• Published 11th Nov 2014
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Me and My Daughters - ArcaneDust



Celestia had always cared for Luna and Twilight as if they were her own daughters, but what happens when they become her daughters for real?

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More dessert, please?

“So… we’re havin’ a party.”

“Not a party, Applejack. It’s more like, um… a lunch date?”

“Lunch? Here? With the Princess?! When the hay were you gonna tell me that?”

Fluttershy smiled nervously at the billowing earth pony. When she arrived at the acres, she promptly found the Crusaders, along with the young royal pair. Now she was tasked with informing Applejack about the upcoming picnic.

“I don’ even know what ta do!” Applejack cried.

“Pinkie said she was taking care of the desserts,” Fluttershy offered.

“And we can help, too! Cutie Mark Crusaders Master Chefs!” With Apple Bloom chiming into their conversation, Applejack had to suppress another annoyed grunt. She loved her sister, but sometimes she could go a little overboard with her friends.

“I… I think it’s better if we let Applejack do the cooking,” Fluttershy said, straining her smile to make up for the choir of sad moans that followed.

“I guess I could whip up somethin’ simple. Ya think the Princess would mind?” Applejack asked, rubbing the back of her mane. She was always open to cook for her friends—occasions like this were common—but she didn’t want to disappoint the Princess by cooking something that wasn’t up to standard.

“Of course she wouldn’t mind!” Fluttershy responded. “And, um… I could always help you in the kitchen—if you need my help, that is.”

“I’d appreciate it, sugarcube,” Applejack said, her thoughts clouding once again as her attention was directed towards the quintet of expectant fillies. Those little bundles of limitless energy could do the unthinkable if left unsupervised, and while most of their plans were harmless, if sometimes crazy, the results weren’t always pleasant.

Applejack couldn’t blame them; she’d gone through that phase when she was a little filly, too. She and Macintosh frequently got in trouble with Granny Smith. They’d grown up of course, but only when they’d been given responsibility. Maybe Apple Bloom needed just that, but what kind of responsibility was the question.

“What are we gonna do, Miss Applejack?” Luna asked, earning a chuckle from the farmer.

“Nah, don’t you ‘Miss’ me, little one. You two are like family, after all,” Applejack laughed as she ruffled the alicorn’s mane. In the hope that they could give her a useful idea, she turned to the remaining fillies and asked, “What do you want to do, girls?”

“Oh, oh! We can cook… clean, eh…We can… I don’t know,” Sweetie trailed off, excitement derailing her train of thought. Both Scootaloo and Twilight face-hoofed. Of the four of them, Sweetie was the most bubbly and enthusiastic, and while it wasn’t exactly a bad thing, sometimes her ideas were a little… short-sighted.

Hearing no more suggestions from the fillies, Fluttershy offered, “You could… decorate? I know that Sunset said it was an informal lunch, but I’m sure she’d love it if you made a little banner.” Applejack nodded her agreement, concealing the slight surprise that came with Fluttershy’s foal-proof idea. There was no possible way the fillies could hurt themselves—or anybody else, for that matter—while decorating paper.

The girls seemed to like the plan, too, as they huddled together in excited whispers, like an impromptu secret meeting. “Okay! What do you want us to do?” Scootaloo spoke up on behalf of the group.

“Do whatever you like,” Applejack answered, “just—”

“Thanks!”

“—nothin’ too big…” Before Applejack could finish, the group of hyperactive fillies bolted towards their clubhouse, leaving dust trails behind. She hoped they had everything they needed there; she didn’t want them snooping around while she and Fluttershy cooked.

“…Maybe we shouldn’t leave them alone like that,” the pegasus commented, worriedly staring at the farm.

“They… they’re growing fillies, ‘Shy. We should give ‘em some freedom,” Applejack said. Yet, she didn’t quite believe her own words. “Besides, what’s the worst they could do?”

“Umm…” Fluttershy mumbled.

“Y’know what, don’t answer that. C’mon, we’ve work to do.”

“Applejack? I found a really nice recipe for a pear salad—do you think they’ll like it?” Fluttershy asked.

“…”

“Appleja—”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Applejack deadpanned.

“Oh.”


“So, he was just sittin’ there?” Applejack asked Princess Celestia.

“Yes.”

“Oh goodness,” Fluttershy said.

“On your throne? Really? What did you do?!” Sunset cried.

“I asked if I needed an appointment to meet ‘His Royal Highness!’” Laughter filled Sweet Apple Acres’ kitchen. The four mares present had forgotten their cooking, lightening up the mood by sharing stories.

After Sunset and Celestia arrived, they decided—ignoring Applejack’s and Granny Smith’s protest—to help out in the kitchen, and though the room wasn’t exactly big, the amicable chit-chat and delicious smells made up for the lack of space. Applejack had to admit, she never imagined cooking alongside a princess while sharing recipes that were older than the town itself.

“I can’t believe Blueblood did something like that,” Sunset said, cutting her share of vegetables with her magic.

“Ha! I do believe it! That stallion is the most self-centered son-of-a—” Applejack stopped, momentarily paused in her stirring of a nearby bowl, and glanced at the Princess. “Uh, nevermind.”

“No, you’re right!” Celestia laughed.

“Oh, he can’t be that bad,” Fluttershy said, waving a hoof. “Um, Princess, when are we supposed to cook the mushrooms?”

Celestia glanced at a clock in the wall, subconsciously removing the tiny apron Applejack had given her. “In about thirty minutes or so. It’s only an accompaniment, after all. Sunset, is the seitan ready?”

The unicorn nodded, adding the final touches into Applejack’s concoction. “I just finished. Now we wait!” Sunset declared triumphantly, proud that for once her cooking didn’t explode.

“Hoooo-wee, this smells amazin’! Princess, where’d ya get this recipe?” Applejack asked, taking a seat beside her pals.

“Hmm… during the peace talks that ended the Griffon-Pony war, about five centuries ago. I have to admit, if it weren’t for this dish, I wouldn’t have signed that treaty.” At the blank stares she received, Celestia let out an awkward laugh. “I’m only joking with you. Don’t worry.”

“Well… it does smell nice, Princess,” Fluttershy commented, changing the subject. “I didn’t know you cooked so well. Not that I’m saying you didn’t know how or that—”

“Oh Fluttershy, it’s alright. Most ponies don’t know this, but cooking used to be one of my hobbies,” Celestia said, wrapping a wing around the flustered pegasus.

“Really?” A tiny part of Applejack still didn’t quite believe how someone of the Princess’s status knew how to cook.

“Yes, I remember how Luna and I would—” Luna…

“Would what?” Applejack asked.

“Would… um, make pancakes for Twilight, hehe.” Stupid, stupid. Different world, different past. Why do I keep forgetting that? she thought, smiling at the clueless mare. In the corner of her eye, Celestia noticed Sunset’s knowing glance subtly signaling for her to come outside.

“Oh, how cute! Does Twilight like to cook, too?” Fluttershy asked, so mesmerized by the sweet scene that she didn’t notice Celestia’s anxiety.

“No, she isn’t quite the do-it-yourself pony, you know…” Sunset answered for Celestia, stepping between Fluttershy and the Princess. “Uh, Princess, do you mind if we talk… outside?” With Celestia nodding hastily, both mares left the room, leaving their friends behind wearing confused frowns.

“Huh…” Applejack mumbled, glaring at the door.

“What is it, Applejack?” Fluttershy asked.

“Well, don’t you think the Princess was acting a bit… weird?” the earth pony replied, something deep inside her tingling at Celestia’s behavior. As the element of honesty, as well as an Apple, nothing escaped the lie-detector wired into her DNA.

“A little, I guess… but it must be stress, right?”

“I suppose… but whatever they’re discussin’ out there must be somethin’ serious.”

“What makes you say that?” Fluttershy asked. She couldn’t bear the thought of her friends, let alone the Princess, going through something difficult.

“I can tell. Didn’t you see the Princess’s expression? Somethin’ big is going on.”

“I hope not…”


Sunset stared intently at the silent figure of Princess Celestia, a somewhat disappointed frown gracing the unicorn’s face. It certainly was impressive how an alicorn’s imposing frame could become so… small, when presented with the right circumstances. As amusing it was seeing her mentor like a little filly fumbling with words, it certainly wasn’t useful for their current situation.

“Sunset,” Celestia said, her brain finally able to articulate something, “I don’t think I can do this.”

As Sunset nuzzled the princess’s neck, she couldn’t help but notice how their roles had reversed throughout this whole affair. Not so long ago, she was the one on the receiving end of Celestia’s comforting touch. “Why not?” she asked, even though she somewhat knew what the alicorn’s answer would be.

“Didn’t you see me? I can’t spend a full minute without somehow remembering everything that’s wrong with me being here!” Celestia replied, barely containing the urge to yell. Feeling powerless wasn’t an emotion she was entirely familiar with, and it was eating her up.

“Maybe… Maybe you could tell them?” Sunset asked tentatively. She knew the mere concept of telling the truth was ridiculous; the repercussions of said scenario were unpredictable at best. Yet, she’d learned to trust more in her friends’ abilities to understand her problems, and this was one of those situations where she thought she could let the magic of friendship work everything out.

“Tell them?! Sure, Sunset, then they’ll think I’m finally going senile!” Celestia exclaimed sarcastically.

“No they wo—wait, can you actually get senile?”

“No! Alicorns are immune to senility!” I hope. “But that’s beside the point, Sunset,” Celestia said, attempting to regain her composure. “I can’t tell them.”

Sunset groaned, cursing the alicorn’s stubbornness. She knew this discussion would be held if she ever brought up the subject of telling the truth, she just didn’t expect Celestia to act this… foalish. Then again, she wasn’t one to talk. “Why not? They’re my friends; I trust them, why don’t you?”

“That’s not—”

“Furthermore,” Sunset continued, interrupting Celestia, “you kind of are a princess. They have to believe what you say!”

Celestia glared unamusedly at her student’s attempt to break their argument. Sadly, she wasn’t in the mood for jokes. Well, at least she hoped Sunset was joking with that remark. “I’m not going to pull rank with them; that’s not how it works.”

“Then trust me on this. I know my friends; they will believe you. Plus, they’ll do everything in their power to help you out.” Sunset’s concerned frown actually made Celestia consider her proposition.

If she trusted Sunset with her life, then why not trust her friends? If Harmony itself chose those five mares to protect Equestria, who was she to argue against it? Something deep inside her wouldn’t allow her to completely rely on Twilight’s—or in this case—Sunset’s friends. Perhaps it was just an irrational fear—the fear of hurting her pride. “I… Sunset, I don’t know…”

Celestia’s uncertainty wasn’t enough for Sunset. She wanted to help, she really did, she just didn’t know how to. Let me help you, Tia, just let me in, Sunset thought desperately, hoping that she was doing the right thing by following her heart. “Celestia, I know this seems difficult for you, but try not to think about my friends. Think of Luna and Twilight.” Sunset understood how wrong it was for her to pull the foals card, but if it was going to help the Princess, it was worth a shot.

“The girls? What do they have to do with—”

“Everything… There’s something I didn’t tell you at the library when you revealed who you really were.” Sunset’s apprehension piqued Celestia’s curiosity. Whatever Sunset was trying to tell her was something beyond important.

Seeing that the Princess had fallen into some kind of expectant silence, Sunset reluctantly continued. “I don’t know why I suddenly feel the need to tell you this, but… well, a week ago, I visited Canterlot, because you requested my presence. I was worried, obviously. I thought something bad had happened; your letters aren’t usually written with such haste. Anyways… we talked—I mean, my Celestia and I talked.”

“About what?”

“About how much the girls needed to know about their father.” Suddenly, the world stopped; it was as if that single sentence had frozen time itself, as if everything but that simple word had lost its meaning. Sunset worriedly pressed herself against Celestia’s larger frame, fearing that she would fall from sheer shock. Surprisingly, the alicorn stood still like a statue, her mind already beyond panic at this point.

Father? Their father? What? I thought… How did I miss… Celestia’s thoughts couldn’t process the implications of the mere idea; multiple scenarios ran through her mind, but none of them made sense. Deep down, basic logic told her that Twilight and Luna must have had a father. It was so obvious, yet, she hadn’t seen that.

Celestia Solaris wasn’t the pure, flawless embodiment of the sun as some of her subjects painted her. No, she wasn’t a virgin; she was a normal mare with her share of experience in the world. She’d had plenty of partners throughout her immortal life, but somehow the thought that she would actually make the decision to start a family with one of them was beyond her comprehension.

Perhaps you are just befuddled by the fact that you, the immortal Princess of Equestria, loved someone enough to bear their children. Reveling in the irony, her conscience chose her niece Cadance’s voice in order to express its contempt. Not such a normal mare now, if you think yourself above such petty things like love.

But she wasn’t above love. In fact, she was under its irrational laws just like anybody else. She loved those ponies so much that the thought of having children—mortal children that would die just like their mortal father—broke her heart. Celestia was just a pony, after all, and the pain of loss affected her just as much as any other, perhaps even more so, given her sheer lifespan.

“Princess…” Sunset said, interrupting the princess’s thoughts. “I… I know how you’re feeling, and—”

“You do not, Sunset Shimmer. You cannot possibly know how this feels,” Celestia whispered, falling on her haunches. The smaller mare cringed at the harshness of Celestia’s voice, yet she sat down beside her, providing as much comfort as she could.

“You’re right, I don’t know how it feels…” Sunset said after a moment of brief hesitation. “But I don’t need to understand to help you out.” Celestia stood unfazed by Sunset’s statement, the alicorn’s multicolor mane covering her face like a little filly’s would. “Let me in, Tia. You don’t have to go through this on your own.”

What a wonderful mare you’ve become, Sunset, Celestia thought, taking a deep breath. She had forgotten how support felt; a thousand years without Luna—her only true friend and confidant—made her forget what trusting someone felt like. Even after her return, she couldn’t help but notice how deep down, some part of their relationship was… broken, as if Nightmare Moon had changed not only Luna, but Celestia as well.

She thought about her other relationships: Cadance, Twilight… She couldn’t help but wonder if she had alienated them as well, keeping the facade of immortal Princess of Equestria on even for those close to her. She wasn’t allowed to fail, she wasn’t allowed to cry, she wasn’t allowed to feel. Celestia had kept her mask on for so long that she needed an interdimensional occurrence to help her realize that she wasn’t alone.

Sunset used her magic to move the strands of Celestia’s mane that obscured her face, amusing the goddess who let out a weak but nonetheless healthy chuckle. Unknowingly, Sunset had taught her more than a thousand years of experience could. As they rose from their position on the ground, Celestia scooped up Sunset in a bear hug, one which the unicorn accepted whole-heartedly. “Thank you, Sunset,” she said, three small words that meant everything for Sunset.

“It’s nothing… I’m just helping out a friend,” Sunset replied, burying her face in Celestia’s warm fur.

Both mares cherished the much-needed embrace, and while they knew everything was far from okay, they had taken a step in the right direction. It was undoubtedly a precious moment, but sadly, those don’t last forever.

“Princess, Sunset! The girls are here, should we—” Applejack called from the farmhouse, until she took notice of the mares’ heartfelt moment. “Am I interrupting?”

“Not at all, Applejack. We were just… having a nice chat,” Sunset replied, fixing her mane.

Raising an eyebrow at her friend’s response, she awkwardly nodded. “Alrighty then…”

Sunset gave Applejack one last reassuring smile before turning once again to the Princess. “Maybe we should go back inside? I’m really looking forward to tasting that stew of yours.”

Celestia sniffled loudly, staring dumbly between Applejack and her student. Despite her runny nose and bloodshot eyes, she composed herself as best she could. “I think that would be nice,” she said meekly, ignoring the earth pony’s piercing gaze.

Both mares quickly turned tail and ran inside the farmhouse, Applejack regarding them with a quizzical smile of her own. “Silly mares,” she said, shaking her head as she followed them back inside. The food was ready, and she wasn’t going to deal with her friends’ antics on an empty stomach.


Inside the farmhouse was a completely different story. Having arrived with Rainbow Dash and Rarity, along with the quintet of fillies who had brought their so-called decorations, Pinkie Pie had declared their little party ready to go. The only thing missing, of course, was the guest of honor herself.

“Why are they taking so long? I’m starving!” Rainbow Dash groaned, begrudgingly arranging dishes and silverware under the watchful eye of a… mildly peeved Fluttershy.

“Rainbow, that’s not very nice!” the yellow pegasus admonished her, placing a large bowl of salad on the table. “And you’re doing it wrong; the forks go on the left.”

“Exactly, and the cutting edges are always facing the plate,” Rarity said, scoffing at the aforementioned pegasus’s eye-roll. “Darling, it’s simple etiquette. You have heard of ‘class’ somewhere, have you not?”

“Of course I have! Class is my middle name,” Rainbow said, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she rearranged the cutlery in their desired positions.

“I thought it was ‘Danger,’” Rarity responded with a smirk.

“Actually, it’s—Oh! Girls, please be careful with those pictures! Applejack would get really mad if you broke them,” Fluttershy said, chiding the little culprits with a half-stern-half-worried stare.

“Sorry Fluttershy!” Twilight apologized, her little wings flapping about as she applied the finishing touches to the banner hung on the ceiling. “And done!”

Her sister tilted her head in thought. “You sure? I think it’d look better a little bit to the left.”

“No, no, to the right, Luna,” Scootaloo interjected from the table.

“Scoots!” Twilight yelled, flustered.

“If you lowered it just a tad…”

“Not you too, Sweetie.”

“…or up a few inches…”

“Really, ‘Bloom?

“We’re just saying what we see, Twi,” Luna said, shrugging her shoulders along with her friends.

“This is the third time I’ve adjusted it,” Twilight complained, flapping down and sitting beside her friends. “If you want to move it again, you go up and do it. I’m tired.”

Luna face-hooved, glaring at her sibling. “I would have, but someone insisted that it had to be ‘perfect.’”

“She got you there, Twi,” Apple Bloom said, laughing at the sibling squabble that was much akin to her own with Applejack.

“I think it looks nice where it is,” Pinkie Pie chimed in, as she walked from the kitchen carrying a tray of cupcakes on her back.

“Thank you, Pinkie… at least someone appreciates my hard work,” Twilight said, smiling proudly.

“It is a bit high, though.”

“Argh!”

“Told you,” Luna said, smirking at her sister’s frustrated groan, while enveloping the banner with her magic. “Now, watch and learn, li’l sis.”

Twilight fixed Luna with a deadpan stare. “I’m older than you.”

Luna shrugged. “Meh.”

Twilight smacked her head on the dining room table. “Why do I bother?”

Passing the fillies, Pinkie Pie responded, “You’re a stickler for perfection?”

“I was being rhetorical!”

Promptly ignoring the filly, Pinkie made her way to the table, where her friends awaited her with various disapproving frowns. “What? I brought dessert!” she exclaimed.

“Weren’t you supposed to watch them?” Rarity asked, not daring to look at Pinkie’s delicious pastries in favor of her recently started diet.

Pinkie Pie shrugged, placing the cupcakes on the table. “I was, but Applejack said that I would take care of dessert.”

“When did you bake those? You were with us the whole time!” Rainbow said. She immediately wondered why she even bothered asking those questions; it was Pinkie Pie, after all.

“I didn’t bake these, silly! I have cupcakes stashed all over Ponyville in case of a cupcake emergency,” Pinkie replied, as if invading public space with random pastries was completely normal.

“A-are those fresh?” Rarity asked, apprehensively staring at the potentially delicious confections.

Pinkie rolled her eyes as she took a bite of the nearest cupcake to prove the guaranteed tastiness of her desserts to the faithless fashionista. “Duh! I haven’t baked a single bad cake since Applejack’s ‘Baked Bads’ incident. And that wasn’t really my fault.”

“Rub it in, why don’t ya?” Applejack grumbled, suddenly entering the room as she glared at her fellow earth pony, who simply smiled in response. Sunset and Princess Celestia walked in behind her.

“About time! What took you so long?” Rainbow Dash asked.

Two little fillies screeched, “Mom!” in unison, propelling themselves forward with their little wings to tackle their acquired target.

The sadness leaving her eyes, Celestia enveloped the fillies in her yellow aura and brought them close, covering them with her wings in a trademark alicorn hug.

“How are my little fillies doing? Did you have fun?” the larger alicorn asked, releasing her bone-crushing embrace just a little to allow her daughters some oxygen.

“Uh-huh, we made that banner, see?! Isn’t it pretty?!” Luna exclaimed, pointing at the piece of cloth hanging above them. Their crude, yet cute drawings warmed Celestia’s heart.

“I tried to make it a golden rectangle, but somepony wouldn’t let me,” Twilight said, directing an accusatory glare at her sister.

Luna rolled her eyes, annoyed at Twilight’s stubbornness. She was really bothersome with anything math-related. “It looked bad, Twilight, admit it!”

“It did not! I used the golden ratio; it would have been perfect!” Twilight yelled, outraged that someone would actually try defying math.

“Girls,” Celestia reproached them, looking between the two fillies, “don’t fight over silly things. Your banner looks beautiful either way.” Some small part of her protested at how easily she adopted her role in this situation, but by now it wasn’t surprising how little discomfort she felt at being referred to as ‘mother’ by the pair of little alicorns. Perhaps Celestia was finally letting her guard down, playing along with the stream of warm and soothing feelings in her heart.

“Your mom’s right, girls. You shouldn’t let silly things like this get between you, at least not before lunch!” Pinkie Pie said, ruffling the fillies’ manes from behind.

“Pinkie!” Luna exclaimed. “Where did you come from? I saw you go into the kitchen just a second ago!”

The mare rolled her eyes and pointed a hoof at the aforementioned room. “I did, but Rarity insisted she would carry the stew. She probably has some fancy-pantsy way to serve it.”

As if on cue, a braiser covered in a light blue glow maneuvered towards the table, followed closely behind by Rarity and Fluttershy. “The stew is ready!” the unicorn called, setting the pot down in the middle of the table.

“Thank Celestia! I’m starving!” Rainbow Dash cried, taking a seat in the nearest chair. When she noticed the Princess’s amused gaze in her direction, she said, “Uh… sorry, Princess. It’s just an expression.”

“Rainbow Dash, please, where are your manners?” Rarity said, sighing at her friend’s bluntness.

“At the end of my bowl, now gimmie!”

Rarity glowered at her and responded, “And for that, you’ll be served last. Can everyone pass me their plates, please?” Rainbow Dash crossed her hooves with a huff.

“By the way, where are Granny Smith and Big Macintosh? Won’t they be joining us?” Celestia asked, noticing the lack of a blush on a certain yellow unicorn’s face.

“Well, Granny is playin’ bridge with some of ‘er friends, and Mac… Mac told me he had a date.” Applejack responded, not quite believing her own words. The fact that Big Macintosh, the quietest stallion in town, had a date, still escaped her comprehension.

“A date?” Fluttershy asked, hoping none of the present company would notice the sudden red tint in her cheeks.

Applejack nodded. “Yup, it was quite a big deal. I haven’t seen him so nervous since… Hmm, now that I think about it, I ain’t ever seen him that nervous!”

“Did he say with whom?” Rarity questioned, berating herself for not being up to date with Ponyville’s latest gossips. It was her duty for the town!

“He wouldn’t tell,” Applejack said, directing a disapproving glare towards the eager mare.

“Drat!” Rarity exclaimed. Turning to her friends, she let out a nervous laugh. “Anyways… Is everybody served? Yes? Bon appetit!

“Gesundheit,” Rainbow Dash said, pointedly ignoring the unicorn’s glare.

As Rarity finally served Rainbow Dash her bowl of stew, Luna looked up from her own bowl, loudly chewing with her mouth open. “Wow! Thish ish amazing!”

“Luna, do not talk with your mouth full,” Celestia reprimanded her, hiding the grin forming on her face at such typical ‘Luna’ behavior.

Luna gulped down her food before she continued. “Sorry, Mom, but this is delicious! The chefs at the castle aren’t nearly this good. Apple cooking is awesome!” she exclaimed, her sister nodding in agreement.

Laughing, Applejack shook her head. “It’s nice for you to say that, but it was your mom who gave us that recipe.”

“Really?” Twilight said, wide-eyed, mirroring the expressions of her fellow fillies.

“I didn’t know princesses could cook! Rarity, all your stories are wrong!” Sweetie Belle cried indignantly, as Rarity turned a nice shade of red in embarrassment.

“But, for real—Mom, you cooked this?” Twilight asked, cocking her head to the side, clearly confused. “How come you never cook for us?”

Celestia looked awkwardly at the accusing filly, sweat starting to form on her brow as the group of mares stared confusedly between the flustered alicorn and the fillies in question.

“But she said she’s cooked you pancakes,” Fluttershy commented, looking between the pair of fillies and the Princess, her brow furrowed in thought.

“What? No she—Ow! Twilight, you kicked me!” Luna cried.

“Did not!” Twilight protested as she looked under the table. “It was Sunset!” she gasped, glaring daggers at the amber mare.

“Me? Twilight, you must be confused; whatever would I kick you for?” Sunset casually said, wondering how she managed better acting skills than a thousand-year-old alicorn.

Luna, still unconvinced, directed her best ‘princessly stare’ towards the unicorn. “Then who did it?”

“Um… Dash?” Sunset said. She mentally face-hoofed when she remembered that the pegasus in question was at the far end of the table. All this stalling was useless; eventually they would need to tell the truth. There was no point in continuing to lie like this, especially to their friends.

“What? I’m all the way over here! What makes you think you could possibly pull off pinning that on me?!” Dash yelled, annoyed at her friend’s evasiveness.

“Yes dear, what’s going on? You wouldn’t happen to be hiding something, would you?” Rarity asked, confirming her suspicions about Sunset’s and the Princess’s bizarre behavior. There was most definitely something important going on.

Celestia directed a desperate glance in Sunset’s direction; it was clear to the unicorn that the Princess was lost for words, and it was her job as her student—and as her friend—to help her out of this sticky situation. “I’ll… Uh… After dessert, please. I’ll tell you everything you want to know, but after dessert. Is that alright?” Sunset asked, her ears laid back as she worriedly analyzed her friends’ expressions shifting from anger and confusion to worry and concern.

“That’s fine by me, y’all. I trust ‘em,” Applejack said with a smile. “B’sides, the food is far too good to let spoil.”

“Definitely,” Rainbow Dash responded, scooping up another mouthful of stew.

“Alright then, but you are not leaving without giving us a straight answer. And no ‘Big Mac’ answers like ‘Nnnope’,” Rarity said in her best drawl, earning a round of well-deserved chuckles.

The Princess sighed with relief. Hoping Sunset wouldn’t mind her making a remark at her expense, Celestia said, “I’m sure Sunset wouldn’t say ‘nnnope’ to Big Mac.” A spit-take from Rainbow and a fit of laughter cleared the mood at the table.

“Haha… Good one, Princess.” Sunset’s face burned bright red. You owe me big time, Celestia.

Author's Note:

Ta da!
We did it, guys! We made it! It's finally done
I'm sorry for the long wait, I hope it's worth it :heart:
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