Bivalent Connections

by equestrian.sen

3. Diplomats

A light breeze whispered through the open balcony doors of Twilight's Canterlot suite, carrying the scent of night-blooming jasmine. The day's formalities were finally over—the speeches given, the diplomats greeted, the royal duties fulfilled. Sunset Shimmer gazed out at the star-filled sky, the constellations of her homeland both familiar and strange after so much time away.

"You always look at the stars like you're searching for something," Twilight said softly, joining her on the balcony. She didn't ask if Sunset wanted company; they were long past such formalities.

Sunset smiled, not turning from the view. "Old habit, I guess. Celestia taught me to find my way by them." After a moment, she added more quietly, "Sometimes I still need the reminder that I'm home."

Twilight didn't respond with words. Instead, she simply moved closer until their sides touched, a warm presence in the cool night air. Her wing extended naturally, draping over Sunset's back like a living blanket. Neither of them commented on it—the gesture as natural as breathing.

"The delegation from Yakyakistan kept looking at your mane today," Twilight said after a comfortable silence. "I think they were trying to figure out if it was actually made of fire."

Sunset laughed, the sound soft in the night air. "And what did you tell them?"

"That they'd have to ask you themselves." Twilight's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Though I did mention you've been known to be quite hot-headed."

"You didn't!" Sunset bumped her shoulder playfully against Twilight's, then settled back closer than before. Her horn glowed faintly with affection, an unconscious reaction she no longer tried to hide.

"Your horn's glowing again," Twilight murmured, echoing her thought with that uncanny way she sometimes had of knowing exactly what was in Sunset's mind.

"So is yours," Sunset replied, feeling the familiar resonance of Twilight's magic harmonizing with her own. It happened naturally when they were together like this, their magical signatures falling into sync like two hearts beating in time.

They fell silent again, watching a shooting star arc across the sky. There was no need to fill the space with words. In the quiet, Sunset felt herself unwinding, layers of careful composure falling away like shed armor. The Sunset who stood in diplomatic meetings with perfect posture and carefully chosen words gave way to just... Sunset. The one who sometimes still doubted, who sometimes still feared, who still carried scars from her past mistakes.

"I nearly lost my temper with that griffon ambassador today," she admitted after a while, the confession coming easily in the safety of Twilight's presence. Anyone else would have received a polished half-truth, but here, honesty flowed as naturally as their mingled magic.

Twilight's wing tightened slightly around her back. "I noticed. You handled it well."

"I wanted to tell him exactly where he could stick his 'concerns' about former villains in positions of authority."

"I would have paid good bits to see that," Twilight said with a soft laugh. She turned slightly, meeting Sunset's eyes directly. "You know, it's still okay to be angry sometimes. Being whole doesn't mean being perfect."

The simple understanding in those words loosened something in Sunset's chest. She leaned her head against Twilight's shoulder, their manes mingling, sunset orange against midnight purple. Neither spoke as the stars wheeled slowly overhead, their magic still humming in quiet harmony.

This, Sunset thought, was what it meant to be truly known, truly understood. To be able to share not just your strengths but your uncertainties, to trust someone with both your composure and your chaos. To know that every part of you—the polished diplomat and the reformed troublemaker, the confident advisor and the occasional doubter—was not just accepted but cherished.