest bit. “The bed? You mean to tell me you’re sleeping together?”
Twilight gave a sigh and rubbed her temples with her hooves. “Rarity… you don’t understand. I mean you really don’t understand, okay? I know you’re mostly focused on… this,” Twilight said, lazily gesturing at the private dining room. “But… you can’t see what it’s actually like.”
“Twilight, I think I understand the nobility just as well as you. I haven’t exactly been doing poorly for myself, you know,” Rarity said with no small amount of pride.
“That,” Twilight said with a flat expression, “is exactly what I mean.”
Rarity looked like she’d tasted something sour. “I don’t appreciate being talked down to, Twilight.”
“Sorry,” Twilight apologized. Her big mouth had apparently dug her a hole she was going to have trouble getting out of easily. “I’m not trying to, it’s just… It’s nothing you could know, and… no offense, but I’d really kind of rather keep it that way.”
Twilight should have known better than to let Rarity smell a secret. “So… This is something nopony knows?” Rarity asked, fluttering her eyes innocently.
“Nopony,” Twilight said with confidence before something else came to mind. “Nopony but—no, nopony.”
“Twilight,” Rarity said, drawing the sound out coyly. “What was that?”
Twilight crossed her forelegs and puffed out her cheeks in a pout. Big. Mouth. “Nothing. I sort of was going to explain it to somepony, once, but she got the point before I did. You know as much as Rainbow does. Basically.”
Rarity grinned. “Rainbow Dash, hmm?”
“Don’t bother. She Pinkie Promised,” Twilight said with a smug smile. “And like I said, I never actually told her.”
Rarity gave a disappointed humph. “Twilight Sparkle, do you not trust me?”
That was it, Twilight was trapped. “I think you… can be overly generous, sometimes,” Twilight admitted. “Generous with things that you know. It’s—umm—a good quality,” she insisted with a slightly forced smile.
“Really now, Twilight. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were calling me a gossip.”
“The adjective ‘incorrigible’ comes to mind,” Twilight muttered.
“Surely if a Pinkie Promise is good enough for Rainbow Dash, it’s good enough for little old me,” Rarity reasoned.
“Oh, fine,” Twilight said, giving in.
“Well?” Rarity asked, but Twilight simply watched her, waiting. Rarity cocked her head and returned the look curiously… until it was clear that Twilight wasn’t going to continue. “Oh, alright,” Rarity said, rolling her eyes before making the motions with her hooves. “Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.”
Twilight nodded, satisfied, but still, she hesitated. “I’m only telling you this because Princess Celestia and Luna haven’t told me not to tell anyone. It’s just… I’m not exactly equine any more, Rarity.”
If there was something Rarity was expecting, that wasn’t it. She furrowed her brows in confusion. “I don’t understand. You’ve not grown any scales that I’m aware of, or anything else. Alicorns have characteristics of all three pony races; why, depending on how you look at it, you’re more pony than most of us.”
“That’s… debatable, and nice of you to say, but beside the point,” Twilight said, making a motion with her hooves as if placing a box aside. “Metaphysically, I may be a pony; I’m not about to give up my cutie mark or anything. It’s… physically, I’m not Equine.”
Rarity was quite beside herself. “You know, if you didn’t want to tell me, you could have just said so instead of—”
“I did, Rarity. I said exactly that. I’m serious, though. I get that you don’t understand, but I’m not intentionally obfuscating it. Look—you remember when we had that... event at Town Hall?”
Rarity nodded. “Your first stellar cour—”
“We don’t use that word in polite company, Rarity,” Twilight chided, thoroughly confusing Rarity before moving on. “You remember when I—as Applejack called it—‘turned up the creepy’?”
“How could I not?” Rarity answered politely, though still visibly confused by the previous exchange. “I still cannot find anything on how to create proper royal regalia.”
Twilight nodded. “That… is what I am. I’m ‘the creepy.’”
“You mean…” Rarity began, trying to puzzle out what Twilight was getting at as she went along. “So you don’t—umm—you’re not, ahh, interested?”
Twilight began to blush furiously. “R-Rarity!” she balked, shocked. “No! I mean, maybe…? But no! That is not the point!”
“O-oh,” Rarity stammered, and Twilight was suddenly glad the two of them were alone.
“Look,” Twilight said, standing up suddenly. “It’s like this,” she began—and then the room suddenly went dark. Twilight was gone, at least as far as Rarity could tell. The whole area had suddenly become a black space dotted by stars.
Rarity stumbled out of a chair she couldn’t see in order to look around. The effect was quite convincing. She could easily imagine that she had been transported up into the night sky—and during the day, no less!
“This,” came Twilight’s voice from all around, the stars pulsing with the word. “This is me, now,” she said with something closer to a sparkle. “The real me.”
Rarity opened her mouth to say something, but didn’t seem to be quite sure which direction to say it in. Then, just as quickly as they had appeared, the stars vanished, and Twilight was once more sitting at the table, taking a bite of oats and cream. When Rarity was done gawking—not that she would admit to doing such a thing—she strutted back to her seat, sat down and looked Twilight straight in the eye. “Explain,” she demanded.
“I don’t control the stars, Rarity. I am the stars,” Twilight responded directly back. She supposed she could have done that to begin with and avoided the… earlier misunderstanding. Hindsight was twenty-twenty, though, as they say.
Rarity opened her mouth, paused and then continued. “So, Luna is…”
“The moon, yes.” Twilight affirmed, pointing her hoof skyward, though it was day. “Sharing a bed is irrelevant; we share the night.”
“Oh… So, you two are close, then?” Rarity concluded.
“Yes—wait—no, I mean—yes, but…” Twilight dropped her head with a sigh. “This is why I didn’t want to try to explain it. You just… don’t get it. It’s not like that.”
“Well I’m sorry for only being mortal, darling,” Rarity said rather sarcastically.
“We’re… comfortable with each other, okay?” Twilight explained, then reconsidered. “At least, until one of us starts talking. Let’s just leave it at that.”
A moment passed as Rarity processed the information. “I can’t tell anyone?” she asked, finally.
Twilight facehooved. It was a shame, too. She’d been clean for three whole days, until then. “Look, if you think you can explain it to the rest of the girls, go for it—pending Pinkie Promises all around. I’d… kind of rather explain it to Spike myself,” she added, which actually meant she’d rather not have to explain it to Spike at all. Not for a while yet, anyway.
Rarity crossed her forelegs and gave a slight “Hmm,” as if working her way through a puzzle. “You’re sure you’re not interested in—” she had begun to say when Twilight simply disappeared with a flash of teleportation.
“Ah well. That’s a shame.”
✶ ✶ ✶
Luna was, quite ironically, nowhere to be found when Twilight made her way back to the bedchamber which the two of them were currently sharing. In reality, it wasn’t actually ironic at all, as this was the schedule they had fallen into; Twilight tended to turn in immediately after her morning meal so as to have as much time for research in the afternoon as possible. Luna, meanwhile, would be up for a while yet, arranging things for the day.
“Honestly,” Twilight found herself grumbling to the empty room. Rarity always let herself get carried away with her imagination. The situation was actually rather depressing when she thought about it—also when she didn’t, for that matter. It manifested as a vague sense of unease that clung to her as she closed the large, shuttered windows in preparation for a good day’s rest.
It wasn’t the tawdry insinuations of scandal that bothered Twilight, however, though she did wish some ponies would mind their own business once in a while. No, it was the reminder of what wasn’t which crawled under her skin like Equestria in the night. That one bright glimpse she’d had into a fantasy of celestial sisterhood back when all of this had begun haunted her still.
She’d come so far and done so much, but in the end, it was down a different path—parallel to what could have been, yet so far removed as to be unrecognizable.
Luna had been right when she had convinced Twilight to live in the palace with her; Twilight needed the company of somepony who understood. The girls—bless their hearts—always tried, but she was tired of seeing that look of perplexed confusion on their faces as they faked understanding.
It wasn’t their fault, and it wasn’t fair to keep foisting her troubles onto them. When was the last time she had just talked to Applejack about the farm or heard a story from Pinkie Pie about the Cakes and their twins? It was a special kind of loneliness, being surrounded by friends who couldn’t give her what she needed.
The shameful thing was, Twilight had somepony she could talk to and confide in—she had somepony who would undoubtedly listen—yet it was that pony she was specifically avoiding, and why?
Fear. Not the fear she faced nightly, that was only fear of a painful death in the jaws of a planet, not even fear of what Luna would think—not really. No, what truly scared Twilight was that Luna would confirm what she suspected, that she was wrong. Not wrong in her decision to hunt down starbeasts for their stars, but deeper than that—the kind of wrong that made it all necessary.
Deep down, she was afraid that all of her problems were because somewhere—somewhen in the process of becoming an alicorn—something had broken.
It was the fear that maybe—just maybe—her immortality was defective.
A greater fear did not exist.
✶ ✶ ✶
Twilight awoke feeling drained. Not even a cloud mattress and satin sheets could soothe her that day, and neither did she wake to the familiar comfort of the moon beside her. It was not only disappointing but very strange indeed. For a moment, she wondered if perhaps she’d only had a short nap, and maybe Luna would walk in the door any minute to join her, but the position of the sun put lie to that possibility almost immediately.
Had Luna been and gone, Twilight wondered, or had she never come to bed at all? Either way, it seemed like yet another lost opportunity. With the mood she was in, Twilight might have finally said something to the princess, had she been present—though had she been present, Twilight might not have been in such a mood.
Rather than think herself into a circular depression, she would simply have to be content dragging herself out of bed for a cup of coffee and a book to comfort her. Her lethargic quest took her first to the palace’s private dining room and then to the palace library where she found something that she was quite incapable of dealing with at this early hour of the afternoon.
It was Luna, asleep in a velvet armchair, with a book draped over the side of it. The sound of an imploding coffee cup startled the lunar princess awake. “Twilight?” she asked as soon as she realized who was in front of her then followed Twilight’s gaze to the book hanging beside her.
Twilight was quite beside herself with both shock and despair. “W—where did you get that?” she asked, as if tracing the book back to its origin would change anything.
Luna had not yet grasped the extent of her crime and was quite accommodating as she answered. “‘Twas on the shelf with the others,” she said, gesturing.
In retrospect, it was no surprise that the palace library had been stocked with a copy, of course, but that didn’t help her now. “You weren’t supposed to read that!” Twilight shrieked, not angry, but in regret. “I didn’t want you to read that.”
Luna seemed surprised to hear such a thing. “Why? The book seemed to imply that Celestia already knows of your illicit relationship with Sunset Shimmer.”
Twilight’s face grew hot, whether from embarrassment or a now growing sense of anger, she couldn’t tell. “My what? There is no Sunset Shimmer, and I’m not in any relationships, illicit or not!”
Luna nodded in understanding. “Ah. Yes, of course. I have learned of this pattern of speech. I concur—there is no Sunset Shimmer. In fact, I hath never heard the name before.” Her understanding was, apparently, overrated. “In any case, I am more concerned with the Timberwolves who seem to have developed a crude tribal society since my banishment. I understand that thou fear how an all-out confrontation would affect Equestria, but I believe I have a solution in the changelings—”
“Stop!” Twilight cried, interrupting Luna. “Just… stop. Oh Celestia, I can’t believe this! Of all the days to wake up alone... and I find you sitting here reading that—that garbage.”
“Garbage?” Luna asked, taking the book and holding it to herself protectively. “‘Tis by far the most engaging history book I have ever read. I should like to enjoy more such—”
Twilight grabbed the book out of Luna’s hooves with her magic. “It’s not a history book! For Celestia’s sake, Luna, it’s fiction!”
Luna stood and reached for the book with her hooves before stopping to process what Twilight was saying. She had clearly never heard the word before in her life. “Fiction?” she asked, innocent as a foal.
Twilight could not believe she was having this conversation. “A fabrication!” she shouted. “A fake, made-up story!”
Finally, Luna was beginning to get the idea. A vague look of horror began to dawn across her face. “A sham? You are saying… the events described in this book did not occur as such?”
“No!” Twilight shouted, furious that anypony could even think she had anything to do with the eponymous Twilight described in the book. “They didn’t occur at all! There is no Sunset Shimmer, no Timberwolf army, no changeling invasion and I am not two-timing Celestia in contradiction to my established character and moral fiber for no discernable reason! There are… there are beasts made of stars! There are primordial terrors hiding beneath Equestria! There is bit-store immortality, and there’s… there’s you! Real problems!” Twilight shrieked.
Luna was most unhappy indeed, at first looking at the book as if it had bitten her then listening intently as Twilight blurted out hints at what she’d been hiding. “Why would somepony write such a thing?” she asked, dismayed. “This is… ‘Tis base slander!”
Twilight, however, was not listening. She felt almost… betrayed. She had wanted to confide in Luna; she was going to do it, she told herself. Now, all of that had been ruined. Just the thought of Luna reading that terrible monstrosity—let alone doing so behind her back, and enjoying it no less—hurt more than she could explain.
“How could you do this to me?” Twilight asked with a downcast whimper of hurt disbelief.
Twilight’s change of tone had Luna shrinking back cautiously in spite of her being the larger alicorn of the two. “What was I supposed to do? I wish to help, but how can I when you tell me nothing?” she asked, somewhere between vulnerable, apologetic and defensive.
“I am not the filly in that book!” Twilight growled. “I am a grown celestial goddess! I am a monster that eats stars for breakfast! I don’t… I don’t need—”
“This is not about the book, Twilight!” Luna emphatically insisted. “It is about keeping you from ending up like me!”
Twilight’s ears folded back. “W-what do you mean?”
Luna took a step forward, closing in on Twilight. “You know very well what I mean,” she said, tapping one hoof on the stellar alicorn’s chest. “Do you think I cannot see the madness in your eyes at night? Do you think you do not whimper in your sleep? I see you fraying at the edges, yet you pretend nothing is wrong!”
Twilight turned away from Luna and stepped away. “I’m just trying to be normal! I’m trying to cope with it!” she insisted, before turning back to Luna, helpless. “Am I supposed to not even try?”
“It is tearing you apart!” Luna shouted in response, eliciting a cringe from Twilight. Contrite, Luna stepped back and lowered her voice, sounding as helpless as Twilight. “I cannot bear to see you thus, but what can I do when my every attempt to help is brushed aside?”
There was that word again. Help. “I don’t need help! I don’t need to be fixed. I don’t need to be solved!” she yelled back, as if volume would make her words true—for she desperately wanted them to be true. Advancing on Luna herself, now immediately in front of the lunar princess, Twilight turned and waved with her hoof. “I don’t need somepony building a palace for me to get lost in!”
Luna was stunned into silence at Twilight’s outburst. The only sound in the room was that of Twilight taking deep breaths in rhythm with her thundering heart. Slowly, Twilight dropped her leg, her anger dragging her down as it left her. “I just…” she began to say, slumping back on her rump. “I just need somepony to talk to… somepony who understands.”
Luna’s silence stretched on as she gingerly approached Twilight, who had begun to tear up and was doing her best to pretend she wasn’t. “That is all I want, Twilight,” she said, slowly placing a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder in order to pull her neck-to-neck. “I just want to understand.”
Twilight sniffed as she leaned into the lunar princess and cried.
✶ ✶ ✶
Twilight had traded places with Luna, taking the comfy velvet armchair for herself as Luna went off to replace the steaming cup of coffee which had previously imploded. She could only sulk, shamefaced, as the princess hoofed over the cup.
“I was going to tell you,” Twilight managed to say with a croak, her throat rough from the earlier yelling. “I really was.”
“I believe you,” Luna answered as Twilight took a sip from the cup. At first, Twilight was sceptical of her honesty, but the lunar princess clarified, “It is always the next time. ‘Tomorrow, it will be better,’ or ‘Tomorrow, I will be better. Tomorrow, they will appreciate me. Tomorrow, I will say something.’”
Twilight nodded to her coffee in place of Luna. The worst part is, she should have known better. She was Twilight Sparkle, not some filthy procrastinator. Quietly, Twilight took another sip from her cup, waiting for Luna to ask her what it was which Twilight would inevitably say tomorrow. The expected inquiry, however, never came. The lunar princess mutely made room next to Twilight on what had moments ago been an armchair and was now a small couch, sitting patiently.
Twilight was thankful for not being pressured into conversation, yet vexed at having to find the courage to begin on her own. She took a long, deep breath, and let it out, trying to prepare herself.
She began, not at the end, with Equestria, but at the beginning. She told Luna everything she could remember that had lead up to the current situation—about Rarity pointing out her aberrant growth, her overreactions and losing herself for hours that first time she had touched the stars. They weren’t particularly important in the grand scheme of things, but Twilight wanted to explain and maybe prepare Luna—and herself—for what was to come.
Much to Twilight’s surprise, Luna seemed interested—even grateful—to hear Twilight talk about the wonder of discovering her connection to the stars. The lunar princess dismissed the notion, explaining that it helped her distance herself from the stars by listening to Twilight’s experiences. It didn’t seem that Luna was at all interested in distance, regarding the matter, however.
Encouraged nonetheless, Twilight continued on to topics more sensitive. She recounted the letter from Celestia, her talk with Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy, the night spent crafting an illusion spell to hide her wings and, eventually, her visit to the palace. When the subject came to Twilight and Luna’s altercation on the palace rooftop, they each found themselves stumbling over each other’s awkward apologies.
Ultimately, when no more apologies could be made, Twilight moved on, briefly covering her lesson with Celestia and the first time she had truly become one with the night. It was a wonder, she confided to Luna, that she had thought that she had any problems at all, at that point.
Pressing on, she completely neglected to mention waking up in bed with Fluttershy, instead taking extra effort to explain her friends’ reactions to the news of her alicornification. Luna required quite a bit of explanation and eventually Twilight was forced to move on before the lunar princess was entirely convinced of their good will—especially when Twilight recounted her encounter with Applejack half laughing, and half choking up.
When she couldn’t delay any longer, Twilight continued on to her second talk with Applejack, which was much more difficult to explain. As she had originally, Twilight cried once again in admitting that being an alicorn had always been her dream, though the reason for her tears was different now, knowing what she knew. She was grateful to have Luna to comfort her this time, and Twilight wished she could stop right there and have that be the end of it. In a way, she was granted her wish, as she ended up having to take a break in order to get cleaned up and compose herself.
Eventually, though—reinforced by a cup of hot cocoa and a bagel—she had had to continue, because for all that opening up to Luna over the course of her story was a relief and for all that she had explained, what really mattered was how it had all come crashing down. Settling back in and giving a sad, listing sigh, Twilight picked up the tale once more by describing her disillusionment with the celebration Pinkie Pie had thrown her and the resulting walk home which had turned into so much more.
Going over the event with the Ursa Major from front to back and back to front again was a difficult ordeal that took a good half an hour all on its own. Twilight had told Luna before that she manifested backwards from the elder alicorn sisters, but that cursory explanation belied just how traumatic the discovery had been and had been ever since. Twilight could tell that the lunar alicorn had wanted to comment on the destruction of the old castle, but it had simply ceased to be important as more weighty matters came to light.
If there was one bright side to the matter, it was that Luna did not begrudge Twilight the reclamation of her lost stars, even when Twilight skipped ahead and admitted to hunting them down this past week and a half. It was little consolation, though, compared to the more disquieting aspects of the conversation. In fact, Luna nearly took back her approval when she learned that the stars Twilight was recovering had memories of their own.
Twilight tried to reassure Luna that the starbeasts were only a small drop in the bucket of her being and their memories rarely interesting, but Luna was not ignorant to the damage a small voice of dissent could do to a pony. Even this, however, was overshadowed by a more insidious concern—the simple matter of what such a divisive existence would do to a pony in the long run.
The very idea that Twilight had to split herself off from the sky in order to manifest was distressing—and doubly so since neither of them could offer any solid conjecture on the matter. Reassurances on both sides simply fell flat, and the muddiness of the issue haunted them both with a sense of unease. There was, quite simply, no answer, and the topic eventually died into disquieted silence.
Given the mood which the trying topic had left in the room, Luna had imagined that they had come to the crux of the issue. To this, Twilight could only joke humorlessly, suggesting Luna refill her cup, for there was still one more topic yet to come. Luna obliged Twilight, proffering another pot of coffee for the two of them, though no amount of caffeine could stave off the weary mood that had taken root in the room.
As the afternoon stretched on, Twilight recalled being tracked down by the Astronomers’ Guild of Equestria. In contrast to Luna’s earlier responses of stammered apologies for the troubles she had caused Twilight, Luna now sat in mute, embarrassed silence, explaining in only a few words that she had been to blame for the timeliness of their arrival. It wasn’t until Twilight described her unnatural fear during her first session of court, however, that Luna became truly troubled.
Many of Twilight’s early troubles could be explained simply by way of her personality—which was, to put it kindly, of a highly-strung nature. Luna’s own actions, of course, had not helped matters, but that was beside the point. Further stress and… instability… could be laid at the hooves of some truly extraordinary events and revelations, the true consequences of which remained uncertain. This, however? An instinctual fear powerful enough to give an alicorn pause and its source was a simple mortal pony?
“I have never heard of such a thing, Twilight,” Luna said, shaking her head in weary distress. “I have met this stallion you speak of—there is nothing special about him.”
“I know,” Twilight groaned, rubbing her eyes, exhausted and spent. “I know, it’s just… ridiculous.”
“Have you encountered this unexplained fear elsewhere, before or since, not counting the starbeasts?” Luna asked, furrowing her brow as she tried to think of some explanation.
Twilight just stared at her. “You have no idea,” she said, once again succumbing to a rather dark humor. Luna visibly wilted, and Twilight empathized. This wasn’t easy for either of them, and she almost felt a little guilty for dragging the lunar princess down with her just so she would have company. She had no choice, though. She had to believe it would help.
“Every night,” Twilight admitted, tired and haunted. “Every night, like you wouldn’t believe. It comes from below, somewhere deep beneath Equestria. It’s everywhere and nowhere, huge, just… impossibly massive. Bigger than me. That’s why I’ve been chasing down stars—in hopes of, I don’t know, winning?—but it’s not enough. It’ll never be enough.”
Luna turned her head to look at Twilight beside her, seeming hesitant and uncomfortable, clearly not sure if she should speak or not. “And… if it was, Twilight? You do know that is not an option... right?”
Twilight swallowed to clear her throat. “Right,” she said turning away. “Fighting Equestria is bad. It’s where I keep all my stuff.”
Luna gave a sigh of relief.
“Well, not actually all my stuff,” Twilight clarified, thoughtful. “I mean, the stars are my stuff, aren’t they? They’re me-stuff anyway—wait, is that grammatically correct?”
“Twilight,” Luna reproved.
Twilight looked up, then down again. “Sorry.”
“You realize I only ask because there was a time when I would have answered differently, do you not?” Luna said, placing a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder.
Twilight nodded minimally. “I take it you don’t really know of any ancient evils sleeping beneath the entirety of Equestria? That seems like the sort of thing you wouldn’t leave laying about.”
Luna seriously considered the question for a long while, but eventually, shook her head. “I am sorry, Twilight, I cannot think of anything it could be.”
Twilight closed her eyes and took a breath. “That’s… what I expected, I suppose.”
“I promise you, it will not go unanswered long,” Luna said with sincerity. “And…” she began to say but hesitated. “It may be poor consolation, but you needn’t face it alone. Fear might be made impotent in light of the power of friendship,” she recalled with a nostalgic smile. “I learned that from somepony.”
Twilight’s smile held a bit of melancholy, but it was a smile nonetheless. “Thanks… really.”
✶ ✶ ✶
The two alicorns of the night collapsed in silence for a while, sharing an unspoken relief in the cathartic wake of everything that had been said. The couch, which had originally seated the two rather cozily side by side, now found itself serving as little more than a rough guideline for where a pony ought to be.
“Well, I suppose it’s some comfort to know it isn’t crowded down there, at least,” Twilight joked, trying to make the best of her disappointment.
Luna tapped one hoof to her chin where she lay. “Indeed, as far as I know, ‘tis nothing but dragons all the way down. An argument could be made that this still counts as crowded, however.”
Twilight gave a sigh, her head resting on Luna’s barrel. If only she could—“Wait, dragons?”
Luna nodded. “They are diurnal even when they are not hibernating, so it must be something else. I just hope whatever it is does not wake them up—though if Discord could not, I doubt it is possible.”
“Luna,” Twilight said, too dispirited and tired to get upset. “Pretend for a moment that I don’t know anything about any theoretical subterranean dragons, okay?”
“Oh.” Luna blinked. “It is simple: Equestria is made of dragons.”
“Ah, well, that explains it,” Twilight said, staring up at one of the library’s crystal chandeliers. “You’re sure it’s not them?”
Luna nodded, running a hoof through her own ethereal tail. “As I said, they are diurnal. Since you are disturbed at night, it would make no sense unless it is their snoring that is bothering you.”
Twilight shook her head. “Can’t be, Spike snores all the time.”
“Well there you go, then,” Luna stated simply.
“How does it work, anyway?” Twilight asked, curious. “Equestria being made of dragons.”
Luna was surprised. “You’ve never seen a truly ancient dragon?”
“Nope. Saw a dragon migration once, but you’d know about that,” Twilight reminded her, still a little put out that her friendship letters had apparently been a popular periodical amongst alicorn sisters.
“I see. There were few mature dragons left after Discord’s reign; there must be a generation gap,” Luna reasoned. “Though they do not migrate at that age regardless; they lose their ability to fly, you see.”
“So, dragons,” Twilight stated, an open question.
Luna leaned back, piecing together what she knew. “They resemble us, in a way, but they are creatures of earth and flame.”
“Did you just say I look like a dragon?” Twilight asked with mock-offense, which was entirely ignored by Luna.
“Unlike us, though,” Luna continued. “They are tied to the turning of this world, forever growing and aging.”
Twilight shuddered, strong enough for Luna to take notice. “And I thought stellar-brand immortality was bad. They should have shopped around.”
Luna shook her head. “It is not like that. They age, but they do not age as flesh and blood does. Consuming the earth and its magics as they do, they come to resemble the land and eventually become it. Their hibernations become longer and longer until one day, they do not rise. Thus the land of Equestria came to be and so has has been since time immemorial… probably.”
“Huh,” Twilight commented without complication. “That’s neat.”
“They are fascinating,” Luna admitted. “But I do not envy them”
Twilight wrinkled her nose. “Well no, not if it’s dragons all the way down.”
“Rather crowded,” Luna agreed.
“So, the stories about digging up dragon eggs in mines?” Twilight asked, her curiosity piqued.
“All true,” Luna confirmed.
Twilight crossed her forelegs and cradled her chin with the back of one hoof. “I wonder how that works.”
“I couldn’t tell you,” Luna admitted. “There is a certain level of privacy inherent in the act.”
“That’s probably for the best,” Twilight allowed.
“It would be rude to watch,” Luna added.
Still, Twilight couldn’t quite let it go. “They’d be asleep, though.”
“Can’t be very interesting,” Luna countered.
Twilight furrowed her brow. “Are you sure they hibernate permanently?” she asked, changing the subject slightly.
Luna blinked. “What do you mean?”
“Well, if they just sleep longer and longer, the duration could approach infinity, but never reach it,” Twilight reasoned.
Luna frowned. “That seems like it would be unpleasant.”
“Waking up a mile down—it would explain earthquakes,” Twilight offered thoughtfully.
Luna wasn’t convinced. “So would nightmares, though.”
Twilight cursed her own imagination. “Just thinking of it is going give me nightmares.”
Luna wasn’t much help. “You already have nightmares,” she pointed out cheekily.
“Nightmares are cumulative,” Twilight asserted ruefully.
Luna had opened her mouth to fire off another comment when a completely different voice interrupted her.
“Um, princess?” the voice asked, allowing both Twilight and Luna to follow it back to a blonde-maned, white pegasus with a clipboard under one wing. Twilight recognized her as one of the heralds which had mysteriously appeared—from Twilight’s perspective, anyway—when the palace had begun to take shape.
“Not it!” Twilight declared, raising her hoof triumphantly at her lack of princesshood.
“Well, it’s both of your majesties, actually,” the herald explained, much to Twilight’s consternation. “I’ve been asked to inform you that you have court in ten minutes.”
“Curses, foiled again,” Twilight grumbled.
“Be nice,” Luna shot back. “Court is one of the ways ponies will get used to you once again.”
“I know,” Twilight sulked, averting her gaze. “I just hadn’t realized how close it was to dusk.”
“Oh,” Luna said, remembering what night meant for Twilight. “For what it is worth, I will be with you.”
“I… yeah. Okay.” Twilight relented, though she didn’t move to get up. “Also,” she said, giving the herald a pointed look and Luna a pointed hoof. “She’s a majesty, not me. I checked.”
The herald cocked her head in confusion. “Are you not Princess Twilight Sparkle?”
“Nu-uh,” Twilight denied lazily. “Twilight Sparkle, no princess. Alicorn. No title.”
“Oh,” the herald said, brightening up. “I guess no one told you—the paperwork went through recently.”
Twilight blinked. “Paperwork?” she asked, suddenly worried. “What paperwork? There is no paperwork. I’m not even a landowner. Can’t happen.”
“That is not exactly true,” Luna chided. “I told you I arranged for the library to be put in your name.”
“You did this?” Twilight squawked in distress, craning her neck to look at the lunar princess.
“I didst not!” Luna insisted hotly before shrinking inwardly and adding, “Probably. The paperwork was confusing.”
Twilight rolled her eyes and collapsed back onto Luna’s barrel with a pout. “Great. I’m a princess.”
“A princess of one tree,” Luna scoffed. “It is fine; it will be less confusing for ponies if you are a princess.”
“Umm,” the herald shyly interjected once more.
“What?” both Luna and Twilight asked at once.
“It’s just,” the herald began, taking a moment to step away from the pair of alicorns and double checking her clipboard. “According to this, that isn’t right at all,” she said, looking at Twilight. “You appear to be princess of the libraries.”
Twilight opened her mouth, paused, narrowed her eyes and asked, “Libraries?”
The herald took another step back. “Yes,” she squeaked in a manner not unlike Fluttershy.
“Plural,” Twilight prompted.
The herald nodded.
“As in…”
“All of them.”
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As always, a pleasure to edit, Cast.
Another fine chapter.
It's alive!?
Happy dance.
Also I owe you a hat tip, as I used your model of Alicorn Twilight in my current story.
AHHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA THIS UPDATED YES!
This story is still nice. However, I'd honestly forgotten what it was about, and kept having to think "wait, what are they talking about?" when trying to match this up to all the other twilicorn stories from the last year and a half...
"Reigning in" should be "reining in", as detailed here.
It'd be very stereotypical if I yelled "IT'S ALIIIIVE" right now.
Well, fuck stereotypicals. IT'S ALIIIIVE!!
3262790
I'll take a look
3262824
Clearly only one solution remains:
monitorreread everything.3262836
Will fix
Luna... What have you done...
Love.
Love. Love. Love. Love!
Quite awkward.
nowiknow.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/08/01-gold-bar.jpeg
What is with all these awesome stories coming back from hibernation?! I love it! (This is probably my favorite twi/luna alicorntwilight story ever!)
3262846 Oh, I felt I needed to.
My god, that was her plan all along. Play the poor distressed several time savior of Equistria turned alicorn to become the overlord of all libraries.
denver.mylittlefacewhen.com/media/f/img/mlfw6245-Mother_of_me....png
Hahahaha! And another fillyhood dream of Twilight's is fulfilled. All the books are hers!
Well I certainly wasn't expecting to see this again... And I sadly mean ever again. As in I lost hope in it updating.
Anyway, now it appears Twilight owns all the libraries. That made me giggle.
Ugh, going to have to re-read this one. Not even sure how much I remember.
3262794>>3262840>>3262900>>3262949
Pshaw, it's only been six months. I didn't even disappear this time!
Seriously though, feel free to follow my profile if you'd like updates on the progress of chapters.
DUDE... YOU ARE ALIVE!!!! NICEEEE!!!!
Has no one heard of the word lay?
Still, Thank the Alicorns for this chapter update!
Well, that was a fun read, especially the end.
I love those silly twists.
3263030
It's my understanding that one lays a book on a table and lies down next to it on the couch. It's a tricky one, though.
Equestria is made of dragons?
And here I thought it was made of changelings who'd disguised themselves as everything because the real Equestria asploded... or something...
Princess of all the libraries. All of them
* falls to the floor laughing* I think Luna broke Twilight or just made one of her dreams came true
OMG NOT DEAD
THE FUN HATH BEEN DOUBLED HAZA
I always knew Twilight would be Princess of Books in one way or another. Princess of Libraries fits just as well.
to be perfectly honest, this whole thing has gone totally off the rails from when I started reading it and I can't stand stories where characters talk without saying anything or making sense.
3263137
The word is huzzah
, and I agree
3263058
Well yes, one lies on the couch right now. But one lay on the couch, while reading a book, a while ago.
Lie-lay-lain.
Though I probably messed the example... need to sleep...
3263058 lay is used with an object. In that sentence, the object is Luna.
3263165>>3263169
This is why nobody likes you, English language
3262824
I find the best solution to this is to read the previous chapter before jumping into the new one. Helps me keep all the stories straight in my head. Might work for you too, who knows.
Twilight chasing down every other starbeast and tearing them apart to devour them is... vaguely disturbing, but I suppose I'd do the same thing.
Glad to see Twilight finally talking about her problems. It's been far too long in coming.
Interesting spiel about dragons. Maybe Luna ought to try checking in on their dreams once in a while, if they really are sleeping. Could be fun.
Now Twilight just needs to reconnect with her friends, Harmonize whatever Luna woke up, and she should be pretty well set for a happy ending.
3263175 Because we made the language and understandably get to define it?
I wouldn't object to Americans getting to define American, except the insist on calling it English!
3263188
I meant the language
Might be best chapter yet
Well, now that I remembered to comment on the story itself.
)!
Yay, progress! More ponies know about Twi's starhood(
Twilight Sparkle, the Princess of Libraries! And books! Wait, does that mean she can now punish that one colt for disrespecting a book from the library?
Apparently, when you go to Equestria, there be Dragons everywhere!
And the Unknown Eldritch Horror lurks below!
Oh, hay, it's 2 AM and I need to wake up before 7 AM! Four hours of sleep... Fun...
Oh, a discussion on English's usage! Neat! Is it just me or is English technically an amalgam of different language bases? Or something?
Yup, I'm tired!
Night Y'all...
Oh, Tick...
3263195 Fair enough. It is indeed a confusing and nasty beast.
I had to wrack my brain a bit for some of this (I remembered the starbeasts and Equestria and fights with Luna but when it came to her conversation with Rarity about not being interested in something it was time to go look at the previous chapters) but I'm glad to see this updating again. The chapter was enjoyable and we got all kinds of nice stuff-- Cannibalistic star-eating Twilight, long overdue talks, metaphysical explanations (though I do have to ask what the dragons are sleeping on), etc.
Actually on dragons... Possible Spoiler theory, highlight to read: [color=transparent]Has she faced Draco yet, if she's fighting constellations? It occurs to me that it may be under the earth.
Hahaha, a great chapter! Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Libraries! Bwahahaha!
Well, it's been between five and six months since this story updated. Time to re-read it. Just like Rites of Ascension.
Yay! I still think she should have told Celestia that she thinks Equestria wants to eat her.
Princess of all the libraries?
Yes.
Yes that'd do it.
Twi is princess of the night
Well, she's one of them, right?
And Luna's reignin'. pushed the paperwork through, see
Now don't you know
Twilight's domain is libraries- raries.
Chasin' down the starbeasts
But now the sun shines on Equestria
And the night is hysteria
Twilight Sparkle jerks awake in bed, land sakes!
Princess Twilight, please tell us why
You've tried to run away for so long
Please tell me what's wrong
Hey you with the starry mane
Welcome sister of outer space
Recrimination- and the star's are up there waitin'
Flee Luna and have an all-you-can-eat buffet!
Hey there sister Twi
I built for you a palace room
In a day, that's all it took
So why don't you come and look?
Twilight Sparkle, Twilight Sparkle
Twilight Sparkle
Princess Twi, your court's at night
With princess Luna it will soon be over
A burden you must shoulder
Ease your mind she'll aid you in this
She'll aid you in this today
Princess Twilight, please tell us why
You've tried to run away for so long
Please tell me what's wrong
Actually, here's an interesting thought: What if it's the sun that has Twilight so terrified? She's terrified in Equestria's general direction, sure, but we know that the sun is on the opposite side of the night so...
Makes sense, right?
3263246
I do actually like English for its variety of words, though.
3263282
I can confirm that draco is not under the earth
Also, FimFiction has spoiler tags that you can simply mouse over instead of highlighting.
and then i lost it
words can not express how awesome this story is
3263207
Yup!
Old germanic, danish, French, Latin and Saxon (and maybe a few others I missed).
Not in that order I guess.
Have to admit Twi's inner strength, if I were in her hooves, I'd have committed suicide by this point.....
Stay strong, Twi.
OHMYGOSH OHMYGOSH OHMYGOSH IT UPDATED! YES!
Thank you from the bottom of my heart to the top of my spleen!
Well it looks like Twilight has something positive in the long run, being the Princess of Libraries means she's defacto Head Librarian of Equestria.
Where the hell have you been?