Discovery

“Soooo...?” Twilight’s eyes gleamed expectantly. “What do you think?”

On the other side of the table, Rarity returned her teacup to its saucer and met her hostess’ nervously hopeful smile with one of her own. “Oh, Twilight, dear, I think it’s wonderful,” she said with sincerity.

“You do?” The purple unicorn’s delight leaped up several notches, her anticipation rapidly giving way to the satisfaction of a job well done. “Oh, I’m so happy you think so! All this time I was worried you’d think it was awful and... uncouth, or something.”

Rarity slowly extended a hoof and laid it atop Twilight’s, to the latter’s mild surprise. “I could never think that,” she declared. “And I’m sure our friends will all agree with me. We’ve all been worried about you, you know. We haven’t seen you in weeks.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Twilight said, her gaze and hoof shying away. “I’ve been so busy with all these advanced assignments the princess has been sending, I’ve just been cooped up here in the library the whole time. I really haven’t had time to go out. It was the princess herself who insisted that I take a break.” She looked back to her guest apologetically. “And she’s completely right. My studies may be important, but they shouldn’t come at the expense of my friends. That’s why I’m planning to invite everypony over on Friday to catch up. And this–” She indicated downward with her hoof. “–was going to be a surprise. I just really wanted somepony’s opinion first, and since your expectations are always so high...”

Twilight stopped suddenly, and her eyes went wide on realising what she had just implied. “Uh... But in a good way! You have high standards, and that’s a good thing!” She dug out the friendliest grin she could, hoping she hadn’t managed to insult her guest. Rarity, thankfully, gave no sign of a negative reaction. She was, in fact, still smiling gently. Calming down, Twilight continued, “Anyway, the reason I invited you over is because I really, really wanted to get your opinion first. But if you like it, I’m sure the others will, too!”

“I’m sure they will,” Rarity affirmed. “Pinkie will probably want to host the shower,” she stated thoughtfully, her smile gaining force, “Though I strongly suggest you pick a date before she does. I know that neither of us really care for that whole ‘surprise’ business she is so fond of, and it may even be unhealthy for a mare in your condition. A formal guest list and invitations with an R.S.V.P. date are the order for this kind of celebration. Oh, and a gift registry!” The unicorn’s eyes were sparkling with giddiness, and she clasped her hooves together. “I know this darling little store that will have almost everything you’ll need. I could certainly help with getting everything set up, if that’s alright with you. We wouldn’t want a repeat of what happened with Pinkie and the Cakes, now would we?” Rarity took another sip of tea, seemingly to douse her own enthusiasm, and waited for an answer.

Twilight, however, had not yet processed the question. Her mind had derailed much earlier, ceasing its progress utterly. She stared, confused, at Rarity. “The... shower?”

“Well, yes, it is customary.” The white pony’s exuberant demeanor began to melt away to concern. “If you’re worried about the reactions from the rest of Ponyville, you can certainly restrict the guest list to our closest friends. Make it a more quiet, intimate affair. I must say that I prefer those myself.”

Despite Twilight’s best efforts at untangling the knot presented to her, none of what she was hearing was making any sense. “Rarity, what are you talking about?”

A look of veneered terror crossed the other unicorn’s countenance. Twilight was by no means an expert on reading ponies – it was, in fact, one of her weaknesses – but this expression was one she had seen before and could now positively identify: It was a sign that Rarity had just caught herself in a faux pas.

“Uh, I was... talking about...” the white pony spoke through an unconvincingly brilliant grin, “...uh... the... topic at hoof. We were both talking about it. Though... perhaps you should reiterate precisely what we’re talking about, just so that we may be certain?” She chuckled, quickly grabbed her cup, and slurped slowly from it, undeterred by the fact that – as Twilight had noticed a moment before – it was already empty.

“Rarity, I was asking you if you liked the tea.”

“Oh.” The mare stared at the empty vessel in her grip. “Oh... Oh! The tea. Of course!” Levitating the teapot, she refilled. “Of course I like it! It’s very good tea. Fantastic, in fact. Are you trying out a new brewing method?”

Twilight sighed dejectedly, lowering her head nearly to the table. “You didn’t even notice.”

Rarity was growing manifestly more uncomfortable by the moment. “Notice? O– of course I noticed!” she claimed, delivering another fake laugh as followup.

Twilight didn’t buy the act for a second.

Rarity’s smile could no longer take the strain and collapsed. With her supply of fake charm exhausted, she was forced to ask guiltily, “So, please tell me... what, exactly, did I notice?”

The purple pony pointed to the teapot. “This tea is a special blend. I made it myself. It was an experiment to see if I could combine some of my favourite flavours into a new mix. I researched all the known varieties and thought I could come up with a truly unique taste. I...” Her hoof idly circled along the grain of the table. “I was going to give some as a gift to Princess Celestia.” She examined the teapot, hoping it might somehow give up an explanation of her failure. When it didn’t, she snorted dismissively at it. “I guess that didn’t turn out so well.”

Rarity took another sip, making a show of properly tasting it this time. “Twilight, it’s... it’s good tea. Believe me. The tea you make is always splendid, and I suppose I’ve started taking it for granted.” She straightened herself out, lifting her chin. “I apologise. And I’m certain the princess will appreciate the gift.”

“Can you even tell what’s in it?”

The mare’s earlier nervousness made a rapid comeback. “Well, I... I do enjoy a good cup of tea, but I’m hardly what one would call a connoisseuse, and I’m not completely familiar with all the subtle varieties.” She sniffed daintily at the liquid, and brought it to her lips once again. “Hmm. This is Assam, is it not?”

Twilight frowned. “I did use Camellia sinensis assamica as the base, but there’s also Keemun and... and there are supposed be hints of Jasmine. And I went to Zecora to get this special herb I can’t even pronounce properly, and... and...” She sighed again and closed her eyes. Vapours emanating from her own cup teased her nostrils with warmth, but the mixture of aromas she had painstakingly worked to arrange into an agreeable balance now stunk only of wasted effort. “The princess suggested I should do something that I liked that didn’t involve magic...”

Slow, deep breaths. Twilight focussed herself on the technique; a way to soothe her nerves. Chiefly a method to dismiss worry and panic, it was presently proving itself just as effective at expelling her disappointment.

Slowly, her eyes opened, lips curling upward in a bittersweet acceptance of the situation. She gave a weak chuckle. “Guess I’m just not cut out to be a teamaster,” she stated, taking a small drink to remind herself of what her endeavour had wrought. It still tasted okay, if a bit uninspired. Pedestrian. “It’s okay, though. Nopony can be an expert at everything, right?”

Rarity nodded, visibly relaxing with her hostess’ return to good spirits. “Twilight, it is good. You should definitely send some to Princess Celestia. Her opinion is ultimately the one that counts, and I’m absolutely convinced a pony of her expert palate will be able to appreciate it more than I. This blend might not shake the tea world to its very foundations, but it’s far from a failure.”

Twilight glanced to her friend, and a simple look in her eyes confirmed that she wasn’t just trying to be placating; her compliments were genuine. “Thanks,” the purple mare said, back to her previous cheer. “If nothing else, I did enjoy myself, and I fulfilled the princess’ request to ‘get creative’, as she put it.”

Rarity giggled, and her friend followed suit. Both partook of the good-but-not-quite-great beverage, and in that moment Twilight recognised – or perhaps simply remembered – that the best of teas could never make up for the presence of good company. She could barely wait for Friday.

Still, a thought niggled at the back of her head. “Rarity,” she drew the other unicorn’s attention, “What were you talking about earlier? About some kind of shower?”

“Oh, um, it was nothing.”

Out of all of Twilight’s friends, Rarity came second only to Applejack in being thoroughly horrible at fibbing.

“Rarity...”

“I... I was just confused. I don’t know what I was thinking. Let’s just forget it, shall we?”

Twilight almost relented then – almost – but her guest’s evasiveness was a puzzle that was simply too intriguing for the scholarly mare to abandon. She cycled through everything she had heard, once more attempting to place the confusing bits into coherence.

Rarity had mentioned the Cakes, and Pinkie, and a gift registry... for a shower.

“A... a baby shower?” the purple pony hazarded, and the way Rarity’s pupils shrank told her instantly that she was correct. This, however, just added another oddly-shaped piece of jigsaw to her collection. “I don’t get it. Who’s having a baby? Is it somepony I know?”

The other mare’s eyes looked in every direction but hers. “Oh, dear, look at the time! I’m terribly sorry, but I really must be going! I have to... help... Sweetie Belle... get her cutie mark in... tea-making! Thank you ever so much for having me; we simply must do this more often! I’ll see you on Friday, and I’ll let our friends know–”

“Rarity!”

The sound of her own name forced the unicorn back into her seat. Despite the cool temperature of the library, she was unmistakably sweating.

Twilight thinned her lips and lowered her brows, hoping to look sufficiently authoritative and just intimidating enough to pull the truth out of her visitor-turned-suspect. “Rarity, we’re friends. Good friends. And it seems there’s something you know, that I, as your good friend, deserve to know as well. If you’re keeping a secret for somepony else, then I won’t force it out of you, but you should consider that keeping secrets for some silly reason, like, say, to save yourself or myself some embarrassment, can only be bad for our friendship. I hope you can respect me enough to be honest with me, and I promise that whatever you tell me, I will handle the information calmly, rationally, and discreetly.” She smirked. For something made up completely on the spot, it sounded pretty convincing.

The white mare faced sheepishly downward, keeping a tenuous visual contact with her interrogator.

“Who’s having a baby?” Twilight prodded.

Rarity said nothing. In a nearly imperceptible stroke of time, her pupils flitted downward to the other mare’s abdomen, before returning, as if nothing had happened, to looking her in the face.

Rarity had mentioned something about Twilight’s ‘condition’...

“M– Me?!” Twilight’s head cocked to the left. “You think I’m having a baby?!”

“No!”

“But you did!”

Her now-very-unwilling guest bit her lip, apparently having decided that uncomfortable silence was preferable to further self-incrimination. Twilight wasn’t even sure if she should be angry. Mostly, she was simply confused.

“Rarity, I’m not pregnant.”

The unicorn spoke hesitantly, “I– I gathered as much.” Her eyes turned pleading, shimmering with liquid. “Twilight, I’m so very, very sorry. I should never have assumed something like this. It was simply awful of me. You are one of my best friends and you deserve better. I don’t know what I was thinking. Can you ever forgive me?” She clasped her hooves together, pursing her lips pathetically and stretching herself forward onto the table in supplication, a hair’s breadth away from bursting into dramatic tears.

The purple mare still didn’t know quite what to make of all this, the mystery having not so much dissipated as changed shape – though the apology had seemed real enough. She sighed. “It’s okay, Rarity,” she offered, and watched as the other pony slunk back into her seat. “I forgive you...” Then a sudden, brilliant idea struck. “...if you explain to me why you thought that I was having a baby.”

Rarity gulped.

“And no lies this time. If we’re really friends then I deserve the truth. Has somepony been spreading rumours about me?”

“N– no...”

Twilight’s stare was a drill, and Rarity flinched as it pierced her.

“It’s just that you’ve barely been seen around town the past few weeks, and someponies – and I can’t say who – may have noted that you’ve... um...” Rarity’s hoof dug nervously against the back of her neck. “...how do I put this delicately? Twilight, dear... you seem to have gained some... mass.”

The purple pony’s eyes bugged. Slowly, her sight moved downward to her stomach, where she assessed the prominent bulge that, over the past couple of months, she had only in passing perceived growing larger. Weeks upon weeks of sedentary study combined with an unrestricted diet could do that to a pony, and Twilight had never been particularly concerned with her physical image. She didn’t even own a personal scale; the closest thing she had being a small balance in her downstairs laboratory used for measuring chemical samples. Rarity could, at times, be overly-concerned about appearances, but if she seriously thought that she was pregnant, of all things...

With a slow, calming exhale, Twilight made a mental note to start exercising and cut back on sweets immediately.

“Rarity, I’m not pregnant.”

“I know. I’m sorry. When I heard about you, I wasn’t certain, of course, and I decided to reserve judgement. But then today I saw you, and our conversation led me to believe– well, now I understand you were merely talking about the tea, but the way you spoke of making an ‘addition to the world’ and how thrilled you seemed to be... I drew my conclusions. Unfounded ones.”

So that was it, then. A larger-than-normal belly, and an unclear conversation, had convinced somepony that Twilight was expecting. The mystery was solved.

She stared.

Then she smiled.

Then she chuckled.

Finally, she laughed.

The ludicrousness of the situation was simply too much for her, and she let loose, howls of laughter racking the mare from head to hoof. Her guest made an attempt to join in the mirth, but was having a harder time of it.

“Oh, lighten up, Rarity!” Twilight decreed once the worst of her guffaws had faded. “This is the funniest thing that’s happened to me since that whole thing with Miss Harshwhinny, and at least the reputation of an empire isn’t at stake this time.”

“So, you’re not offended, then?”

Twilight considered with a smirk. “Well, maybe a little. But I already said I forgive you, and I meant it.” With a wave of her foreleg, she dismissed any discord that might have accumulated between the pair. “And it’s mostly my fault, anyway. I need to communicate more clearly. I’m a scientist, for Celestia’s sake! When somepony can’t tell whether I’m talking about tea or a baby, something’s wrong.” She giggled some more. Her hoof patted at her protruding belly. “And I guess I did let myself go a little...”

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” Rarity tried. “You look fine. Very... healthy...”

Twilight could only roll her eyes. Her magic summoned a full-length mirror into the room, and she stepped away from the table to examine herself. Head-on, she didn’t look much different than usual – perhaps a bit fuller in the cheeks, but hardly pudgy. Turning to the side, however, revealed that her abdomen was, indeed, worryingly larger than she remembered it. She frowned in disapproval at the reflection.

“I’m going to talk to Rainbow about starting up that training regimen again. This really is too much. I think Spike even mentioned something about how I’ve been eating a lot lately, but I was too busy to listen.” She sat back down, pouring herself another cup of tea, which had at this point become tepid. Remembering her manners, she offered the same to Rarity, who graciously accepted with a still-uncertain smile.

“It’s strange though. Usually when I get into ‘the zone’–” Twilight airquoted. “–I forget to eat. In fact, I forget everything except the book I’m working on. But lately I’ve been feeling extra-hungry, so I’ve been snacking constantly. Weird cravings, too. Just last week I sent Spike out for strawberry ice cream and deep-fried tulips and ate them at the same time. Weird, huh?”

Rarity blinked.

Twilight’s brain very helpfully replayed what she had just said. That only made the situation funnier, and she chuckled again.

“Rarity, I’m not pregnant.”

The white pony snapped out of her brief stupor. “Oh, of course not! You’re certainly the most qualified to be the judge of something like that. And I take it you have been going into heat as normal this summer, have you not? That would certainly put any doubts to rest.”

The other unicorn shook her head. “Not really. My cycle’s always been a bit irregular, though, so I’m not worried.” She scratched thoughtfully at her chin. “But now that you mention it, I can’t really remember the last time I was in estrus. I think it was back in... May?”

That was a long time ago.

All of summer had gone by without the typical nature’s call. Twilight was a young mare, after all, and, irregular cycles or not, spending the warmest season mired in full-time anestrus couldn’t be the sign of anything good. The first twinge of worry entered her mind. The idea of pregnancy still seemed unlikely to the unicorn, but she now began to entertain the thought that some other medical condition might have set itself upon her.

Twilight was a voracious reader, though aside from studies in magic specifically, her other research was very much scattered, with bits and pieces and odd minutiae of knowledge from various fields presently filed away in dusty corners of her memory. One of those fields was medicine.

She thought of her distended belly, rubbing it absent-mindedly, and tried to pull out statistics on the occurrence of tumors. She could remember nothing, aside from the alarming facts that the chances of having one were always non-zero, and that increased appetite was often a symptom. So were hormonal imbalances that might effectively halt a mature mare’s reproductive cycle.

Tumors could also be benign or malignant. The benign ones would simply grow and take up space in the body, and procedures existed to excise them. Malignant tumors, however, would metastasise – spread, and infect vital organs, consuming the body from the inside-out. And even after being removed, new ones could, and often did, sprout up, like a swarm of carnivorous parasprites. It was thoroughly horrible.

“Twilight, are you alright?”

The sound of Rarity’s concerned voice brought the purple mare back into the here and now. She did her best to smile again; to reassure her friend.

To reassure herself.

“Rarity, I’m not pregnant.”

‘I’m also not sick,’ she silently added.

Imagining the worst always brought out the worst in Twilight – she had multiple examples in her life to point to as evidence. The unicorn resolved to take a positive outlook: Her earlier conclusion – that she had simply been eating too much – was by a wide margin the simplest explanation. Occolt’s Razor stated that, as a scientist, it was the one she should prefer.

Still, a routine medical checkup wouldn’t be a bad idea.

“Alright,” her guest responded carefully after a moment’s hesitation. “You’re sure of that?”

“Of course I’m sure,” Twilight replied confidently. “I can’t have a child. I’m not married. I don’t even have a boyfriend.”

Rarity winced, treading carefully with her words. “You... do realise that it’s not strictly required for you be in a stable relationship...? Getting pregnant simply involves... well, a stallion who... uh...”

“Rarity!” Twilight whined. “I’m not that sheltered! I’m well-aware of the biological requirements for equine impregnation.”

“Right. So, then, you haven’t been... active... with any stallions this past season?”

“Well...” A sudden chill ran down the purple unicorn’s spine. Without any thought, her head turned toward the staircase that connected to the upper floor of the library.

To her bedroom.

To her bed.

A flood of memories rushed in. Memories of what she had done in that bed, and with whom. She felt something stick in her throat; a lump of pure dread. ‘No. No, no, no, no, no, no. That couldn’t happen. Not with him. I can’t have a baby with him.’

She swallowed the lump, and forced another smile. It proved to be a far more daunting task this time around. When she finally succeeded, it was a desperate, fragile thing, ready to shatter at any instant, and was obviously doing little to convince the increasingly-worried unicorn observing her.

“Rarity, I’m not pregnant.”

The other mare nodded slowly. “Then you haven’t...”

“Yes, I had sex!” Twilight blurted, placing both forehooves on the table. “With a stallion!”

Rarity retreated slightly.“But... not during your fertile period?”

Twilight’s lip quivered. “It... it was during my estrus phase,” she confessed, as an uncertain hoof rubbed into the coat of her belly, until she forcibly commanded it back down. “But it doesn’t matter because I can’t be pregnant.”

The white mare raised an eyebrow. “How can you be certain–”

“I used a spell!” Twilight declared. “A contraception spell. I even did the research, and it’s the most recommended form of magical birth control available. It’s completely effective and completely foolproof, and yes, I’m absolutely sure I cast it properly! I’m not irresponsible!” She lowered back into her seat. For some reason her forelegs were shaking and keeping weight on them was making the teacups rattle in their saucers.

Rarity sat contemplatively, staring off into the surrounding bookshelves. At length, she spoke again, measuring her syllables. “This spell – you say it’s completely effective?”

Twilight’s tea had gone cold. She didn’t care, downing the rest of her cup and humphing in irritation upon finding the pot empty. “Well, it’s very well-documented and proven to be extremely reliable in laboratory conditions,” she explained. “Properly cast, it’s ninety-nine point nine nine percent effective.”

“I... see.”

“Rarity, I’m not pregnant.”

There was no smile; she could no longer summon up the energy or goodwill for one. Again, her hoof found her abdomen, feeling about for... something. It seemed to be acting with a mind of its own recently, and in a moment of annoyance Twilight considered smacking the unruly limb away.

Rarity cleared her throat. Her nervousness had experienced a distinct shift in tone: Rather than being concerned about herself, she was showing unmistakable signs of worry for Twilight. Ironically, this was only making the purple unicorn more antsy.

“Have you had any other symptoms? Have you felt... kicking?”

“No!” The other pony paused. “Maybe. I don’t know! What does that even feel like?!”

“I’m afraid I don’t have any first-hoof experience, but from what I’ve been told it can feel like a... a ‘fluttering’ sensation. I’ve also heard it described as muscle twitches. Have you felt anything like that?”

Something had fallen into Twilight’s eyes – or, at least, that was what she concluded, based on the fact that her vision had become irritatingly wobbly. “I... I don’t know. I might... maybe I think I had some indigestion a little while ago... but that would make sense because I’ve been eating so much and so many weird things because of my weird cravings which is why I’ve gained all this weight and it’s definitely not because I’m pregnant because there’s no way I’d ever be irresponsible enough to have a child without two parents to take care of it and I’m not ready to have children anyway so when I had unprotected vaginal intercourse right in the middle of my estrus phase I used a very reliable spell that works... almost... perfectly...”

She coughed, finding herself suddenly choking on some kind of salty liquid that had materialised in her throat.

“Rarity, I’m not pregnant.”

It was no longer a statement of fact.

It was a hoarse plea.

The other mare guardedly inched out of her seat. “Twilight, darling, please understand: I’m not saying that you’re pregnant. But, perhaps it would be best if we had you examined, medically? Just to put any fears to rest? I’m sure it would be a good idea regardless and...” Her eyes locked on Twilight as she gingerly circled around to her fidgeting friend. “And I just want to assure you, if, by some chance, you are pregnant, all your friends will support–”

“No!” Twilight bellowed, abandoning her seat, setting upon Rarity, and grabbing the frightened mare by the cheeks. “I don’t need anypony’s support! Didn’t you hear what I just said?! I can’t be pregnant! I used the spell! The odds of it failing are less than one in ten thousand! I mean...” She panted through gritted teeth. “What are the chances of that?!”

“Well, um...”

“Don’t answer that!”

She released the white unicorn from her grip, the tiny hesitation from Rarity providing enough time for Twilight to formulate her next course of action. She all-but-lunged at the bookshelves, avoiding teleporting to them only because charging up and engaging the relevant spell would have taken a few hundredths of a second longer than simply hoofing it. As her legs covered the precious few steps, the shocks they sent up her body served as a harsh reminder of the unwelcome, extra weight clinging to her.

She started ripping tomes from their assigned positions, glancing occasionally at the titles, but more often than not, simply determining by shape or weight alone that they weren’t her quarry, and dumping them unceremoniously behind her. As the pile of discarded books grew, she silently cursed Spike for having the sheer gall to have a life outside the library and not be at her beck and call in this moment of need.

A timid Rarity approached. “Twilight, maybe we should go see a doctor. I don’t think that–”

“A-ha!” The unicorn grinned as she levitated her prize in victory. Wasting no time, she skimmed through pages of text, taking in dozens every second, looking for one specific, particularly fascinating spell she had once seen long, long ago.

If pressed, it was likely that she could have performed it solely from memory – memorising and retaining magical techniques was something the unicorn excelled at – but it was vital that the spell be cast without any errors or alterations. She couldn’t risk generating a false positive.

Confirming the formula thrice, just to be certain, she nodded in satisfaction. Her horn’s aura activated, and the spell took its intended effect.

To Rarity, it seemed that Twilight had stopped breathing.

To Twilight, it seemed that the world had stopped. Entirely.

That wasn’t, strictly speaking, a result of the spell. The universe fell away only in Twilight’s subjective perception; the result of the truth, now no longer deniable through even the most convoluted reasoning, crashing into her like a tidal wave, and leaving her stunned and floating in a watery abyss, unable to see or breathe or even think.

She could still hear, however – and what she heard absolutely terrified her. Her only remaining shred of hope was that this was all a dream. She willed herself to wake, but to no avail.

“Twilight!” Rarity yelled as she physically jolted the purple mare back to reality, the library, and much-needed oxygen. “What happened?! What spell did you use just now?”

Her friend’s entire frame was trembling uncontrollably. “Heartsong,” she replied, breathing the word more than actually speaking it.

“I– I’m afraid I’m not familiar with that one.”

Tears rolled down Twilight’s cheeks, forming thin rivulets. Her voice cracked. “It’s... it’s a spell that allows you to hear a pony’s heartbeat. I just cast it on myself. And I can hear it... there’s– there’s my heart; but there’s also– it’s–”

She was still shaking as Rarity’s forelegs wrapped around her – holding her, absorbing some of the tremors.

“There’s another pony inside me.”

Rarity said nothing. She simply held the embrace – tightly, tenderly, genuinely – until the quakes rolling through Twilight’s body could subside at least a little, and she could find the strength to face her friend and speak again.

“Rarity, I’m pregnant.”

Decision

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If Twilight had to pick a single word to describe Celestia’s personal chamber, hidden deep within the labyrinthine halls of Canterlot Castle, that word would be “soothing”. The space was simple, and sparsely decorated. Absent were tables, desk, chairs, and even a proper bed. The walls were a mural of a calm sky just after sunset; deep blues and purples moving into lighter tones in the western corner of the room. That last detail was, incidentally, how Twilight knew the scene represented the end of the day, and not its beginning – as some of the few ponies fortunate enough to see the inside of the Princess’ private sanctum would often erroneously conclude.

There were serene mountains of indigo clouds painted on those walls, and a shooting star just over the fireplace, where gently playful flames of red and orange danced in the near-total silence. In front of the fire, a large reniform floor cushion, luxuriously soft, silken, and violet with golden trim, served as the diarch’s ultimate retreat from the expectations and responsibilities of rule.

This was a room where work – or at least mandatory work – ceased, and where personal interests and unmarred relaxation held reign.

Twilight had been here often enough to be intimately familiar with the surroundings; a state of affairs that was, in itself, a great honour. Celestia permitted only a select group of ponies to even dare approach the door, a far smaller number to enter the space, and, to Twilight’s knowledge, only four had ever been allowed to feel the heavenly plush of the cushion: Celestia herself, her sister Luna, her adopted niece Cadance...

...and her faithful student, Twilight Sparkle.

It was here that Twilight presently lay, sharing the cushion with her teacher, staring into a cup of green Jasmine tea. Tea, it seemed, was the beverage of choice for life-changing conversations. Given recent events, and knowing how the mind establishes subconscious links between physical sensations and emotional states, the unicorn could only hope that she would not develop a loathing for the drink as a result. Jasmine was her favourite.

“I’m pregnant.”

Too late she apprehended the threat of her mentor performing a classic spit-take, but to everypony’s good fortune Princess Celestia continued her sip unperturbed. Her features indicated calm, considered thought as she placed the cup onto the tray beside them.

“My faithful student, please understand that I mean no offense to you when I say this, but... that was rather evident from the moment you arrived.”

Twilight blushed. “It’s that obvious?”

“You are showing quite nicely,” the princess said with genial tone.

Twilight blushed harder.

She knew Celestia was speaking exactly the way she had always wanted: clearly and factually, with no hidden meaning. It was an unambiguous compliment. Whether it was a desired one was a more confusing matter.

The choice of what to say next was difficult, and the unicorn employed her go-to strategy to buy more time by taking a slow drink. She ensured that there was sufficient liquid in her cup to proceed; at the very least, she could pull this trick off better than Rarity.

“I take it this was not in any way planned?” Celestia inferred.

“No,” Twilight answered, refusing to lift her gaze from the brew.

“How long have you known?”

“Since this morning.”

The alicorn’s eyebrows jumped up a nearly-imperceptible distance; a rare sign of surprise that most ponies would easily overlook. Twilight’s peripheral vision, however, had been waiting specifically for it. She laughed bitterly.

“It’s just like me to miss the obvious for so long, isn’t it?”

Celestia produced a genuine smile to contrast Twilight’s ironic one. “It is perfectly understandable to miss the obvious when it is also is also the unexpected. We live our lives according to certain presumptions, and there are many ponies who do not at all react well when those presumptions prove false.” Her smile tempered, and her eyes turned more concerned. “How are you feeling, Twilight?”

The unicorn shrugged. “Physically, I’m fine. At least it’s not a tumor or something.”

“That is not what I meant.”

“I know.”

There was no use delaying any further; it was what she had come here to talk about.

“I feel... scared,” came the near-whisper. “Confused.”

She swallowed hard.

“Alone.”

There was a ruffling of feathers, and suddenly the purple mare found herself underwing, enveloped in the gentle warmth of a pony that felt like summer sunlight itself. “Twilight, you are not alone. Ever. You have a caring family and wonderful friends who love you... and you have me. Know, always, that even when it may seem that there is nopony else you can turn to, I will always be here. Do you understand?”

Within her feathery sanctuary, Twilight sniffled. Though it hardly seemed an achievement to be proud of, she silently congratulated herself for not bursting out crying like a little foal. “Yes,” she answered, working to keep her tone even. “Thank you, Princess.”

Her control had apparently been sufficient to convince the alicorn that it was safe to slowly withdraw her wing. Both mares levitated their respective teacups and drank; a decent effort to re-establish the conversational normalcy that Twilight now desired. The Jasmine still tasted good.

“May I ask who the father is?” Celestia inquired after the lull had ripened.

The unicorn chewed her tea before swallowing it. “I’d rather not say.” Her head bowed down in shame. “I’m sorry.”

“Twilight, if there is somepony who has hurt you–”

“No!” she practically shouted the response. “It’s not like that! He would never– I mean–”

A calming breath.

“It was consensual,” she tried again, composed this time. “I just can’t say who. It’s complicated.”

Concern still painted the alicorn’s face.

“Please don’t ask,” Twilight begged, knowing that if her mentor did ask, she would not be able to refuse her the truth.

Celestia scrutinised her pupil carefully. Slowly, she nodded. “I won’t,” she assured. “But I had hoped by now you would have learned that you can tell me anything.”

A fresh wave of guilt drowned the young unicorn. Here she was, in the presence of her teacher and her princess, after having deliberately sought it out and imposing on her precious time – and she knew it was an imposition, no matter how much Celestia might deny it – and yet she couldn’t even bring herself to explain the whole dilemma to the pony who was doing her utmost in offering help. She nearly broke from the strain; nearly spilled it all right there, but it was the princess herself who stopped her at the last moment.

“It is all right,” she assuaged. “Perhaps... some day? When you’re ready?”

At this, Twilight’s mood lifted, and she nodded vigorously. She could tell Celestia the truth – she just needed more time to get ready, and her princess would give her that time. The flux of guilt began to recede.

“From your reluctance to reveal his identity, I can assume that the stallion in question is either unwilling or unable to assist you with caring for a child.”

The teapot was already levitating in the royal pony’s golden aura, before Twilight even perceived that it was needed. Her own magic held up her cup to be refilled.

“Unable,” she declared, a little hesitantly, to the sound of flowing liquid. “Thank you.”

Had she just lied? She supposed that it all depended on one’s definition of “able”.

“I’m sure he’d be willing. He’s like that,” Twilight elucidated. “But I don’t think it’s possible. I’d have to do it by myself.”

‘Stop putting it off. Just ask!’ the unicorn commanded herself. She set the tea aside to eliminate its opportunity to stall her further.

“And... and I don’t think I can.”

The winged mare looked solemnly down at her protégé. “You are thinking of terminating the pregnancy.”

It was not a question.

Twilight shut her eyes tightly, in part to keep her tears from flowing, and in part to escape, at least in some illusory way, from the reality she was facing. An agonising length of time was necessary to force out the response both ponies were already well aware of.

“Yes.”

Celestia nodded simply, and waited; it was not yet her turn to speak. That left Twilight with no path but the one leading straight to her destination.

“Princess,” the smaller pony said, “is it... wrong to do that?”

It was the princess who now took a calming breath. The answer she was about to give would be one of the most painful things her student would ever hear from her. With desperate, pleading eyes, Twilight was looking to her mentor for guidance. Her life lay in pieces before her.

A white, regal hoof clad in golden armor came mercilessly down on one of those pieces to shatter it further.

“I do not know, Twilight.”

The young mare recoiled and stared back in a state of shock, flavoured by a healthy dose of betrayal, and – just perhaps – a tiny hint of rage.

“Wha– how can you not know?!”

Celestia gave her best effort at a soothing voice as she spoke, though it was doing little to take away from the harsh bluntness of her words. “The same way that you do not know.”

“But– but... you’re Princess Celestia!” Twilight exclaimed, as if the words were an undeniable, air-tight argument that any foal should have been able to understand. Her lips trembled while she tried to bolster her evidence. “You’re old... hundreds of years old! Thousands! And you’re wise, and you’ve seen so much, and you lead all of Equestria–”

“–and none of that means that I am able to answer your question.”

Twilight shut her eyes again. The words hurt. They hurt more than if the princess had just struck her, hard, across the face. She found herself wishing that she had; it would have been preferable.

Celestia sighed. “There are ponies who believe me to be some kind of all-knowing goddess who can do no wrong and make no mistakes. I trust, after all the time you have spent as my student, that you are not foolish enough to be among them.”

The unicorn wiped a small tear from her eye before it could roll down her cheek. She nodded in acceptance, but then, a faint glimmer of hope lit up inside her. “Is this... just a test? You just want to see if I’ll come to the right conclusion on my own?”

The alicorn’s head shook. “You are not being tested, Twilight – certainly not by me. I am telling you the truth as best I know it. You asked me whether it would be wrong for you to have an abortion. I can’t answer that because I truly don’t know.”

Still desperate for any hint of wisdom from the larger pony, Twilight focussed on a particular aspect of her phrasing. “Wrong for me...” She churned over the meaning. “Then... abortion in general is fine. Right?”

“I don’t know that, either.”

The purple unicorn’s pain was progressively being smothered by a layer of anger. After years of dedication, study, loyalty, and obedience to the princess, surely she deserved better answers than this in her most desperate hour. Though she knew her mentor was telling her the truth, she couldn’t help the feeling that she was being mocked – if not by Celestia personally, then by the universe at large.

“But... abortion is legal. You decided that, so you must think it’s alright.”

“Twilight, you know that is not how things work. ‘Legal’ simply means that there hasn’t been a powerful and convincing enough reason to make it illegal. ‘Legal’ is the default. I cannot impose restrictions on ponies’ freedoms – especially ones with such heavy consequences – without a measure of certainty in my reasoning.”

“What about the freedom of the unborn foal?” the unicorn immediately countered. “Doesn’t every pony have the freedom – the right – to live?”

“A person has a right to live,” Celestia corrected, spearing into the heart of the matter. “But a foal who has never experienced the world; who doesn’t understand that there is a world; who has never tasted, or seen, or touched anything... is that a person?”

“You’re saying it’s not?” Twilight asked with a degree of incredulity.

The large pony did nothing but look back at her. She wasn’t saying anything.

The unicorn exhaled. “All those things are irrelevant,” she decided, “a person... is any being capable of conscious thought.”

Celestia allowed herself a tiny smile. “My goodness. Millennia of life-long scholars and philosophers have argued in circles about what it means to be a person, and here my faithful student has come up with a solution so quickly!”

“It’s the only definition that makes sense,” Twilight insisted.

“Well, then,” the regal pony said as she lifted her cup of tea back to her lips, “perhaps you are one step closer to having your answer.” Her smile turned larger, and more encouraging.

Twilight’s spirits didn’t lift much, however. She sighed again. “Not really. That just changes the question to whether an unborn foal can think. And I don’t have that information. Nopony does.” She pressed a hoof to her swelling abdomen, as if she could divine the answer from the contact. As if on cue, a twitch – which she could now identify as movement from inside her womb – made itself known. Being a logical mare, she knew better than to consider the coincidence as any sort of answer.

“There are those,” the white alicorn pondered, “who believe that even if an unborn is a person, it still has no inherent right to be supported by its mother. An abortion is merely the termination of that support, and death is a side-effect.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Twilight opined. “How can death be a ‘side-effect’? It’s a clear and direct outcome of the action. If the fetus is a person, it is the most important outcome, and its moral implications are of paramount importance.” She was speaking faster now, and louder. “It is, in fact, the deciding factor, unless the pregnancy threatens the life of the mother! No matter how uncomfortable the situation may be for the pregnant mare, when her needs are weighed against a pony’s life, the life must take precedence! Especially considering that her state is temporary, while the child’s entire existence hangs in the balance! Anypony would have to be crazy not to see that!”

Celestia watched as her impassioned student jumped to her hooves to emphasize her last words, bumping the nearby silver tray and almost spilling the tea, not even caring that only the alicorn’s stabilising magic had prevented tea from touching velvet. The princess looked quite pleased; her student might not have become happy, exactly, but she apparently considered “argumentative” a definite improvement over her previous mood.

Twilight snorted haughtily. “‘Side-effect’ my flank!”

“Spoken like a true consequentialist.”

She waved a hoof. “I’m a rule utilitarian,” the pony stated, sitting back down.

“Oh? I seem to recall you once expounding on the superiority of act utilitarianism.”

The young mare flinched at the reminder. “I re-evaluated. It’s just not practical for everyday life, and there is high degree of utility in having a clear and consistent set of rules–”

A loud knocking on the door interrupted Twilight’s impromptu disquisition.

“Yes?” Celestia said, her tone calm as ever.

A somewhat harried-looking coltish pony that Twilight presumed was one of the castle’s many messengers stood in the entryway. “Princess Celestia!” He bowed with practiced speed and precision. “Your presence is urgently required in the Chamber of Ministers. The ambassador has brought–”

“It can wait,” the princess stated matter-of-factly as she poured herself a fresh cup of brew.

“But the matter is–”

“Tell me: Is somepony liable to die if I do not attend immediately?”

“Well, I suppose not, but–”

“Then it can wait.”

The anxious pony’s eyes flitted from Celestia, to Twilight, then back. At last, he capitulated. “Yes, your highness.” With the same technique as before, the messenger bowed, and left, closing the door behind him.

The whole exchange had been so unreally abrupt and unexpected that Twilight was left with the impression that she might have imagined it. She rose. “I... I should go. You have important matters and I’m just–”

“Sit, Twilight.” The alicorn’s foreleg patted the cushion invitingly. “Please.”

With marked hesitance, the young mare retook her spot. “I don’t want to hold you up from important business. We can talk some other time.”

“So can the Chamber of Ministers,” Celestia said, her lips tinged with a mischievous smirk. “Politicians often need to be reminded that the world can manage without them – at least for a time.”

Twilight couldn’t help but give a tiny smile of her own at the idea.

“And as for ‘important business’...” The alicorn leaned in closer. “I assure you, I am attending to it at this very moment.”

The purple mare’s cheeks burned crimson and her ears pulled down. How a pony could at once feel so proud and yet so embarrassed was an enigma she filed away for further investigation at a later date.

“Now, then.” Celestia lifted her head back, resuming her regal posture. “I believe we were discussing the finer points of ethical theory?”

Twilight’s nose scrunched. “I think we were discussing whether abortion is murder.”

“No solid conclusions, then?”

“No.”

“Hmm.” The alicorn’s eyes drew upward, and Twilight’s followed. The beautiful – and point-for-point accurate – painting of the constellation Pegasus on the ceiling presented no immediate answers to either pony. “Let us assume for the moment that it is not.” The princess looked back to her pupil. “Would it then be your first choice?”

“I guess so. I mean, I don’t want to have a child. Not yet, anyway,” Twilight argued, her hooftips running small circles around each other. “The only other option is to give birth and then give it up for adoption.”

“You do not seem very pleased with that option.”

“It’s a lot of trouble. Birth... hurts, doesn’t it?”

“For most mares,” Celestia agreed.

“And what does it say about me if I bring a child into the world and just expect somepony else to care for it? Wouldn’t that make me irresponsible?”

The princess’ look turned distant for a few seconds. “Twilight, if one of your friends... Applejack, or Fluttershy perhaps, had to deal with an unexpected pregnancy, as you now are...”

The smaller pony’s ears perked.

“...And if she decided that she would be unable to care for her child, and so opted to place it with a family who would...” Celestia’s gaze fixed on her student; her head tilted. This was definitely a test. “...would you think any less of her? Would you think her irresponsible?”

Twilight contemplated on the answer, but didn’t need very long. “No. Of course not.” She let out another sigh, and looked at her mentor, her lesson delivered with its usual efficacy and style. “Okay, I get it. But then why does it still feel like I’d just be dumping my problems on somepony else? What if there’s a problem with the foal and it needs constant care for the rest of its life? What if the adoptive parents are abusive? What if... both?” Twilight shuddered. “It’d be my fault, wouldn’t it?”

“Twilight, nopony can see the future, or every outcome of every choice. In the end, we can only make the choices we think will bring about the best results, and hope.” A wingtip lifted Twilight’s chin. “There are many ponies in Equestria who wish to have children of their own but cannot. Stories of overcrowded orphanages run by sadistic matrons are, thankfully, only that – Equestria’s foster care system is well-funded and organised, and adoptive parents undergo rigorous screening to ensure only those truly willing and able to care for children are allowed to do so – including children who may have any number of issues that make parenting difficult. Nothing in life is certain, but both adoptive children and parents can generally expect a happy future together.”

The argument was convincing. “Are you saying that’s what I should do?” Twilight asked.

“No, my faithful student,” Celestia replied. “I am simply helping you explore the options. I’ve no doubt you would eventually do the research and come to the same conclusions yourself.” She smiled warmly, and lowered her head. “I do hope that I am a tolerable substitute for a book.”

Celestia had timed her words perfectly to Twilight’s taking a sip of tea. The unicorn sputtered and choked lightly. “P–Princess!” She recovered and wiped at her wet lips – fortunately, none of the tea had spilled. She stared accusingly into her mentor, who had attired herself with an air of angelic innocence. “You’re a lot better than a book,” Twilight admitted, “But that wasn’t fair. I wasn’t expecting it.” The corners of her mouth pulled up. “Besides, you can’t joke around like that with somepony who’s drinking tea while pregnant!”

Both mares smiled widely, their eyes crinkling, quiet snorts of air escaping their muzzles, stopping just short of actual laughter.

There were times Twilight wished her teacher didn’t know her so well.

And there were other times – like right now – that she was thankful that she did. Smiling felt good.

Alas, nothing lasts forever.

“So those are my options,” Twilight summarised. “Abortion, which might be mareslaughter; or adoption, where I go through the trouble of childbirth just to give the foal away to who-knows-what kind of life.”

She fell silent. There was a third option. It was presently at the bottom of her list, but a full analysis of the situation would be incomplete without it.

“I could also do it.” She cleared her throat. “Be a mother, I mean. I could raise a child. I think. I don’t know.” She looked questioningly to Celestia. “Could I?”

“If you decide that it is something you want to do, then I’m certain you would make an excellent parent.”

Twilight’s eyebrows gained altitude. “‘Excellent’?”

“Excellent.”

“How do you know?”

“Past performance.”

Her cheeks burned again. The princess grinned.

“I’m not so sure,” Twilight doubted. “I always thought that having two parents is optimal for raising a foal. I don’t think single parenthood is wrong, exactly, but knowing the disadvantages... is it fair to knowingly put a child in that kind of situation?” Her eyelids descended, and she went back to making circles with her hooves. Her words came at a near-whisper. “What do I do when my child looks me in the eyes and asks who their father is and... and I can’t tell even them the truth without letting them know what a horrible mistake their whole life was.”

Celestia’s features registered surprise at that.

“I... I wouldn’t put it in those words,” Twilight clarified. “But it’s true. This whole thing was an accident. It should never have happened. How can you tell a child that? That if things had gone right, they would never exist?”

The princess placed her tea aside, and moved the tray away, clearing the space as if what she was about to say was material enough to be physically impeded by such obstacles. The young unicorn straightened, knowing that another lesson was fast incoming, and eager to receive it.

“I knew a mare once,” Celestia began, “a young, wonderful pony, with a kind heart and a bright future ahead of her. Her life wasn’t perfect – nopony’s is – but she had family and friends, and even a special somepony, whom she one day hoped to marry and start a family with.”

The alicorn’s brows furrowed. “That is, until that special somepony decided that he had waited long enough, and... forced himself on her.”

Twilight paled. The meaning of the phrase was so horrific that her brain needed to replay it twice just to be sure she had heard correctly. “He... raped her?!”

Celestia nodded, her eyes flashing in anger at the memory. “She wanted to abstain from sex until marriage, but he didn’t. When he couldn’t talk her into his way of thinking... he decided that he didn’t really care what she thought.”

Twilight’s mouth hung open. Rape was so much an evil and – fortunately, rare – event that just hearing it described, and knowing that it had happened, made her blood run cold. How anypony could be heartless enough to commit such a vile act beggared imagination.

“The situation was only made worse by the fact the stallion was meant to be a protector – he was a member of my Royal Guard.” The princess turned aside, and Twilight was witness to her showing an emotion even more exceptional than anger.

It was shame.

“Responsibility, and so blame, travels upward through military ranks – as it should. The matter was severe enough that it ascended directly to my personal attention. The mare found herself in a position similar to yours, in some ways–”

“What happened to him?” Twilight interrupted.

Celestia assessed her student quizzically. “This is not his story.”

The unicorn would not let the matter slide. Not in anger, but with dismal curiosity, she implored, “I just... I want to know what happened to him. Please.”

Obvious reluctance to indulge this particular course held the princess momentarily, yet Twilight’s anxious, questioning eyes were apparently convincing enough. “He was court-martialled, received a dishonourable discharge, and a rather lengthy prison term.”

Twilight nodded in approval. The young pony shared her princess’ distaste for prison; It was a wholly inefficient method of punishment and deterrence, and all-too-often ineffective at reformation. Whenever possible, Equestria’s criminals were made to work off their misdeeds in the communities they had wronged. Prison was reserved for those rare cases where no other option was available to protect ordinary ponies from violent offenders.

Twilight hated prisons. But she wholeheartedly believed that rapists belonged there.

“He never did get to serve it,” Celestia finished.

“...Why?”

“He committed suicide, in his cell, after only a few months.”

Twilight nearly threw up. Rape was bad enough, but to then compound that with a pony’s death by suicide – even if that pony was the perpetrator – was horrible in a whole new way. She came close to asking why her princess was telling her such an obscene tale when she recalled that her own inquisitiveness had brought forth those last few details.

“But, as I have said, this is not his story,” Celestia stated, bringing her chronicle back to its intended track. “The mare found herself pregnant, frightened, and uncertain of what to do. I gave her the best advice I could, and assured her that whatever her choice, she would have my support – as you do, Twilight.”

The purple pony was back to listening eagerly, unwavering in her trust that this story’s end could not be as revolting as its beginning. “What did she do?”

“She wanted to give the foal a chance at a normal life, and so decided on adoption. She even went as far as asking certain members of her family if they would be willing to raise the child. When it came time, however, and she gave birth to a beautiful little filly... she could not bear to give her up. There was an instant connection, and she chose to raise her, as a single mother.”

“How’d that turn out?”

Here, Celestia smiled. “Their lives weren’t always easy; there were the typical pains associated with growing up, and maybe a few more. But, with the support of family and friends, both mother and daughter prospered. The child was raised with all the love her mother could give, and, to my knowledge, it was a choice she never regretted.

“That young filly grew to be a charismatic, intelligent young mare, with many friends of her own. She had a way with ponies; a natural charm and leadership that she always used for good. She became a powerful voice in her community – with an uncanny ability of convincing ponies to open up their pockets for worthy causes. She even exposed the incompetence of her town council, and led a campaign for change and reform, making her mother, whom she loved dearly, very proud.

“Her ability to rally ponies eventually led her to get involved in politics more directly, and in an unprecedented landslide vote, she was elected the mayor of her hometown–” The princess brought her head lower, now holding back a wily grin. “–a quaint and picturesque little community just south of Canterlot...” She was almost breathing in Twilight’s ear now. “...a position which she holds to this very day.”

The young pony’s eyes stretched wide as saucers as the pieces were pulled into place. Her mouth had trouble extricating the words. “M– Mayor Mare... is a child of rape?”

“She is.”

“...I had no idea.”

“Few ponies do,” Celestia explained. “The precise details of the case were never made public, and she has never openly spoken of it – not because she is ashamed, but simply because she considers it a private matter. I have her permission to tell this story to anypony who I feel needs to hear it, but I trust you will keep it discreet.”

“Absolutely!” Twilight pledged with hoof over heart. “I won’t tell a soul!” Her pupils flicked to and from her other forehoof, the acute pony’s mind still working through all the corollaries of this new information. “Wow.”

The princess’ tea service was restored to its previous location. Twilight drank eagerly; the Jasmine tasted as good as ever.

“You asked me, Twilight, whether it’s possible to tell a child that their conception was, as you put it, a ‘mistake’. I don’t know exactly how the mayor’s mother explained it to her, but the younger Mare has known the full truth of how she came to be since she was a child. I think you’ll agree with me that she is a well-adjusted pony, and I can tell you that her relationship with her mother has always been close. Clearly, it is possible.”

It was possible. If a single mother could raise a healthy, happy child from that...

Twilight couldn’t claim any experience with parenting, and her babysitting resume could be written on a fortune cookie slip. She wasn't certain whether her quasi-big-sister relationship with Spike could count; the young dragon had been largely able to look after himself from the first day the two had lived together. Yet she could claim a general sort of responsibility and dedication that pervaded her methods for nearly anything she did, the confident support of her teacher, and more. With time to plan, and relevant books to help, she was confident that she could do nearly anything. With all that she had learned in her time as Celestia’s student...

“What about my studies?” she suddenly inquired as the priorities of her life reasserted themselves. “If I have this child and decide to raise it... will I still be your student?”

Celestia’s face became indecipherable; no longer the nurturing, supportive, and jovial visage of Twilight’s friend and mentor, but the stoic countenance of The Princess of Equestria. This instantly worried Twilight.

“Do you wish to be?” the diarch asked.

“Of course,” the unicorn answered.

“Then yes.”

There was a deeply uncomfortable lull as teacher and student looked at each other. Celestia’s face was still stone. Twilight sensed that there was far more to this response; that behind the simple “yes” concealed many monstrous caveats.

A child was a huge responsibility. A child demanded effort. And time. Lots of time.

“I guess I’d have to take some sort of... ‘maternity leave’ for a while, huh?” Twilight asked, trying to see the positives in that.

“It is not quite that simple,” Celestia said. Her stony expression had fallen away to a no-less-disquieting contemplative frown. “Twilight, the care of a foal does not stop after a few months, or a year, or five. If you truly accept the obligations of being a parent, then your child must be the most important thing in your life – even above me and your studies.”

There it was again; that feeling of fear that the young unicorn had almost managed to leave behind. “But... I can still do both, right?” she entreated. “Be a parent and your student?”

“Certainly, you can. I have always held certain... hopes... for what you might some day achieve. Your lessons and your research have gone a long way to preparing you, but there is still more to be done. It is because of my high expectations that you presently dedicate such a large amount of your time to study. But if you have a child to take care of, then it would be irresponsible of you – and negligent of me – to expect you to continue with your present workload.”

It was all true. Twilight knew it. Her throat felt dry, but the tea had been forgotten. “What... what are you saying?”

The princess’ hoof found its way to the young unicorn’s own. “Twilight. Understand that as long as you maintain your thirst for knowledge, your dedication, and the goodness in your heart, I will never abandon you as my student.”

Through the comfort the words afforded, the young pony knew to brace herself for what was to come.

“However... it is only fair that you know: Raising a child would mean that the overall course of your studies would be... delayed.”

“D– delayed? For how long?”

“That is difficult to say.”

Twilight looked pleadingly to the diarch. She needed something more solid than that.

She needed a number.

Celestia fidgeted and looked aside; it was a rare sight to see the princess ever show this kind of discomfort, yet it was the third “rare sight” in the past thirty minutes, by Twilight’s reckoning. “Ten years,” she finally said.

Twilight gasped, her eyes squinting, a fresh wetness collecting there. “Ten years?!”

“Perhaps more.”

The young pony could do nothing but stare uselessly at the ground, as her mind tried to wrap itself around the concept. Ten years was a huge chunk of her life, and the princess had said it might even be longer than that. Formulae danced in her brain, attempting to match themselves to the span of time presented. Twilight’s studies had always been a full-time job, and as of late, the total hours she spent each week could easily surpass two full-time jobs. Though she would be loath to ever admit it to her friends, she suspected that she regularly did more “work” than even Applejack. Such a schedule would never bear the addition of single parenthood.

But ten years...

“How can it be that long? I’d still study part-time...”

Celestia’s forehoof was still on hers. “It is not simply a matter of adding or subtracting hours from each day, my faithful student. There are feats which I hope to see you make that will require something more.”

Twilight felt like crying.

She caught herself. She had been exploring options after all. Internally, she chastised herself for losing perspective and getting so immersed in the idea of motherhood that all else had surreptitiously vanished. It was as if she were already planning for the new baby. Why had she done that? She tried to tell herself that her thoughts weren’t merely about the current situation – that she was also thinking of having children at some point in the future, and that’s why all this talk of academic delays was relevant.

In truth, that wasn’t the reason at all. She was thinking firmly of this child. Between abortion, adoption, and raising a foal, the latter proposition was the most costly; least in tune with her life and her plans – but for whatever reason, it also seemed the most right.

She felt the foal within her kick again.

‘Base instincts,’ she concluded, ‘that’s what I’m reacting to. Hormones. Not a solid basis for decision-making.’

The option of parenthood was quickly relegated back to the bottom of the list.

At some point, Twilight had grasped Celestia’s forehoof. She let it go.

“Thank you, Princess,” the unicorn said, standing, and bowing her head respectfully. “I think... I think I have a lot to think about.”

Celestia met her gaze affectionately. “I’m certain you do. You have my support, Twilight, no matter what you decide. Remember that. I hope you are feeling at least a little better,” the princess said, rising to her hooves.

“I guess so. Though ‘better’ might not be the best word; I’m still confused,” the pregnant mare answered, thinking hard. “But I do feel... ‘stronger’? A little bit?”

Celestia nodded. “Then our time has been well-spent.” Her sight examined the nearby tray. “Teatime always is.”

A parting gift it was then; one more smile graced Twilight’s muzzle. Memories of long conversations with her mentor filled her, and phantom aromas of various teas and more exotic drinks they had sampled over the years played in her nose. It was regrettable that these kinds of meetings had grown more and more infrequent as the years had passed, but the knowledge that Princess Celestia would always make time to hear her when she needed it most warmed something deep within her.

“I still need to do some research,” the young mare said, already using the small boost of courage she had received to start planning ahead. “Maybe make a pro/con chart of my options... I need to see a doctor, too.”

“You haven’t yet?” Celestia queried.

“No. I haven’t really had any time since I found out. I pretty much just came straight here. I’ll make an appointment as soon as I get back to Ponyville.”

“The palace infirmary is well-stocked and well-staffed,” Celestia suggested. “There is no need to wait until your return to Ponyville. I’m certain the physicians here can provide you with any care or information you need, and given who you are, you will be seen immediately. The personal student of the Princess of Equestria does not get put on a waiting list,” she said with a playful wink.

Twilight rubbed a hoof over her foreleg nervously. “I... I don’t know. The doctors in Ponyville know me, and I’ve waited this long already. I shouldn’t get special treatment just because I wasn’t careful...”

A regal hoof met her shoulder. “Twilight, I know how averse you are to taking unfair advantage of your position. But this is your health at stake – and potentially the health of another pony. You owe it to yourself to take every advantage you can. Please, go talk to the doctors here. They are some of the finest professionals Equestria has. And... if you are concerned about privacy, let me assure you that a royal physician is bound by an even higher standard of confidence than an ordinary doctor. Nothing you say to them will be revealed to anypony else – not even me. You have my word.”

Twilight’s features hardened in steadfast determination. “Alright. I will. The earlier I have all the information, the earlier I can come to an informed decision, anyway. I’m not going to procrastinate.”

Celestia seemed especially amused by that last phrase. As the two mares made their way out of the room, she spoke again. “Is there anypony else you plan to tell about your pregnancy?”

“I don’t know. Rarity is the only one who knows for now, and I made her promise not to say anything to anypony until I got back.” The mass within her abdomen was all-too-noticeable to her now, especially when walking. And especially whenever the baby stirred. “I won’t be able to deny it much longer, anyway. I don’t think I’d be fooling anypony.” She sighed loudly.

“You may wish to start by telling your family. They are likely to be the most understanding.”

“My parents are away on vacation,” the unicorn stated flatly.

“So I heard. You may be aware of this already, but Shining Armor and Cadance are visiting Canterlot, though they are leaving tomorrow. If you do wish to tell your brother in person, this may be the best opportunity to do so.”

As the mares reached the hallway junction where their paths were to diverge, Twilight stopped, and frowned. “If I’m going to do what I think I’m going to do... there won’t be any reason to.”

When the doctors had asked when Twilight had last eaten anything – it was important information to interpret some of the test results – she had been forced to admit that her last proper meal had been the day before. Ever since her morning teatime with Rarity, panic had entirely displaced hunger.

It had returned with a vengeance the moment the question had been posed. Almost as if she were hungry for two.

The next couple of hours had been doubly torturous; not only had the unicorn had to contend with being subjected to some very uncomfortable physical exams, but all through it, she had been starving.

Not literally, of course. She knew that true starvation could not kick in for several days; her body’s natural reserves were plentiful. Still, if today had been in the running for the title of Worst Day Of Twilight Sparkle’s Life, her hunger pangs had put it far into the lead.

Now that the prods and pokes and needles and scans and oozing gels and the stench of alcohol and the uncomfortable questions were over, she was free to lie in bed, still wearing a ridiculous paper gown, in the facility’s “V.I.P. room” and indulge.

Or, more accurately, gorge.

One of the fringe benefits enjoyed by Canterlot Castle’s infirmary was that food services were provided by the same kitchens that served the rest of the palace. When Twilight had asked for a meal, instead of being delivered the expected formless green mush and a pathetic cube of gelatin, she had received a platter filled with varied sandwiches, an assortment of fresh fruit and vegetables, a bowl of sweetened oatmeal, biscuits, a rich garden salad, and a slice of still-hot cherry pie.

Half of it had been consumed by the time she heard the knock on the door.

“Cohmph imph!” the unicorn said, spitting up chunks of cherries in the process. The gown, if nothing else, made a fine bib. She quickly wiped her mouth with a convenient napkin, sat, and turned to face the arrival.

The white-clad mare that entered was the castle’s head medic and one of Celestia’s official Royal Physicians; a middle-aged unicorn pony with deep blue coat, a short-cut sky-blue mane, and a bright-red cutie mark that Twilight suspected few ponies without a medical background would have been able to identify – an erythrocyte. She was also the bearer of one of the most unsettling names Twilight had ever had the pleasure of hearing: Cold Blood.

Doctor Blood, as she’d introduced herself.

“How are you feeling now, Miss Sparkle?” Despite her name, the mare consistently carried herself with an affable professionalism.

“Better, now that I’ve eaten,” Twilight answered simply.

The doctor nodded. “I’m sorry you had to wait so long, but many of these tests require a twelve hour fasting period to ensure optimum accuracy. The fact that you hadn’t eaten anything prior to coming here was actually a stroke of luck.”

Her levitating clipboard caught Twilight’s attention. “Do you have any results yet?” the purple mare questioned with a sedate curiosity that firmly refused to blossom into any kind of enthusiasm.

“Plenty,” the other pony replied as she flipped through several pages. “A few of the blood tests had to be sent out for processing overnight. We won’t have those until tomorrow, but what I do have here is very encouraging.” She gave a questioning look to Twilight, who motioned for her to continue.

“Your pregnancy appears to be perfectly standard – medically speaking. You yourself are in excellent health, and all our tests indicate that there are no complications. The fetus is healthy as well, with an estimated age between one hundred ninety and two hundred fifteen days–”

“One hundred ninety-six days,” Twilight stated emotionlessly.

The doctor glanced up, surprised, then quickly penned in the figure on the sheet.

“Which means one hundred forty-six days until I’m due.”

“Going by the averages, yes, but a variation of as much as three weeks either way is considered normal.” The blue mare turned to the next sheet, taking a moment to examine it before speaking again. Her voice shifted, slighty but noticeably, into a gentler, more careful tone. “We’ve also been able to determine the sex of the fetus with a high confidence.” She met Twilight’s eyes. “Would you... like to know?”

To Twilight, it seemed illogical to deny oneself useful information. She had a hard time imagining why anypony would not want to know. She supposed that surprises could sometimes be fun – Pinkie Pie came to mind – but a situation like this certainly didn’t qualify. She held out her hoof.

The clipboard levitated into her grasp, and she read the various statistics on the page. Beside every numerical result was a helpful addendum informing the reader of what the expected range for a healthy pony was. Twilight’s every number was right in the middle of its range; her condition was almost painfully average. Down near the bottom the information switched from Twilight’s own to that of the fetus.

Susp. Type: U (EHC)

Susp. Sex: F (EHC)

Unicorn. Female.

A girl.

A filly.

Twilight sighed. She liked information. She liked categories. She liked numbers. They were comforting and absolute.

Somehow, she wasn’t feeling comforted at all.

Doctor Blood gave her patient a few more moments before starting up again. “I believe... you were also interested in options for terminating the pregnancy?”

“Yes,” the purple mare replied as she stared vacantly past the clipboard.

“Unfortunately, this would have to be considered a late-term procedure. Most ponies seeking abortion do so within the first four months – not to say that procedures this late are unheard of; they are simply rare.” The blue pony waited for a reaction, but Twilight was offering none. “At this stage of pregnancy, drug- and magic-based options to induce a miscarriage are out of the question. The recommended procedure is a ‘D&E’. That stands for–”

“Dilation and evacuation,” the other unicorn finished, taking her doctor by surprise once more. “I read the pamphlet while I was waiting,” she explained.

“I see. Well, in your case there are no contraindications, and we’re equipped to perform a D&E right here. Including all the prep and recovery time, we can have everything done within twelve hours. Sixteen, maximum. If you’ve decided already, all we need is your signature to start.”

Twilight continued to gaze into space, giving no outward sign of her turmoil.

It could be that easy. Twelve hours and everything that was presently wrong with her life could be gone. She could go back to Ponyville, continue her life with her friends, resume her studies, and run the library as always. All she wanted was for things to be back to normal – didn’t she?

The physician cleared her throat, finally drawing Twilight’s eyes onto something within the room. “Do you have any questions? Take your time if you need to.”

There was a pause. And then, Twilight’s hollow stoicism broke. Tears welled up, blurring her vision, as her face took on a look of frightened desperation. At that instant, there really was only one question on her mind. “What should I do?”

Cold Blood, in brash beliance of her name, approached and placed a gentle hoof on the purple mare’s shoulder. Her eyes showed compassion; her voice, regret. “I’m sorry. I wish I could answer that, I really do, but there is nopony who can make this kind of choice for you. It must be your choice, completely. The most that I’m allowed to– the most that I can do, is answer questions of a medical nature. I can refer you to one of our counsellors, who can help you come to a decision, but it will still be your decision.”

The pregnant mare wiped at her nose. “What would you do?”

The other pony withdrew, and shook her head. “I don’t know. And even if I did, what’s right for one pony isn’t right for another. Miss Sparkle... Twilight... it doesn’t matter what anypony else would do. You will be the one to live with the consequences of this decision. That makes you the only pony who can make it. I can only tell you that whatever you decide, you will be provided with the best of care our staff can offer.”

A stretch of silence followed.

“There is another matter,” Cold Blood stated apologetically. “Please understand that I don’t mean to put more pressure on you; I can only imagine how difficult it is already... but abortions become more dangerous as time passes, and, as I said, you are already at the stage where such procedures are rare. If you do choose to go through with it, then – from a purely medical standpoint – the sooner we can proceed, the lower the risk to you. Again, I don’t mean to put pressure on you, and you must take all the time you need to be certain. Abortions are generally considered safe even in late stages, but you are at the point where at-term birth becomes... safer.”

Twilight leaned back, and shut her eyes. This was unfair. All her life, she had been good at following directions. Every mundane aspect of her life, from cooking to bed-making to slumber parties was always done by the book. She could follow instructions.

Here, she had none.

Scared.

Confused.

Alone.

Celestia had said that she was never truly alone, but Twilight found it difficult to discern what benefit came from having other ponies around if they couldn’t even help answer a simple question.

Her eyelids fluttered open. “You said the fetus is healthy, right? Normal?”

“According to our tests, yes,” the doctor confirmed, “but the tests aren’t perfect. There are conditions we can’t detect, and some which only develop later in life. This is especially true for genetic disorders.”

Twilight moaned softly. Every piece of data she was being given was confounding rather than elucidatory. She tried a different tack. “Have you ever seen cases... similar to mine?”

“A few.”

“Did any of them go through with the pregnancy?”

Cold Blood hesitated, shifting her weight. “Yes.”

“Did they regret it?”

The medical pony looked to the side. “In a couple of cases, the emotional toll was higher than expected... and in one there were complications when the child was born with... issues. The ones that chose abortions didn’t have these kinds–” She cut herself off suddenly, fixing her jaw as if to prevent it from moving.

Twilight had heard enough, however. “So, you think abortion is more likely to have the best outcome?”

Cold Blood’s professionalism had developed a small crack. She was clearly upset, though working valiantly to rein it in. “I think... I think I may have already said too much. My apologies, Miss Sparkle. Once again, the choice is completely up to you. We have a counsellor on-call at all times if you need to speak to somepony, and a doctor is always on duty. Did you have any other questions?”

The unicorn had lots of questions.

Not nearly as many answers.

“...No.”

Doctor Blood retrieved her clipboard from where it had been dropped on the bed, and, after giving a polite, yet formulaic goodbye, left the room.

Twilight stayed only a few minutes more, finishing up the pie which had turned cool and mildly unpleasant despite its sweetness, and, disposing of her paper gown, signed out of the infirmary.

It was long past dark when she emerged from the castle; close to her usual bedtime, in fact. She noted the shining quarter-moon in the sky, orderly and reliable as Celestia, and now Luna, always ensured it was.

And then it was swallowed up by an enormous tide of clouds. After her years of living in Ponyville, it was a bit odd – almost alarming – for Twilight to see clouds move seemingly on their own. Her sight searched, and found, a few ponies from Canterlot’s weather team on a nearby tower, their horns aglow, bringing in the late-night mass of vapour. She watched them for a while, judging their technique and finding no fault, until something cold and wet touched her back. Startled, she turned to see what it was.

A snowflake.

It had fallen from the newly-arranged cover, soon joined by its many bretheren.

The first snowfall of the year. Winter was coming.

She shivered slightly as the cold penetrated to her skin. She had neglected to put on any clothing appropriate to the weather; unlike the ponies still milling about the city around her, she was completely undressed. Though the air was cold, there was no wind to forcibly strip the heat away from her, and her body’s natural mechanisms could still compensate for the ambient temperature, allowing her to shrug off the chill.

She walked the city’s ramparts without any destination in mind, passing streets, shops, towers, many of them familiar. Since she had been a child, she would sometimes go on long walks when confronted with a particularly intractable problem, and the diversion would allow her mind to work the quandary in the background, at its own pace. Starting from her immediate neighbourhood, the range of her journeys had expanded as she had aged. Now an adult, she could freely walk about anywhere in Canterlot – technically, anywhere in Equestria, if she so wished.

There was something about seeing new locations, and, with a mental map, connecting them to the old, familiar ones, that was thoroughly pleasing and stimulating. And even though she would sometimes admonish herself for using such walks as a way of procrastinating, or avoiding problems, empirical evidence bore out the conclusion: It always helped. She would return home, or to the library, or even to Celestia, possessed of newfound clarity and insight.

The hour may have been late, but Canterlot was a city that never truly went to sleep, with certain districts remaining active all through the night. Walking down an especially busy street, Twilight couldn’t help mentally tabulating the number of pregnant mares she could spot. There were a lot. Despite modern technology and society having long ago made childbirth safe in all seasons, most mares, beholden to natural rhythms, still followed the typical birthing schedule, with a profusion of new foals arriving in the spring and early summer. Never having paid much attention to such things before, the young mare was surprised at just how many females around her were expecting – and how easily she blended in. Her lack of clothing made her stand out far more than her swollen belly ever could.

Stopping off at an out-of-the-way bridge overlooking a small, peaceful creek, she thought of all the advantages she had. Everypony made mistakes, but Twilight prided herself on making statistically fewer than most others did. She was responsible and dedicated. Healthy. She was willing to sacrifice. She had friends. Family. Knowledge, and the constant will to add to it. Between her inheritance and her royal sponsorship, she would never want for money.

Ponies with far, far less had managed to be good parents.

Her entire life, and all its opportunities, were before her. Those opportunities included raising a child.

What Twilight did then, wasn’t the logical thing to do. At this point, it could provide her with no further information.

She did it anyway.

With the gentle babbling of the creek below, and soft crystals of ice wafting around her, she cast Heartsong again.

She listened for a while, and then resumed her journey.

Her hooves carried her into the upper-south district of the city. She had, in the sum of things, made a long, irregular arc through Canterlot and was on her way back to the castle, although she had one last stop to make.

Her brother’s house.

Cadance and Shining Armor had their own suite at Canterlot Castle – and at the Crystal Palace, of course – but Twilight’s brother had refused to let go of his old dwelling. Owning it was a point of pride for him; its relatively modest size and simple construction were more than offset by its ultra-prime location, and to say it cost a fortune would be an understatement. Even on a Royal Guard Captain’s salary, it seemed out of reach, making it just a touch suspect whenever Shining Armor had insisted that he had not spent a single cent on the place that he hadn’t earned himself. Being master of multiple properties was one of the few “princely” things the stallion had taken an easy aptitude to. Twilight knew that both he and Cadance often eschewed the castle suite for the warmer feel of this location.

That certainly appeared to be the case on this night; as she approached, she could see that one of the upstairs windows had a light on. Making no ceremony, she ascended the short flight of steps to the entryway and went in without even bothering to knock.

“Shining Armor?!” she called out into the dimness of the main room. “Cadance?!” She flipped on the lights.

For a few seconds there was only silence, and then the heavy beat of hooves on hardwood. “Twiley?!” A familiar white stallion appeared at the top of the stairs, his eyes immediately sparking and his mouth grinning upon recognising his visitor. “Hey! I didn’t know you were in Canterlot. Oh, it’s great to see you!”

The voice was certainly a welcome sound for the mare’s sore ears, but she could only produce a momentary, frail, half-smile in reply. “Is... is Cadance here?” she asked, looking around.

“Not yet, but she should be back soon... Twilight, what’s wrong?” Her brother descended the steps slowly, his smile vanished into a visage of concern, gaze fixed squarely on his sister.

There was no point in delaying.

“Shining, I’m pregnant.”

The stallion froze in his tracks, his face suddenly blanked by an expression that could aptly be described as “stillborn surprise”.

Twilight performed a quarter-turn, presenting the bulge in her abdomen to add veracity to her claim. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep her tears at bay.

A stock-still Shining Armor stared at her, taking in the sight, and likely still reviewing the words he had just heard. It took a moment. “Y– You mean...?”

His sister nodded, her overflowing eyes confirming everything he needed to know.

Twilight didn’t understand when or how her brother had crossed the intervening space, but all at once he had her wrapped in his forelegs, squeezing, rocking gently, hooking his neck around hers, as the dam finally burst and she clung to him and cried like the little filly she felt herself to be.

“It’s okay. Twilight. I’m here. I’m right here. I love you. I promise. I’m not going to let anything bad happen.” His hooves ran down her withers, caressing her, their bodies’ rhythmic swaying like something one would do to calm down an infant. All the while, he continued to speak, every word an assurance of his love and support. “You hear me, Twiley? We’ll get through this. I swear it. I’m right here. It’ll be okay. I love you. I love you, okay? I’m not leaving. I’ll help you. You’re gonna be alright. I’m here. I love you.”

With time, Twilight’s cries muted into sobs, and ultimately into a soundless weeping. Shining’s grip never slacked, even as he, too, eventually fell silent. All day long the pregnant mare had been fighting this; grappling with her feelings and attempting to subdue them with thought, logic, and analysis. Her success hadn’t been total, but she had never given up the fight; never surrendered.

Until now.

In her brother’s embrace, she was free to loose all the pent-up fear, helplessness, anger, despair, and shame. She did, and he sat there with her, his fur drinking in her tears, his form steadfast and loyal; an unwavering rock in the middle of a stormy ocean, and Twilight appreciated it no less for having known that it would be there. He loved her, he understood her, and he would help her.

At length, even the tears ceased, their supply exhausted.

Shining Armor chanced to speak once more. “Twilight, I don’t know exactly what’ll happen, but I swear to you, you can count on me. I’ll support you, no matter what you decide to do about... this.”

“‘Her’,” Twilight corrected with a whisper. “‘About her.’ She’s a filly. And I’ve already decided: I’m keeping her.”

She felt Shining Armor hold her little bit tighter.

“I’m keeping our daughter.”

Dream (Part I)

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“There! Did you feel that?” Cadance asked with a voice brimming on foalish glee. Her ear and cheek pressed firmly into the right side of Twilight’s swollen midsection, and her pink hoof traced circles in the purple fur in an apparent attempt to coax out another stir.

“I didn’t feel anything,” an uncertain Shining Armor replied, mirroring her position on the pregnant unicorn’s left. “Maybe she’s just kicking on your side,” he reasoned. “Maybe we should switch pla–”

“There!”

This time, the white pony gasped. “I felt that!” His mouth remained opened in amazement, his head glued to Twilight’s belly as Cadance lifted herself up to face the supine unicorn. The extra-spacious bed they occupied, seemingly made for three, provided them generous freedom of movement.

“So, when did she start kicking?” the enthused young princess inquired.

“Right after I figured out I was pregnant,” Twilight answered, still blushing slightly from the intimate attention her abdomen was receiving. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear she was hiding on purpose the whole time, and now she knows the jig is finally up.”

A soft laugh tumbled from Cadance’s mouth as she massaged the purple swell, where Shining Armor was still intently feeling for further signs of activity. A sudden perking of his ears and a twitch of his tail indicated success. He finally pulled away, but his wide eyes remained focussed on the mound concealing a brand-new life within.

“Shine? You look surprised,” the alicorn observed.

“It’s... it’s just...” He exhaled anxiously. “That’s a foal in there... a life. I... we made her.” He shook his head. “I don’t think it’s sunk in yet. It’s so... so...”

“...inconceivable?” Twilight finished, winking at Cadance, who immediately got the joke.

“Yeah,” Shining Armor agreed. It took a few seconds of the two mares’ snickering at his expense before he, too, apprehended the wordplay and joined them. “You know what I mean,” he said in mock-defensiveness.

“I do,” his sister admitted. “To actually be bringing a new pony into the world... It’s pretty overwhelming. I hope I can be a good mother for her.” Her expression fell as she finished the sentence. In recent hours, the ‘M word’ had taken on an almost physical weight; saying it was akin to lifting a certain boulder Rarity had once become enamoured with.

“I think you’ll make a wonderful mother,” Cadance encouraged.

Twilight looked up. From the moment the young princess had heard the news, she had been nothing but positive and sympathetic; a source of comfort that even Shining Armor was struggling to match. Indeed, the alicorn’s good humour had rapidly proved infectious to both siblings. A tiny – and increasingly irrelevant – remnant of Twilight’s paranoia was still expecting to catch a glimpse of some hidden anger or resentment in her features, but there was simply none to be found.

“Cadance, I...” she started, and stopped, not quite certain whether any words would be appropriate to express all that she felt towards this mare. She gathered her resolve and opened her mouth again.

“Thank you.”

...was what she had wanted to say, with a grateful smile.

What actually came out was:

“I’m sorry.”

The reaction was immediate. “No,” Cadance said, pressing a hoof to Twilight’s lips, “I don’t want to hear that again. You don’t have anything to be sorry for because you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I did something wrong,” Twilight insisted as soon as her muzzle was freed. “I’m pregnant with my brother’s foal! That wasn’t supposed to happen. I still don’t know what went wrong. Maybe I didn’t cast the spell properly or there was something we missed, and now I’m pregnant and he’s your husband...”

Her eyes filled with tears. She had thought there weren’t any more to spare.

“...and it’s not supposed to be your problem.”

Cadance shook her head. “Twilight, I love you. Both of you. That makes it my problem. And even if you made some kind of mistake with the contraception spell, I know you didn’t do it on purpose.” She sighed gently, the corners of her lips pulling back to restore the interrupted optimism. “Do you remember what I said once? I told you that if anything ever happened to you and Shining because of your... special relationship, I’d be there to help you.”

Twilight avoided her gaze. “That was if we were ever found out. This is... different.”

“Yes, it is,” Cadance agreed. Her forehoof found Twilight’s stomach once again. “This changes a lot of things. There’s another pony involved now.” She observed the swell carefully, her eyes moving quickly as if already outlining the shape of the foal to be. “I don’t think any of us were really prepared for a child coming into the picture. But some things are still the same: We still have each other.” Her sight turned back to the uncertain unicorn, and she leaned in, almost nose-to-nose, and caressed her cheek with a hoof. “You and Shine – and the baby – have my full support. We’re all in this together. Okay?”

Their eyes met. Twilight could see nothing there but truth; honest and unvarnished. However she was doing it, Cadance wasn’t wavering in the slightest.

She nodded. “Cadance... Thank you. For everything.”

It worked that time – smile and all.

The mares brought their foreheads together, their horns clacking lightly against each other with the touch. “I love you,” Twilight whispered, the choice of words so obvious that to have overlooked it till now seemed absurd.

“I love you, too, my little pony.”

At that, Cadance laid a quick peck on Twilight’s nose. Without giving her an opportunity to answer in kind, she lay down next to her, her forelimb still outstretched as it travelled back to stroking the unicorn’s middle. Twilight didn’t mind – in fact, the action had shed its embarrassing nature to leave only a feeling of pleasant reassurance. Here, in this place, in this moment, she and her baby were safe from all the troubles of the world. She adjusted her pillow, shut her eyes, and repeated the breathing exercise her former foalsitter had taught her.

It was very late at this point. Had the day been normal, Twilight would have had little trouble staying awake until sunrise; the studious mare was no stranger to all-nighters. But the day had not been normal, and her body had filed serious grievances related to criminally-high levels of stress hormones and multiple unscheduled panic attacks. What made it all the worse was that Twilight knew full well that her baby’s condition was sensitive to such phenomena. Relaxation wasn’t just recommended; it was vital.

The young mare’s thoughts were blurring at the edges and the bedroom’s overhead light was starting to irritate her eyes, yet the feeling of sleep was still out of reach.

“Do you really think I’ll make a good mother?” she asked, figuring that the silence had grown long enough and was threatening to become a contributing factor to insomnia. Truthfully, she wanted to hear Cadance’s voice again. “I don’t really know much about taking care of foals.”

“Nopony really does until they have one of their own,” the alicorn replied thoughtfully.

“What about you?” Twilight turned onto her side so that she could face the other mare properly, and in the process brought herself a few inches closer, once more placing them muzzle-to-muzzle. “You were a foalsitter for years.”

The alicorn rolled her eyes playfully at the naive suggestion. “It’s not the same thing. Foalsitting is a big responsibility, but it can’t compare to being a parent. Motherhood isn’t just a job. It’s a life.”

Twilight let out a near-whimper. “What have I gotten myself into?” she lamented quietly. “I don’t have a plan or anything. I didn’t think this through properly at all. Raising a foal all by myself...”

Cadance looked aside for a few seconds in consideration. “It doesn’t have to be by yourself,” she offered.

“What do you mean?”

She gave Twilight a look that was somewhere between timidly hopeful and encouraging. “I mean you could come live with us, in the Crystal Empire.”

The younger pony was taken aback. The idea had not crossed her mind. “Live with you... like, in the Crystal Palace?”

“Why not? You are family of royalty now. It’s a wonderful place to raise a foal.”

The suggestion had obvious merit, and it could be arranged easily. A living situation that ensured both Twilight and her child would be within reach of every resource they needed, not to mention the two ponies who both loved her and understood her predicament completely. “Wouldn’t it be weird?” she nevertheless questioned. “Ponies might start to suspect something with all of us living together like that.”

Cadance had that thoughtful expression again. “I don’t see that happening; not if we’re careful. It’s not as if you wouldn’t have your own room. To anypony looking at us, you’d be the Prince’s sister, taking care of her child with help from her closest family – which would be true. It’s not so strange.”

Twilight futilely tried to find fault with this line of reasoning. There was something about the premise that was making her uncomfortable, but, for the moment, she couldn’t put her hoof on exactly what.

Whatever the trouble was, Cadance sensed her reluctance immediately. “It’s just an idea,” she soothed.

“It’s a good idea,” Twilight conceded. “It’s logical. I’d have to leave Ponyville and my friends, but I’d get to be close to you and Shining...”

Her priorities needed to be in order.

“...What really matters is what’s best for my daughter.”

“Absolutely,” Cadance agreed with marked conviction. “But you can’t always think through everything logically.”

Twilight doubted that. “I can’t?”

“A child needs love, Twilight, and an environment where she and her mother can grow. If you’re stressed or uncomfortable, that can affect your foal in ways that aren’t always obvious but can be just as harmful as it is to you. A child naturally empathises with her mother; she’ll pick up on your feelings. You need to think of your daughter first, but you also need to think of yourself as part of that. You’re going to be the most important pony in her life.”

She felt Cadance’s hoof abandon her belly in favour of pressing into her chest.

“Trust your instincts. Where do you want to be? What is your heart telling you?”

Perhaps it was the fact that she was so tired and her mind exhausted of its normally-boundless energy; she would never know for certain. Regardless of the reason, she found herself able to temporarily allay her logic and listen to – and clearly hear – the part of her that felt more than thought.

The words came easily, naturally. “I want to stay in Ponyville. With my friends. With Spike. At the library. I want to raise my daughter there.”

Cadance lowered her eyelids knowingly. “Then that’s what you should do.”

And it was settled, just like that. Twilight could only look on in gratitude as the picture of her future came just a little more into focus, thanks to her foalsitter’s expert display of her special talent. It was at times like these she thanked the stars for having two very different princesses to turn to. Celestia had wisdom, but Cadance had advice. Real, understandable, actionable.

Perhaps she had a little more. “Uh, Cadance... Can I ask you about a few more things?”

“You can ask me anything you like, anytime,” the alicorn said as she gently bopped Twilight’s nose with her own. “Aren’t you tired, though?”

“I’m totally beat,” Twilight answered wearily. “But I can’t go to sleep yet.”

“Well, then, what’s troubling you?”

The young mare’s thoughts were a jumble of unfamiliar feelings and half-formed ideas. She tried to put words to what was at the forefront. “What if... what if it turns out that I can’t do it? I try and I can’t be a good mother? What if I have to give her up? What if I have to say goodbye and let her live with someponies I don’t even know and I never get to see her again?” Twilight’s forelimbs instinctively went to her stomach, clutching onto the protuberance as if its contents could be snatched from her at that very instant. “What if somepony finds out our secret and tells the authorities? What if they think I’m an unfit mother and take her away from me? I can’t let them take her... I’m– I’m so scared of losing her, and that doesn’t even make any sense! This morning I didn’t even know she existed and I felt completely fine! And a few hours ago I was ready to... to...!” She grit her teeth to keep from crying. “Why do I feel this way now?! What the hay is wrong with me?!”

“Twilight. Breathe.”

Twilight breathed.

Cadance was hugging her.

She wouldn’t cry now. Twilight couldn’t cry if her foalsitter was holding her. That had always been true, since she had been a little filly. It was some kind of magic Cadance possessed – she could not think of any other explanation.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Now let’s take things one at a time.” Cadance slowly let go, allowing the younger pony to regain her composure as she did. “First: There’s nothing wrong with you. You’ve had a very eventful day, and this is all a lot to take in. But even if you hadn’t, what you’re feeling is perfectly normal. It’s just your maternal instincts taking hold. You’ll learn to deal with them, one day at a time.”

Twilight sniffed. “So... all expecting mares go through this?”

“Well...” Cadance did a poor job of hiding a smirk. “...No. But many do. The point is: it’s okay to feel this way. Second: Nopony is going to take your daughter away from you. You’re a good pony, Twilight. They don’t take foals away from good ponies – not even ones whose parents happen to be brother and sister. If somepony finds out that Shining’s her father, then we’ll deal with it, but your daughter gets to stay with you, because you’re a capable parent who would never hurt her child. Consensual incest may be socially taboo, but it’s not illegal. And polyamory certainly isn’t. There’s no grounds to take your daughter from you. You know that.

“And finally, if you decide – and nopony else can ever force you to make this choice – if you decide that the best thing is to give her up for adoption, then I’m sure she’ll be taken care of by ponies who love her. And...”

Here, Cadance paused, and took on an odd sort of pensive look that Twilight couldn’t decipher. It almost seemed a shy hopefulness. She hesitated briefly before continuing, her voice much softer.

“...and you wouldn’t have to give her to strangers.” Her violet eyes stared directly into Twilight’s own. “It’s up to you, but it if ever comes to that, I hope you’ll consider letting... us... me and Shine... letting us take care of her.”

“You– you’d do that?” Twilight might have been more surprised by the offer if only it hadn’t been so very much like Cadance to say something like that. Coming from her, it was completely natural.

“Of course,” the alicorn assured. “Shine and I have actually been talking about starting a family. We think we’re ready for that step. We were going to try for a foal of our own when my cycle started next year. Of course, I really didn’t think he’d manage to get his own sister pregnant first... Nice job on that, by the way, Shine.” The two mares turned their attention to the stallion, who, all through this discussion, had been sitting at the edge of the bed, listening without making a single peep. He wisely stayed silent in response to his wife’s latest quip, but a pink blush was visible through his snow-white coat.

Cadance chuckled in amusement. “Relax, honey. At least now we know for sure that you’re not shooting blanks.”

Shining Armor’s pink quickly turned into an impossibly bright red. Twilight couldn’t resist accompanying Cadance with a tiny giggle of her own, before turning back.

“So...” she said as she wafted down from the short-lived high. “You’d be okay with raising a foal you didn’t give birth to? Adopting?”

“Twilight, I was adopted. I think I’m comfortable enough with the idea.”

There was no doubt in the young unicorn’s mind: This was a guarantee. Even if the worst came to pass – even if Twilight died – her daughter would have a home. A good home. A future. She smiled at the thought. It was, to be certain, a little bit unhinged for her to be looking on the prospect of her own death with an academic satisfaction, but it was just so... well-organised. The worst-case scenario had been planned for and it wasn’t all that bad. It was neat.

“I want to raise her,” she affirmed. “And I’m going to try my hardest. But if anything ever happens to me...” Her hoof reached out and lay across Cadance’s heart, mirroring the alicorn’s earlier gesture. “You and Shining are my first choice. I’ll make sure to put it in my will just to make it official.” Her brows furrowed. “Which reminds me: I need to make a will.”

The alicorn grinned. “So, ready to go to sleep yet? I can use the Good Night Sleep Tight spell if you need it.”

“Wait, hold on,” Twilight protested. “This is great information. I think we might be on a roll here. Can we keep talking...? Oh, unless you’re tired.” Her ears pinned back. “You’ve already helped so much, I don’t want to keep you up.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Cadance replied as she arranged a couple to pillows to support her in a comfortable recline. “We have the morning free and I’m definitely planning on sleeping in, so we can stay up late.”

The last phrase reverberated through some of the most pleasant memories of Twilight’s childhood. She laughed. “Just like old times, then?”

“Rules about bedtime were made to be broken,” Cadance smugly declared. With a conspiratorial hush, she added, “Just don’t tell your parents I let you stay up past midnight.”

Twilight’s giggling continued unabated. “I remember that. I also remember falling asleep in school the next day!” One of her eyes squinted in accusation.

Her former foalsitter brushed it off. “Don’t go blaming me, little pony. I didn’t force you to stay up. It was your choice. I was just teaching you about consequences and responsibility.”

All mirth suddenly ceased. It was like a balloon had popped, leaving everypony’s ears ringing against the silence.

Even Shining Armor seemed to have gone quiet... moreso than he’d been already.

A self-startled Cadance looked down guiltily, temporarily leaving her bedfellow to once again hang over a pit of her own failures.

She returned soon enough. “You’re not irresponsible, Twilight.” The alicorn’s eyes were steeled in resolve. “You took all the right precautions. You had the consent of everypony. You were careful. Things just happen sometimes. There’s risk in everything. You’re brave for making the choices you’ve made. You’re accepting responsibility. Shining Armor and I are, too. We’re willing to do anything we can to help. No matter what society says, we know there was nothing wrong with what we did. Please, Twilight... don’t ever feel guilty about being in love.” She looked over to her stallion even as she cradled Twilight’s chin in her hoof. “That goes for you, too, Shine.”

Shining Armor nodded in understanding, then returned to staring intently at nothing.

“I’m sorry,” Cadance said, “for bringing it up. I didn’t mean to do that.”

“No, it’s fine,” Twilight answered softly, her own distant gaze nearly identical to her brother’s. “I’m fine. Can we talk about something else for a while, though?”

“Sure.” Cadance quickly got to work rebuilding an upbeat atmosphere. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I don’t know...”

There was a short stretch where nothing was spoken. Twilight was hoping somepony else could direct the conversation, and got her wish as Cadance appeared to be just on the verge of making some new contribution when...

“A name,” Shining Armor said.

His sister and wife both looked to him with surprise.

“I was just thinking...” he explained, “She needs a name.”

Cadance sat up on her haunches. “Oooh, good one. What do you think, Twilight?”

The unicorn likewise raised herself up, rapidly arranging a couple of spare pillows against the headboard so she could sit more comfortably and easily face the other two ponies – something her horizontal position had been making tiringly difficult. “I have no idea. I didn’t even think of that.”

“How about following family tradition?” the pink mare suggested. “Your grandmother was Twilight Gleam. Then we have Twilight Velvet, Twilight Sparkle, so...” She looked in turn to each sibling. “Twilight... Shine?”

The stallion looked up and away, his eyebrows raised, and his jaw moved in what seemed to be a taste-test of the name.

Twilight Sparkle, meanwhile, was less enthralled. “That’s a little obvious,” she complained. “It won’t take ponies much to figure out who her father is then.”

Cadance’s lips pulled to the side and her lids came down. “You’re being a little paranoid,” she replied.

“I am not!” Twilight whined. “With a name like that, I might as well call her ‘Twilight Shine By Shining Armor Out Of Twilight Sparkle’!”

A pillow suddenly flew into the alicorn’s face, and Twilight momentarily suspected the somepony had hurled it at her. Both siblings, however, had done nothing; it was Cadance herself who had levitated the pillow against her muzzle to stifle an unexpected explosion of laughter.

“And that’s not funny!” Twilight cried. She had simply used proper – if a touch archaic – genealogical terminology to make a very serious point. Her eyes pleaded with Shining Armor for support.

But the stallion’s lips were fighting back a wry smile. “It’s a little funny,” he admitted with a shrug of his shoulders.

Twilight huffed. She noted to herself that her brother would eventually need to pay for this betrayal.

Eventually came right now.

“How about Glimmer Shield?” she teased with an evil glint in her teeth.

Shining Armor’s eyes shot wide open. “No. You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me,” his sister answered, patting her belly. “I think little Glimmer here will like it!”

“You can’t!”

“Why not?” Twilight’s grin was threatening to split her face in half. “It’s a beautiful name. I’ll tell her all about how I picked it.”

“No!” he shouted.

Cadance, in the meantime, had calmed down and traded in the bulk of her levity for confusion. “Care to let me in on the joke, you two?”

Fear shone through the crumbling walls of Shining Armor’s brotherly authority. “Twilight, if you say anything...”

With not an iota of hesitation, his sister delivered the coup de grâce. “Glimmer Shield was what our parents were going to name Shining Armor before they discovered that he was a colt and not a filly.”

Cadance needed only to look at her mortified beau to confirm the truth of the statement. “Oh. My. Gosh. Glimmer Shield... oh, honey, that is so cute!” she sqeed.

The defeated stallion threw his forelimbs in the air before collapsing into a groaning heap on the bed. His aura ripped away the pillow still in Cadance’s grip and covered his head just in time to avoid the full onslaught of laughter his wife and sister let loose upon him. A valiant attempt to stuff as much of the fluff into his ears as possible to block them out met with limited success.

In the end, the laughter died down, as it always did.

Cadance said something about using her husband’s would-be female name during certain future intimate moments, to which Shining retorted that by doing so she ran the definite risk of there being no more intimate moments between them, ever. Twilight’s external attention had diminished, however, and she didn’t register the full exchange. The memory behind the joke had reminded her of something more serious, and Cadance could take no blame for it this time.

“Twilight?” The young princess was eternally sensitive to the moods of the ponies around her.

“I was just thinking about my parents,” Twilight said, her hoof running idle circles on her stomach. “They’re going to ask questions. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to tell them the truth. I... I don’t want to lie to them.”

“I don’t see any other way,” Shining stated as he sat up straight again and brushed some nonexistent dust from his coat. “Either we lie through our teeth or... we come clean. With everything.”

Twilight took in a deep lungful of air. “‘Mom? Dad? I need to tell you something. Now, please don’t overreact. You see, I’m kind of involved in a secret long-distance incestuous polyamorous relationship with Shining Armor and Cadance. Oh, and we had a bit of an accident and now I’m pregnant with Shining’s foal. Congratulations on being grandparents!’ Yeah, I’m sure that’ll go over well.”

The stallion was already busy formulating a plan. “Actually, I think mom won’t be so bad, if we break it to her gently. There was one time – you were just a tiny filly then – when I asked her about one of the kids in my school. It’d got out she didn’t have a mom. Just dads. Three of them.”

Twilight hadn’t heard this story.

From Cadance’s reaction, she either had, or was so open-minded that this sort of thing didn’t faze her in the least.

“She was getting bullied by some of the other kids about it. I asked mom, and she told me that as long as a child is raised in love, and her parents are happy with each other, it doesn’t matter who they are, and that there was nothing wrong with any of them.”

“What happened?” his sister inquired.

“The bullying stopped,” he stated coolly. “Because I took care of it.”

“How?” Twilight had a sneaking suspicion that she already knew the answer.

“With a visit to the dentist for a couple of the other kids, and a two-week suspension for me. It was worth it, though.”

“Oh, wait! I know this!” Cadance interjected, “She was that filly you told me about...?”

“Yeah,” Shining Armor confirmed, his mouth hinting at a nostalgic smile. “She was my first real kiss.”

Twilight’s admiration was marred by a smidge of jealousy. She had always known that neither she nor Cadance had been Shining’s first romantic kiss – or first crush, for that matter – but the way his eyes turned all dreamy at the recollection didn’t sit too well with her.

His wife, on the other hoof, took issue with a different part of the story. “I can’t say I approve of violence, Shine, unless it’s absolutely necessary. You couldn’t have protected her without hurting anypony?”

“I may have been a little rough, but I was setting an example. A deterrent. It saved a lot of trouble down the line. And trust me, there was no getting through to those guys with just words,” he told a still-unconvinced Cadance. “Anyway, the point is: I think mom might be a lot more understanding of... us. It’s not exactly the same thing, but... yeah. I’m not so sure about dad.”

“I think both your parents are intelligent and accepting ponies,” Cadance offered. “I’m not saying telling them will be easy. They may get upset. They probably will. But this is the sort of thing that becomes easier with time. Once they realise they can’t change the situation, they’ll accept it. They won’t stop loving you. Either of you. And once their granddaughter is born, they’ll love her just the same. Maybe even more.”

Twilight nodded. “We need to tell our parents,” she determined. “I hate lying. Keeping a secret is one thing, but explicitly giving false information... It’s so... academically unsound.”

“And what then? Who else do we tell? Anypony who asks?” the stallion questioned. “We’re going to have to lie. Unless...”

The two siblings looked not so much at as into each other. That horrible, bitter lump in Twilight’s throat rematerialised, and she had to force it down.

The knowledge of what her brother was about to say was not frightening because the proposal was uniformly horrible – if it were, it could never be forced on her; she would reject it; fight it. No, Twilight was terrified because the words that came out of Shining Armor stood firmly on the grim, disputed border of plausibility.

“I’ll do it, Twilight. If you just say you want to. I’ll do it. Then... then we wouldn’t have to hide. From anypony.”

What he meant was that they wouldn’t be able to hide. Twilight wondered if he’d truthfully prefer it that way. It was the military wisdom her brother lived by: When in doubt, charge. She recalled that, despite being a model guardspony, he had never been particularly good at stealth. His battles were always fought in the open.

“I could marry you,” he finished.

‘And flip my life completely upside-down,’ Twilight thought. ‘No, that’s not quite it.’ Her life had already been flipped. It was, in fact, still tumbling through the air, its ultimate landing spot and orientation only vaguely predictable, with much risk of haphazard bouncing and rolling and chunks breaking off when it finally hit. Shining Armor was proposing to whack it in midair and ricochet it somewhere else completely.

“But... you and Cadance...” Twilight mumbled. She instantly regretted doing so.

The stallion reacted as if she’d kicked him in his broken ribs, and possibly slapped his face to boot – it was difficult to tell. His jaw tensed repeatedly, and the tear rolling down his cheek spoke of how much of his own turmoil he was holding in – something Twilight had unfairly allowed herself to forget. He looked at his wife. “Cady... I love you so much... I– I can’t expect you... to put up with–”

“Don’t. Even. Think about it,” Cadance cut him off. She made her way over to where he sat, and pulled him into a tight embrace.

The alicorn’s talents were just as effective on the elder sibling as they had been on the younger; Shining Armor’s eyes stopped leaking immediately. He hugged his mare back. “Cady...”

“I’d rather share you than lose you,” Cadance said, a nearly unnoticeable bead of liquid hanging off the corner of one of her own eyes. “I love you. You’ve been good to me, Shine. And loyal, even when I didn’t make it easy.” She withdrew, and pointed a forehoof directly at Twilight, and with such severity that the younger mare flinched. “That is how you stay loyal to me,” Cadance commanded, “You take care of them. No splitting. Understand?”

The stallion swallowed. “Y– Yeah.” He received a kiss in reward.

“If you and Twilight want to get married... I’ll preside over the ceremony myself.” Cadance’s expression gradually brightened. “I... I’d actually like that.”

“Hold on,” Twilight finally interjected. “Just... wait... both of you. Let me think...” A quick massage of her temples helped a bit. “We’re brother and sister,” she stated the obvious. At least it was a start. “We can’t get legally married unless we have special dispensation from the crown. And you’re already married which would make it bigamy, which is technically legal, but then we’d need one heck of good explanation for why you want your sister as your second wife.”

“I think we have a good explanation,” Cadance noted with a meaningful look at Twilight’s belly.

“I don’t think it’s that simple...”

“I can talk to Celestia,” Shining Armor said. “I don’t care what it takes. I can convince her.”

“Me, too,” added Cadance. “But... I’m a princess. Is there any reason why I can’t just sign off on that dispensation myself?”

“Hold on!” Twilight shouted. “Why are you both planning this already?! Doesn’t anyone even care if I want to get married?!”

The two ponies stared at her, stunned, then quickly downcast their eyes and ears. “Sorry,” they said in unison.

“I don’t want to marry you,” Twilight stated simply. She gazed at Cadance, and tapped her chest as way of explanation. “It doesn’t feel right.” Then her attention set back on the stallion. “Shining, I love you. A lot. And... in more ways than most sisters do. Which is fine, because we’ve never let that... sexual stuff hurt us. But you’re my brother first. And marrying you... It’s just not how I picture us together. Okay?”

Her audience seemed accepting enough of this reason, but Twilight already had a full presentation in the works.

“And we need to be thinking about our daughter. About what’s best for her. If everypony knows about us, what will she be treated like?”

“If anyone hurts her...” Shining instinctively threatened.

“You’ll what? Knock some ponies’ teeth out again? Are you ready to do that to foals? Because you’ll have to. Do you even know how cruel kids can be to anypony who’s different? I was teased at school because I liked books. I know three girls living in Ponyville – Cadance, you remember them, they were your flower fillies? – who have serious bully problems just because they don’t have their cutie marks yet. And that one filly you mentioned, with the three dads... well, what about a filly whose parents are brother and sister?”

Cadance sighed dolefully. “Twilight’s right. If this were just about us, we could make a fight of it; try changing society’s attitudes. But I don’t think it would be fair to your daughter. She doesn’t have a choice.”

Shining Armor looked utterly defeated, shoulders slumped and head low. “I– I’m sorry. I just wanted to do something. I thought I... could be... good...” He trailed off pathetically.

The alicorn’s wing pulled him into a sideways hug. “A father,” she finished for him, nuzzling into his neck. “You thought you could be a good father.”

“...Yeah.”

Twilight, at long last, perceived that both she and her brother were in that same desperate, confused state of mind. He was just as lost as she was, and his mind was doubtlessly filled with just as big a jumble of opposing ideas and desires as Twilight’s. He was simply better at hiding it and putting up a strong front. He had been strong for her; comforting and devoted and selfless. Even his offer of marriage was a testament to how much he was willing to give... and give up.

“Shining, you are,” she stated. She could at least try to return the favour. “You’re the father of my child. You deserve to be a part of her life. And I’m going to make sure that you are. You’ll get to see her, whenever you come to Ponyville. And she’ll visit you in the Crystal Empire. We both will. It’s just that... at least in public... you’ll have to be her uncle. But we’ll all know the truth.”

The stallion nodded stoically, Cadance still leaning reassuringly against him.

“I hate lying,” his sister reiterated, “but for her... that’s what we’re going to have to do.”

Silence.

“Oh, and thanks for offering to marry me, B.B.B.F.F.,” Twilight added, the hastily-constructed smile feeling surprisingly genuine in her cheeks. “I know I said ‘no’, but for the record... I really thought about it, and I could certainly do worse than the one stallion I’ve cared for the most my entire life.”

Her B.B.B.F.F. chuckled. “Well, the offer stands if you ever change your mind. But it’s all up to you, Twiley. If you want me to get more involved with taking care of our daughter or... or just stay out of the way and let you handle things on your own, tell me. I’ll do anything for you... and for her.”

“Thanks,” Twilight said, feeling uplifted by the assurance. “Still not marrying you, though. Our family may be a noble house, but we haven’t done that intrafamilial marriage thing in generations, and I’m not going to be the one to bring that tradition back.”

“Guess that rules out my backup plan, too,” Cadance said.

Cadance had another idea. Twilight was on it instantly with perked ears. “What backup plan?”

The princess vacillated a little before speaking, trying to sound casual despite being suddenly overcome by a bout of obvious nervousness. “Well...” Her pupils trembled like small animals ready to flee and burrow away from danger. “You could just marry me.”

Twilight’s jaw dropped. Her foalsitter had never been above playing a good joke or prank, but this definitely wasn’t one.

She was serious.

The young unicorn could already sense the blood creeping into her face. “You’d do...? Um... I mean... than– thanks?” She coughed. “You’d do that... to help me with the baby?”

When Twilight looked at the winged mare again, her brain registered a critical mismatch in appearance. The horn, pink coat, and tricolour mane told her that she was seeing her typically-self-assured former-foalsitter-turned-princess Cadance, but the timid way the pony was hiding her furious blush behind her mane, avoiding her gaze, and scuffing her hoof on the mattress reminded her in no uncertain terms of Fluttershy.

So did the voice.

“Twilight, it, um... it has nothing to do with the baby... or, it wouldn’t... really.”

The unicorn had observed her foalsitter get this flustered only once before, and that had been many years ago, when she had been faced with a certain white unicorn stallion for the very first time...

Cadance gathered the wherewithal to look at Twilight again. “If you’d asked me before... this happened... If you’d asked me to marry you, I would’ve said ‘yes’. And... I still would.”

Twilight just stared, convinced that the fur on her cheeks would begin singeing at any moment. What she had felt in Celestia’s presence paled in comparison to this moment.

‘Did... did Cadance just propose to me?!’

She looked to her brother for assistance, but he was just as wide-eyed and slack-jawed as she was.

That reminded her.

She used her magic to close her mouth because the muscles there had apparently mutinied and ceased obeying conscious commands.

“I... I didn’t know...” she choked out at last.

“I know,” Cadance replied, “I wanted to tell you but there never seemed to be a good time...”

‘Wait... so you tell me now?! I’m dealing with a lot of stuff here. This isn’t exactly a “good time”!’

Twilight’s internal filter was still working and she thankfully hadn’t said any of that out loud. “I didn’t know you felt so strongly about... me. I mean, we did sort of have sex a few times, but... you have Shining and I didn’t think it meant... that.” She ran out of words here.

“Sex only has as much meaning as we give it,” Cadance explained, making a gradual return to her earlier self-sureness. “We’ve already been more... intimate... than I had any right to expect, and I never wanted to push you into something you were uncomfortable with, but... I’ve always been open to us being more.”

Twilight needed a drink of water, but in a self-defeating cycle, her throat was in no condition to make intelligible sounds to request one.

“I’m grateful for the relationship we have, and I don’t want us to lose that. Please understand, Twilight, I don’t expect you to marry me. Now or ever. I just thought you should know that... it’s an option.”

Twilight really needed some liquid now.

Much to her bewilderment, a glass of water was placed in her hooves. She didn’t question where it had come from, and simply gulped it down in one swig. “That’s good,” she judged, wiping her lips.

“You’re welcome,” Shining Armor told her.

“Oh... Thanks.”

“Are you alright?” two voices asked her simultaneously.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Twilight’s body slid down the headboard, taking one of the pillows with it, until she was lying on her back again. She drew a hoof to her chest, inhaled, then let out the breath as her forelimb extended out. “I just need a moment. I sorta... found out I was pregnant and had two ponies propose to me today. No biggie, though, right?” She chuckled.

Cadance grew a sheepish smile. “I guess I could’ve waited until morning to bring it up.”

“You think?” two voices asked her simultaneously.

Now that the initial shock was wearing off, Twilight could see the mare’s offer for what it really was: Flattering. Cadance was a princess – a title she had earned, not inherited – was universally beloved by her subjects, and had literally thousands of potential suitors, stallions and mares alike, who would give their left hind hoof for a chance just to spend a night with her, to say nothing of what they would do for the opportunity to wed her. She was kind, caring, helpful, respectful, intelligent, regal and yet humble. And though Twilight’s personal preferences leaned more toward stallions, she had no trouble admitting that Cadance was absolutely drop-dead sexy.

And she had just offered Twilight her hoof...

But the lesson from earlier had stuck: Twilight’s heart wasn’t for it.

“Cadance... I love you. And having a princess ask me to marry her... that’s something out of a fairy tale. But I always thought of you as a big sister.”

Suddenly it hit her. She burst out laughing.

“Twilight?”

“...Which means I must really, really like incest,” she declared giddily. “How else can you explain that I got a new sister and the first thing I did was to have a threesome with her and my brother?”

Twilight’s new sister could definitely see the humour in that. “Well, if anypony asks, you can tell them that I used my secret knowledge of the ways of love to seduce you.”

“The way I remember it, it was more of an accident. And you freaked out for a second when I, uh, you know... licked...”

Both mares now bore indecent grins.

“Maybe that’s just what I wanted you to think,” Cadance retorted as she leaned in, “and it was really my plan all along.”

“In that case,” Twilight’s forelimb hooked the alicorn’s neck, and brought her down for a quick kiss. “Thank you for seducing me.”

“Anytime, my incestuous little pony.”

“I have to say ‘no’ to the marriage thing, though.”

“I know. Don’t worry about it. I already have one spouse, so I’m not that desperate.”

They laughed, and the happy unicorn leaned back, rubbed her eyes, and yawned. “What time is it?”

“Three-thirty A.M.,” Shining Armor replied, drawing out the words disapprovingly.

“Is everypony ready to finally go to sleep?” his wife asked. “Hopefully before somepony else proposes to Twilight...”

“I think I’m too tired to sleep.” Twilight felt a twitch. “And the baby doesn’t seem to want to quiet down either.” She snorted. “Maybe you should sing us a lullaby or something...”

Cadance immediately took in a deep lungful of air.

“No, wait! I didn’t really mean that!”

“Hush now, quiet now”

“Cadance...!”

“It’s time to lay your sleepy head

Hush now, quiet now

It’s time to go to bed”

Twilight covered her face. “Ohhh, I can’t believe this... I’m way too old...”

“Hush now, quiet now

Close your sleepy eyes

Hush now, quiet now

My, how time sure flies”

All her resistance being futile, the unicorn capitulated.

She closed her eyes and began to sing, too.

“Drifting off to sleep

The day’s excitement behind you

Drifitng off to sleep

Let the joy of dreamland find you

“Hush now, quiet now

It’s time to lay your sleepy head

Hush now, quiet now

It’s time to go to bed”

Cadance had turned off the lights as the song finished, leaving only a trace of illumination coming in from the streetlights and cloud-diluted moon outside. Twilight could still see when she opened her eyes, but until they could adjust to the paucity of photons, everything was constructed of silhouettes.

“I’m still not asleep,” she informed everypony, half in victory, half in disappointment.

“But are you ready to go to sleep now?” Cadance asked, her smile plainly audible.

The darkness seemed very inviting. And warm, compared to the fresh snow Twilight knew to be outside. The bed was soft. “I... I think so. Yeah.”

“Well, then. C.T.S. okay with everypony?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Sure,” agreed Shining Armor.

“Alright. Good night, Shine. I love you.”

Twilight perceived the two ponies’ forms come together, lock muzzles for a few seconds, then release. “I– I love you, Cady. Good night.”

A moment later, Cadance was over her again. “Good night, Twilight. Love you.”

“I love you too, Cadance.”

She pressed her lips against Twilight’s, in a simple peck that lasted longer than a simple peck should – not that Twilight was complaining. It was familiar, intimate, soothing, and just the tiniest bit erotic.

In other words: Perfect.

The young princess lay down on Twilight’s right with a contented sigh.

Shining Armor was next. “Night, Twiley. Love ya. Sweet dreams.”

“Love you, B.B.B.F.F.”

He leaned down, and for a fraction of a fraction of an instant, they both froze, a flash of doubt in the stallion’s eyes that were mirrors to Twilight’s.

It passed, unacknowledged by either party. They kissed, lips shut yet soft and yielding and tender, and held against each other for a few seconds. His hoof brushed behind her ear; hers, down his neck and over his shoulder. Their horns touched.

They shouldn’t have hesitated. This was good. This was right.

The siblings shared a smile and rubbed noses as a little extra before Shining took his place on Twilight’s left.

“Um, Twilight?” That was Cadance.

“Hmm?”

“Can I?” she asked with the anxious hopefulness of a well-behaved filly pleading for a lollipop.

The request was confusing at first. Then Twilight saw where Cadance was pointing. “Oh. Uh... sure. Why not?”

Cadance moved down on the bed, placing her head level with Twilight’s belly. Her hoof granted it one final, gentle rub. “Good night, little one.” She kissed it with a properly quick peck. “Sweet dreams.”

Twilight wondered if a foal in the womb could actually dream.

As the sheets drew over her body, she felt herself effortlessly sinking below the surface of consciousness and into the blissful depths of unawareness, the worries and resolutions of the previous day set aside into a messy pile for Future Twilight to take care of. Present Twilight had accomplished much to reduce that pile, with a lot of help – and some hindrance – courtesy of her brother and former-foalsitter-turned-sister, and had certainly earned her rest.

The project she faced was a long-term one, still firmly in the “gathering requirements” stage.

Submerged in pleasant unconsciousness, Twilight was almost fully lost to the waking world, when, without warning, she kicked back up through the surface, and sat bolt upright in bed. She had an idea.

“Cadance!”

“Huh?” The alicorn beside her stirred. “What is it?”

“No. Cadance.”

On the other side of the bed, Shining Armor also began to rise, his horn softly illuminating the immediate surroundings.

“Twilight? What’s going on?”

They didn’t understand.

“No,” Twilight said, “I mean my daughter.” She could see the alicorn’s nonplussed expression clearly now, and suddenly felt self-conscious at what had just seemed the perfect notion. “I– I won’t, unless you say yes, and– and you don’t have to, but... if it’s okay...”

Cadance’s eyes slowly expanded as the meaning sunk in.

“I’d like to name her after you.”

The young princess’s eyes glistened as her hooves stuffed a gasp into her mouth. “Twilight...” she whispered.

“It– It’s just an idea. I mean if it’s weird or someth–”

Twilight was grabbed with forelegs and wings and magic, pulled into an embrace so complete that she almost panicked at the thought of being somehow absorbed by the larger mare. Such fears were unfounded, of course, and soon enough Cadance gently let her go.

“Oh, Twilight, I don’t know what to say...” she said, wiping at her eyes.

“Just say ‘yes’.”

“Yes!”

They hugged again, and kissed, and laughed, and hugged yet again.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me...” Shining Armor mumbled.

Lost in the moment, Twilight had nearly forgotten that there was a third pony in the room. “You... you don’t like it?” she asked, facing her brother.

“It’s a beautiful name, and I don’t see any problem with it,” the stallion said, looking reproachfully at Cadance, “but you just got a more enthusiastic ‘yes’ out of my wife than I did when I proposed to her.”

Dream (Part II)

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“Now, listen here, boy, and listen well. I know you think you’re hot stuff. I know you think you’re good enough for my daughter. You come waltzing into her life with your so-called good looks and smarmy little smile. You whisper a few sweet nothings in her ear and you tell her you love her, and you think she’s yours, just like that. She’s head over hooves for you, like every other girl you’ve been with and left behind when you got bored after you’d gotten what you wanted.

“But let me tell you, in words even a thick little upstart like you can understand: You’re nothing. You’re barely good enough to walk on the same dirt as her. You should feel lucky that you get to breathe the same air as she does. My little Twilight is the best little filly in all of Equestria. When she was in kindergarten, she was already smarter than you’ll ever be. She has more magic in her left ear than you have in your whole body. You don’t deserve her. You never will.

“But... you do have one thing going for you: You make her happy. And you managed to convince her that you’ll be able to keep it up for the rest of her life. That’s why she agreed to marry you. Obviously, she sees something in you that I don’t; all I see when I look at you is on overconfident little punk. Heavens know Twilight is perceptive. She’s more intelligent than I am a dozen times over. So... I’m going to trust her judgement, and I’m going to let you try your best to make her life better.

“Always remember, though: That’s the price you’re going to have to pay. Every day from now on, you will love her, cherish her, and respect her. You will never, ever hurt her. If you do – if you ever make her feel pain or grief – I promise you: I will make you wish you were dead. I don’t give a damn what it takes, I don’t care what it’ll cost me, but I will make you pay for hurting my daughter.

“So, this is your last chance, boy. Last opportunity to back out. Because once you join this family... there’s no getting out.”

The blue stallion’s intense golden eyes pierced into his target.

Shining Armor looked back, unimpressed. “Dad... how much have you had to drink?”

“Quiet, kid. I’ve been practising that speech for years and I’ll be darned if I’m going to let you ruin it for me.” The senior unicorn downed his glass, swallowed, and coughed. “But to answer your question, not nearly enough.”

The white pony groaned, working his hoof against his temple in a vain attempt to banish a growing headache. “Well, I suppose it’s a good sign your sense of humour is coming back.”

Nightlight frowned. “You think this is a joke?”

“Dad... you know I’d never hurt Twilight. I’d die to protect her. That’s always been true. And this... this doesn’t change anything. Not really.”

“Oh, so you didn’t really get her pregnant and now you’re not really marrying her? Good, I was worried there for a second.”

“Dad...”

“And stop saying that. You don’t get to call me ‘dad’ until you’ve officially become my son-in-law.”

Shining Armor shut his eyes and breathed, pressing a forehoof to his chest and extending it outwards as the air escaped his lungs. From his vantage point on the dais of Canterlot Castle’s Grand Hall, he observed the plentiful crowd being ushered into positions by a quartet of uniformed stallions briskly clearing stragglers off the red carpet of the centre aisle. Pale purple fabrics hung between the lofty columns, while small arrangements of various flowers, dominated by violet orchids, dotted the space. A plethora of candles held securely in sconces supplemented the dimming light of the sunset cascading through towering windows. The orchestra was in place and awaiting their cue.

Everything was almost ready.

“How do I look?” he asked, adjusting the cuffs of his uniform, though they were undeniably perfect.

“Like they haven’t kicked you out of the Guard yet,” Nightlight answered, taking another drink.

Shining huffed dismissively. “Probably just a hold-up with the paperwork.” His father’s inexplicably-refilled glass caught his attention. “Hey, this isn’t the reception. Where are you even getting those from?”

The elder unicorn shrugged. “That pink one over there,” he said, pointing out the most enthusiastic of the five bridesmaids taking up their positions on the dais stairs, “asked me what would cheer me up. I told her.”

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s just fruit punch,” he conceded with a hint of disappointment, “but I can pretend, can’t I?”

Father and son intently examined the floor at their hooves. Both opened their mouths to speak, tripping over each other’s truncated syllables before eventually settling on an order.

“Thanks, dad. For being here.” Shining smiled.

Nightlight smiled back. “Hey, I’m not going to miss my daughter’s wedding, am I? Even if it is...”

A pause.

A sigh.

“You know, your mother and I were always amazed at how close you and Twilight were growing up. We could tell there was something special between you. At the time, we thought we must’ve been doing something right.”

Shining spoke quietly. “You were.”

“I don’t pretend to understand it, but... I guess I don’t need to.” His expression steeled. “If this is what makes you and Twilight happy, and if Cadance approves, and if it matters so much that you’re willing to put your career on the line... then I have to believe it’s the right thing to do.” Without further fuss, he pulled his son into a hug. “You take care of her, alright?”

“I will,” the other stallion promised. “Will you... make sure mom’s okay?”

“Oh, she’s fine.” Nightlight loosely waved a hoof. “Can’t you tell she’s happy as a clam?”

Shining Armor looked back. “I’m not so sure about that...”

Under an archway constructed of greenery, ribbons, and blossoms, subject to the curious but silent and academically distant observation of a blue-coated, starry-maned alicorn princess, an oddly lopsided conversation was in full gallop.

“Oh, and I just know you two will be so happy together!” Twilight Velvet exuded with a beaming smile. How it had not yet cracked her face in half was a mystery.

Cadance’s smile, in stark contrast, was fighting for its life, supported by strained cheeks and under assault from a grim spark of fear in her eyes. “I’m sure we will, but there are really going to be three of–”

“My little Twilight, married! And to royalty, no less! I dreamed about this day for so long!”

“Well, Shining and I will–”

“Of course, I always pictured her with a handsome stallion; a prince or some such...”

“Technically, she is marrying a–”

“And to think, I never even suspected my daughter was into mares! What with her only ever talking about stallions, I could only assume.”

“I’m pretty sure Twilight prefers stallions. It’s really Shining that–”

“Oh, but don’t think I have anything against that! Not at all!” The pale grey-purple pony brought a hoof to her cheek with a gasp. “And, by Celestia, what a mare she picked! It’s hard to believe nopony else has scooped you up already, but I guess it was just meant to be!”

“Uh, I am married. To your–”

“And you look a gem, absolutely perfect, stunning in that gown!”

“This is the same wedding dress I wore when I marri–”

“Let me just say, it’s going to be wonderful having you as a daughter-in-law!”

“I’m already your daughter–”

“You’ll be the perfect family! You and my Twilight and, then, when Little Cadance arrives... Oh and it’s just so nice for a filly to be named after her mother – well, one of her mothers.”

The pink alicorn’s eyes frantically signalled for help from anypony nearby. “That’s, um... Twilight decided that–”

“And I just want you to know, I have no problem with you breaking from that whole ‘Twilight’-naming tradition. I only followed it on a whim, really; I’m hardly a stickler for that sort of thing. But maybe you and my Twilight would consider it for your second daughter?”

“Aaaahhhh....”

Just then – that is to say, not a moment too soon – Cadance’s rescuer arrived.

“Come dear,” Nightlight implored his wife, pulling her deftly away from her victim and down to the waiting crowd. “They’re about to start.”

Cadance exhaled a mixture of anxiety and relief.

“Congratulations to you both!” Twilight Velvet called back, manically waving a hoof.

“Thank you...”

After a few moments of blissful respite, Princess Luna approached her niece slowly, at long last deigning to speak. “Does that mare... understand what is about to take place here?”

“I... don’t know.”

“Are you alright?” Shining Armor asked as he took his place at his wife’s side. “It looked like you were hoping for that little talk to end. I’m sorry for not coming sooner.”

“I think your mother might need a little more time to adjust than we first thought,” the young princess stated in a cautiously diplomatic tone. Within seconds, all qualm in her features was discarded in favour of a serene smile. “I’m fine. In a few minutes, I’ll be married to a pony I love.”

“Again?” A lightly teasing smirk played on the stallion’s muzzle.

“Again,” Cadance confirmed.

“Nervous at all?”

“Not really. I have done this before,” she quipped. “You?”

Her husband weighed the question. “A little,” he said, the understatement clear.

“Don’t be. Everything’s going to be just fine.” The alicorn leaned into him comfortingly.

He nodded, gradually copying his mate’s placid smile. “Yeah... I think it will.”

Slowly, the sun’s final rays faded away from the high columns that had been their last refuge from the encroaching night, leaving dozens of small fires to hold their legacy as Celestia’s orb consummated its journey and finally lay to rest.

Luna offered a brief tilt of her head in approval at the sight. An unassuming look toward the orchestra was the indication to begin.

The choreography was spot-on. The unicorn guards at the doors parted the entrance with the first note of music. First to enter was the happy, bouncy flower girl trio of Sweetie Belle, Apple Bloom, and Scootaloo, generously spreading fragrant petals on the path. Behind them, drawing every pair of eyes from the hushed gathering, walked the very-blushing bride, Twilight Sparkle.

Her gown was purple – disproving some of the unsung lyrics of the ‘Bridle Chorus’ currently playing – trimmed in sapphire blue and radiant white, simple, smooth, and elegant with a short train. It was what she had always wanted. Rarity had, as always, outdone herself, and the fit was flawless in every respect.

Twilight’s heart thudded, her legs felt weak, her lungs laboured, and a perpetual urge to faint hung around her neck. Nevertheless, she made the journey down the aisle with perfect step and pace, her sparkling glass slippers moving as if they knew the way all on their own. In seemingly no time at all, she had climbed the stairs, passing by her friends – Rarity, Rainbow Dash, Applejack, Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy – all of them holding back joyful tears, all of them affording looks of unreserved pride and support. Opposite them stood a tuxedoed Spike, a velvet pillow with three golden rings held in his claws, bright eyes and bright smile upon his face.

Beneath the archway waited Shining Armor and Cadance, side-by-side, dressed very much for the occasion, and observing her like well-behaved foals waiting to open their Hearth’s Warming presents.

Luna smiled warmly, a slight flick of her eyes instructing Twilight to take her place to the left, while the other two ponies stood on the right.

The orchestra finished their tune.

Excited whispers circulated.

Luna opened her mouth to speak.

With no warning, the hall’s grand doors flung open, instantly dousing the room with a quiet so profound that even the flames of the candles cowered and paled in fearful reverence of the new arrival. Not a single voice gave its presence as Princess Celestia of Equestria entered, a sea of ponies parting before her with a perfect silence broken only by the rhythmic hoofsteps of the diarch upon plush, red carpet.

Her mane shimmered and flowed with an uncanny vigor, sparkling as if possessed of a starfield eerily reminiscent her sister’s. Her presence, and the pony herself, seemed to grow larger as she pressed forward. At moments, she would look aside to the gathered crowd, forcing individual ponies back with a dangerous glare. Her main focus, however, lay squarely on the four ponies atop the dais. She towered ominously over them even before ascending the final step to their level.

Her vision scanned each one in turn. Cadance and Shining Armor vacillated between looking straight back and shying away; finding their strength only to have it torn away again and again. Twilight urged herself to peer into her mentor’s eyes, and saw a storm there; lighting and thunder and howling winds to put the fear of life into anypony. She wanted to turn aside but could not, wanted to run but could not. That look had her trapped for as long as the princess desired.

After an eternity, Celestia’s gaze turned from Twilight to her own sister. Luna stood opposed, not an iota of fear anywhere in her being, stance firm, brows low and muzzle held high, the night sky of her mane roiling upward and sparking with energy, compensating for her smaller stature with pure force of presence – and succeeding.

“Sister,” the younger alicorn spoke, shattering the charged quietude of the room, “unless you are here to wish these ponies well, you are not welcome. This is a celebration of love and unity, not a place to diminish them on account of... politics.” She spat the final word.

“You would seek to banish me from the halls of my own palace?” Celestia’s voice was less than Luna’s in volume, but effortlessly matched it in authority.

“There are things even you cannot control, sister. This wedding will go on as planned, and you will not stop it,” Luna decreed. “Whatever the fallout, I shall bear it on my own wings. Leave, hide, if you so fear the public reprisal. Denounce me, us, this entire proceeding, but do not interfere.”

For an instant, the Sun Princess’ features softened, and a look of... sadness? shame?... darkened her face.

The Night Princess remained on guard.

“Luna...”

Her eyes downcast. “I still do not comprehend how you can be opposed to the love these ponies share. I had not thought you so... weak... to succumb to the prevailing vicissitudes of erotic vogue. Do the voices of fickle hypocrites and arrogant busybodies truly hold such sway over you that you would protest the magic of love itself to satisfy them?”

Celestia’s words lowered to nearly a whisper. “You think so poorly of me?”

“How can I not?!” Luna railed. “What other explanation have I for your shameful course of action in this matter?!”

The elder princess looked ready to hurl an equally-vicious counterpoint, but held back. She measured her words carefully. “I will not have an illegal wedding take place right under my nose. I am not fit to lead if I do.”

“Then make it legal,” Luna shot back, her words both challenge and plea.

Celestia’s eyes narrowed. “I just did.”

A square of parchment, royal seal visible, floated to the younger diarch. She absorbed its contents quickly, the defiance in her face rapidly giving way to proud satisfaction. She proffered the document to the other ponies for review. “Royal dispensation for first-degree consanguineous matrimony,” she announced, “granted to Twilight Sparkle and Shining Armor, by order of Her Royal Highness, Princess Celestia of Equestria.”

Looks of pure happiness tumbled between them. Luna seemed ready to laugh. Twilight felt ready to cry. Shining and Cadance looked ready to do both.

“Thank you, princess,” the young unicorn said, wiping at her eyes.

Celestia’s expression remained hard and immune to the mirth around her. Once more, she observed each pony one by one.

“My beloved sister.”

Luna looked back with a conciliatory smile.

“The honoured Captain of my Guard.”

Shining Armor saluted.

“My precious niece.”

Cadance bowed her head.

“My most faithful student.”

A single drop fell from Twilight’s cheek at the acknowledgement.

“You four are, without question, the ponies closest to me. I will be judged by the company I keep.” A pause, while the princess mulled something over. “So be it,” she declared at last. “I see now the bond between you is genuine. Whatever the consequences, you are strong enough to face them. Cadance, Shining Armor, Twilight... I wish you success and happiness in your new life together.” A tiny smile materialised on her muzzle. “It may be a little late, but you have my blessing.”

“You are not too late, sister. Though you did... cut it a little close,” Luna noted with a wry smirk. “We are about to begin.”

Celestia nodded, and quickly moved aside, taking up position at the midpoint of the steps, behind the bridesmaids. Twilight felt an aching in her chest, though it was a decidedly good ache. The sight of her mentor filled a hole that had been threatening to forever mar her memories of this moment.

The Princess of the Night cleared her throat, employing a somewhat less-intimidating version of the Traditional Royal Canterlot Voice as she addressed the happy crowd. “Subjects, friends, loved ones... On this night we gather to witness and celebrate the union of these three ponies, who have, time upon time, proven their love and dedication to each other. Against all odds and all opposition, their relationship has thrived and grown. In the finest example of ancient tradition, oft and unjustly derided in these modern times, they have chosen to select their life mates not from the strangers of the world, but from those closest to them; from their family. Too often we ponies seek out joy by attempting to acquire more than we have...” Here, Luna met her sister’s eyes meaningfully. “...instead of rightly treasuring that which we do. So, it is with great satisfaction that I stand here before you, ready to seal the souls of these ponies together, entwining their lives forever.”

The gathered attendees watched in joyful silence. Twilight found her mother wiping away tears; first her own, then her husband’s.

“Princess Cadance,” Luna continued, “do you accept Twilight Sparkle into your marriage and into your life, do you swear to love and cherish her, through times good and ill, do you entrust to her all that you have and all that you are, and do you promise, in witness of this gathering, to share with her your joys, your sorrows, your heart, and your husband?”

Cadance didn’t hesitate. “I do.”

“Shining Armor, do you accept Twilight Sparkle – your sister – into your marriage, do you swear to love and cherish her, through times good and ill, do you entrust her with all that you have and all that you are, and do you promise, in witness of this gathering, to share with her your joys, your sorrows, your heart, and your wife?”

Liquid pooled in the stallion’s eyes. “I do.”

At last, the nocturnal alicorn faced Twilight. “Twilight Sparkle, do you accept Shining Armor and Cadance into your life? Do you swear to love and cherish them both, through times good and bad? Do you trust them with all that you have, all that you are? Do you promise, in witness of this gathering, to share with them your joys, your sorrows, and all your heart?”

The young unicorn’s chest thudded, the pounding in her ears making it difficult to hear. She was terrified and ecstatic all at once, frightened beyond reason of what was to come but certain like never before that it was the best thing to ever happen to her. Other moments in her life – her first successful spellcast, her acceptance into Celestia’s School, her discovery of the magic of friendship – competed for significance, but all fell short of the mark. This moment, held together by two little words, would define both her past and her future like nothing else.

“I do.”

Luna beamed. “Then by my authority as Princess Co-Regnant of Equestria, I pronounce you wed. May friendship and joy be your eternal companions. May your nights and days in this world be numerous. May the stars guide you fortuitously down the path that lies before you. And may the strength of your union serve as inspiration and hope to those around you. Shining Armor, Mi Amore Cadenza, Twilight Sparkle, you may now seal your bond.”

Twilight and Cadance embraced and kissed first, to the whooping cheer of the crowd. Shining Armor was next, pressing his lips to his sister’s – for the very first time openly, brazenly, in public – drawing out further approval from the gathering. Finally, Cadance and Shining kissed each other, reaffirming their love.

Celestia was smiling. Luna was laughing outright. The crowd was whistling, hollering, and applauding as confetti and streamers flowed from above. Twilight’s friends were speaking their congratulations – Rainbow from the air, Pinkie between elated bounces, the rest from all around – and her parents were in each other’s forelimbs, weeping in joy.

Twilight felt her life fall into completion. She had passed a test; not of achievement or of effort, but of her very person. She had bared herself for judgement and been found worthy. Worthy of respect, worthy of friendship, worthy of love. Everypony that mattered to her was there with her, supporting her, accepting her, and the future could not be brighter.

It was perfect.

“Another kiss, Twiley?” her brother offered.

Why not?

Their muzzles met once again, the sounds of the crowd rising into an indistinguishable, all-present din, urging her on. She kissed passionately now, open-mouthed, exploring her brother’s tongue, relishing in the feel of his warmth, his scent, the taste of his flesh, the tickling sharpness of his fangs...

Fangs?

She pulled away. The creature that stood before her wasn’t her brother. That was logical; her brother didn’t have fangs.

Or insect wings. Or holes in his legs. Or segmented eyes. Or black, chitinous skin.

Changelings did.

She was looking at a changeling.

“Something wrong, Twiley?” the changeling asked.

She pointed with a shaking hoof. “You– you’re...”

“Oh, this?” he asked nonchalantly, lifting a perforated foreleg. “We’re married now. There doesn’t seem to be any point in pretending.”

“Cadance?!” Twilight called, turning to her former foalsitter.

A tall, slender changeling princess stood in the formerly pink alicorn’s place, her insectoid wings glistening in the light, her long, cerulean hair framing her black features. Her pupils had transformed into catlike, elongated ovals, though the irises retained their familiar violet hue, and a jagged dark blade substituted the regular, unassuming spiral of her horn. “It’s okay, Twilight,” Cadance’s reverberant voice said. “We won’t hurt you. You’re our family now. A part of our hive. We don’t harm our own.”

Twilight’s body whipped around. Her friends were not there. Instead, three drones stood on the steps, a fourth was hopping up and down giddily, and another was hovering in the air with forelegs crossed and a smug look. “Pretty cool, huh, Twi?”

Her sight then turned to the crowd, drawn by dozens of bursts of green flames, as one pony after another dropped their disguise to reveal a changeling. She had no trouble finding her parents – not really her parents, she concluded – they were the two drones still hugging close together with looks of pride, one dabbing the other’s tear-stained face with a cloth.

“Are you afraid?” Luna, now a changeling princess herself, asked calmly, the echo in her voice peculiarly appropriate.

“N– no,” Twilight replied hesitantly. “I’m not afraid.” Her heart beat... normally. Her breaths were regular. Her coat was dry. She felt no panic. She meant it.

Why wasn’t she afraid?

Around her was an entire army’s worth of creatures whose purpose in life was to feed on ponies. Twilight was still a pony – she verified it by holding out her own hoof and quickly casting an illusion-cancelling spell. A lone pony in the midst of a changeling infestation should have been terrified.

The creature that used to be Celestia approached, smiling gently. “Good. You have nothing to fear here. We only want your love.”

“Love us,” the changeling Shining Armor said, “and we will protect you... and your daughter. Live with us, Twiley. Accept us.”

“We meant those vows,” the changeling Cadance assured, “we will cherish you as you cherish us. We will give you everything you need. You’ll be happy.”

“I do so hope you appreciate the advantages of this arrangement,” the changeling Rarity added.

The airborne drone grinned from above. “You gotta admit, Twi, this wedding just got way more awesome!”

“Oooh, this calls for a ‘Twilight-just-joined-the-hive’ party!”

“Hold up, y’all. I reckon the poor girl wasn’t countin’ on her special day bein’ this life-changin’. Take yer time, Twi. We won’t force ya.”

“Oh, Twilight, we– we’d love it if you stayed with us... um, if– if that’s alright with you.”

The former-Shining Armor nuzzled her belly. “Think about it, Twiley. You and Little Cadance will be royalty to us. There’s nothing we won’t do for you.”

The former-Cadance caressed her from the other side, pressing cheek-to-cheek. “Love is never a taboo in the hive. It is the most valuable thing we have; there’s no shame in it. We accept you, and your child.”

“Be with us.”

“Love us.”

Twilight looked around. Excited buzzing and expectant, fanged smiles were everywhere. She was the centre of attention – though not in the manner of cornered prey. She felt genuinely adulated. The offer tempted her. An easy life. No shame. No hiding. And Little Cadance... her life would be that of a princess.

The two changelings she had just sworn to love waited with hopeful eyes.

She had married them. It had been a lie but... had it, really?

What did it matter what they looked like, or what their names were?

Twilight wasn’t so shallow of a pony to make such minor details deal-breakers.

It didn’t matter.

What mattered was that she had promised to love them.

She loved them.

“Okay,” Twilight said, smiling at her new family.

Author's Notes:

Thanks go out to my wonderful prereaders, Journeyman and AnonponyDASHIE.

• While this entire story is meant to be told from Twilight's perspective, the first half of this part takes place without her present. My justification for this is that it's a dream; it's entirely possible to dream about events that don't include oneself. (I have dreams like this on occasion.)

• The Luna here is not intended to be "dreamwalker Luna". The basic idea for this chapter was in place before "Sleepless in Ponyville" aired. I wrote Luna as simply a character in Twilight's dream; no more, no less. That said, if any of my readers choose to interpret her differently, I have no objections.

• Poor Spike. He was utterly forgotten, and his only mention was a last-minute addition. I just didn't have anything for him to do.

Dream (Part III)

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Twilight woke up with a shaft of sunlight rudely poking her in the face, stinging her eyes even through tightly-shut lids. She blocked it out with a lethargic foreleg, and gradually blinked herself to full consciousness. Her entire body felt... good. Comfortable, rested, in need of a proper morning stretch but otherwise strong and ready to take on the day.

...In five more minutes.

The window through which the unwelcome sunbeam had entered faced south, so its presence allowed a fairly accurate estimate of the hour. It was very late morning; probably close to noon. The unicorn quieted the alarm in her head that told her she should have been awake long ago, organising, studying, researching, doing something. Her entire schedule would need to be reworked anyway, and taking time to be with Cadance and Shining Armor was well worth the academic disruption. Princess Celestia doubtless expected it at this point.

‘Relax,’ said the voice of reason.

She yawned, the motion of her jaw bringing to attention some kind of cool moistness against her cheek in contrast to the otherwise pleasant warmth everywhere else. That wouldn’t ordinarily be a cause for concern; Twilight tended to drool whenever she slept on her side. For this exact reason, she kept an ample supply of fresh pillowcases at home, and she knew that Shining Armor did much the same. It was apparently a family trait.

The problem she faced now was that, as the unicorn noted, she had not drooled onto a pillow. At some point during her sleep, she had taken to spooning against Cadance, the smaller pony ironically acquiring the role of the “big spoon”, and had consequently laid her head into the soft tricolours of Cadance’s well-styled and rose-fragranced mane.

Which she had then unconsciously soaked with her spit.

‘Maybe she won’t notice...’ Twilight thought after rejecting the idea of somehow cleaning the liquid before Cadance awoke. The most viable option – a dehydration spell – would still leave the alicorn’s mane matted and risked doing actual damage to her coiffure. She could almost hear Rarity’s horrored gasp at the thought. A groan escaped her. ‘No, I’ll just... offer to wash her hair or something. I can do that. It’ll be fine.’

Twilight Sparkle cleaned up her messes.

Twilight Sparkle was a responsible pony.

She assessed her surroundings more thoroughly. The bedroom was as she remembered it; spartan in its furnishings; four off-white walls, wooden-beamed ceiling, solid oak bed, simple dresser with mirror in one corner, and wardrobe in another. The room was Shining Armor in a nutshell; fit-for-purpose – though there were a hoofful of concessions to Cadance’s presence, mostly in the form of sheer, lacy, frilly fabrics hanging over the window and adorning the bed that the stallion could never have picked on his own.

Shining Armor himself, however, was nowhere to be found, much to his sister’s consternation. She reached out for the spot where he had lain that night, and found it cool to the touch. The house was silent, disregarding the sounds of ponies milling about on the streets outside that filtered through into the space.

‘Where did he go?’ she asked herself quietly. That the military-disciplined pony had risen earlier than she was not unexpected, but she had hoped to wake up to him somewhere nearby – if not outright snuggling her.

She took comfort in the fact that she was far from alone. She turned back to Cadance, placing a hoof on her side, just above the wing, and gave a delicate shove. “Wake up, sleepy head,” she cooed.

“Hmmm? That’s my line...” the alicorn replied with a yawn and a stretch before turning over, smiling. “Good morning. Feeling better, I see.”

“Much,” Twilight answered, now in possession of her own beaming smile. “Thanks again for everything. Yesterday, I was so... afraid. You... you have no idea how much you helped.”

“It was my pleasure. You know I always like to see you happy.”

They brought their muzzles together for a kiss. Cadance made an odd, unpleasant humming sound, and pulled away sooner than her partner would have liked. She made a sour face.

“Twilight, no offense... but you have really bad morning breath.”

The unicorn covered her mouth. “Sorry,” she mumbled, ears drooping. “I forgot to brush or floss before going to bed, and that allows odour-causing bacteria to build up during the night. I usually remember, but yesterday was pretty... busy.” She ran her tongue along her teeth. They felt unpleasantly fuzzy.

Deciding to shift away from the topic of oral hygiene, she looked behind her again. “Say, do you know where Shining Armor went? He wasn’t here when I woke up.”

The missing stallion’s spouse lifted her head, confirming that the third pony was indeed lacking. One side of her mouth pulled back in thoughtful scrutiny. “Hmm. Maybe it finally hit him that he’s going to be a father. He couldn’t handle the responsibility, got scared, and ran away, abandoning us.”

Twilight laughed openly at the preposterousness of the idea. The only way that could be true is if Discord had started running amok again, and the undeniably peaceful morning claimed otherwise. “Yeah, right. Seriously, though, you don’t know where he is?”

“No, but I’m sure he’ll be back soon.” The mare was utterly unshaken in her faith of her husband’s eventual return.

“I just hope he hasn’t gone and done something stupid, like talk to Princess Celestia about marrying me...”

“Shine may not be the sharpest sword, but he’s not that clueless. He wouldn’t do something like that without talking it over with us first.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right...” Twilight sighed, losing herself in thought.

Cadance observed her carefully. “Something you want to talk about?”

The younger mare shrugged. “Sort of. I had a weird dream.”

“What was it about?”

She paused, but only briefly. Honesty came easily when speaking to Cadance. “We were getting married. All three of us; you, me, and Shining. All our friends were there. Princess Celestia wasn’t really happy at first but she ended up coming around. My dad was cracking jokes and my mom was in denial about the whole thing... and Princess Luna was leading the ceremony.”

Cadance listened intently, her expression neither pleased nor displeased; just genuinely interested. When Twilight stopped her recountal to take a breath, the alicorn waited patiently for her to continue.

“So, we got married, and everypony was really happy for us, but then... they all turned into changelings. Hundreds of them. So did you and Shining, and Celestia and Luna. Everypony was a changeling except me.”

“That sounds like a nightmare.”

Twilight’s brows furrowed. “That’s the thing; I don’t think it was. I was never scared.”

“Oh?”

“That’s what makes it so weird. The changelings didn’t want to hurt me. They said that they’d accept me and Little Cadance and take care of us as long as I gave them my love. That I’d never have to worry about anything. And... and I believed them.” She offered Cadance a minute to absorb these facts before asking the question. “What do you think it all means?”

The young princess stared up at the ceiling in thought. “Dreams aren’t really my talent. You’d have to ask aunt Luna for an expert opinion. But she did tell me once that nopony can interpret a dream as well as the dreamer. What do you think it means?”

The unicorn scratched idly behind her ear. “Maybe it means... I’m worried that everypony will betray me if they find out the truth? They’ll stop being the ponies I know and become... evil?”

“But you said the changelings told you that they didn’t want to hurt you. Were they lying?”

“How would I know that?”

Cadance smiled again. “Because it was your dream.”

That reasoning was surprisingly sound. Twilight’s own mind had created the entirety of that dream; every character in it was just a manifestation of some part of herself. She did know.

“The changelings weren’t lying,” she realised. “They were serious. They just cared about my giving them love. And... I was okay with that. They weren’t who they seemed to be at first, but in the end it didn’t matter because... because we all focussed on what was really important to us and could live together despite our differences?” Her face scrunched up in confusion. That last part sounded like it could be a friendship lesson, but it wasn’t altogether clear if it was applicable to her current situation.

“Of course,” Cadance added, “the other thing aunt Luna said is that some dreams are just a bunch of random happenings without any real meaning.”

The two mares glanced at each other. They both laughed.

Shining Armor, Cadance, weddings, changelings... all these elements were in close proximity in Twilight’s brain. It was all too likely that her subconscious had just pulled them haphazardly from the shelves of her memories and tossed them at the unicorn’s hapless conscious mind, which had then tried to make sense of the senseless.

“If you ask me, you need to simplify,” the winged mare said. “Forget who or what exactly was in the dream. You dreamed about a situation where something happened that was very different from what you expected to happen, that looked scary at first, but it turned out alright in the end. Does that remind you of anything?”

A blink of cognisance. “Wow. That does make sense. My studies, the pregnancy, being a mother... Hey! I thought you said interpreting dreams wasn’t your talent!”

Cadance smirked mischievously. “I never said I couldn’t try.”

Twilight’s eyes narrowed. “Or maybe it’s a lot more obvious than that. My subconscious is warning me that somepony close to me is a changeling.” She looked askance at her bedmate.

“What? Me?” the alicorn asked incredulously.

“There’s only one way to know...”

Cadance sighed as her eyes upturned playfully. “Fine...”

The covers exploded outward as both ponies jumped to their hooves, legs bent and bodies low, ears erect and grinning muzzles inches apart.

“Sunshine, sunshine, ladybugs awake! Clap your hooves and do a little shake!”

Having completed their childhood-dance-turned-identity-check, they collapsed back into two happy heaps of purple and pink pony, legs kicking upward in tune with their giggles.

“Okay, okay,” Twilight conceded, “You’re the real Cadance.”

“You can move really well,” the other mare observed through the trailing end of her laughter, her gaze on the unicorn’s still-quivering middle. “Are you sure you’re okay with jumping around like that?”

“I’m not even seven months in. I’m pretty sure I’m just carrying low, so I look heavier than I really am. One of the nurses guessed that I was at eight months.” Twilight frowned. Personal appearance was never her top priority, but the comment still left her a little insulted. “I can feel the extra weight, but moving around is still pretty easy.” She got back up and hopped on the bed a few times to illustrate, sending pillows tumbling to the floor. “See? I can jump and run like always.”

Cadance’s eyes bounced with her, and the mare chuckled. “Enjoy it while you can, but... be careful,” she warned.

Instantly, Twilight stopped. “Oh, right. I wouldn’t want to have an accident, like when...” At once, something gripped her heart, catching the air in her lungs.

“What is it?”

She forced a few deliberate breaths to calm herself. “The... the doctors said she was okay...”

“Twilight, did something happen?” Concern filled Cadance’s voice.

“I... I didn’t know at the time...” Twilight slowly relived the memory in her mind’s eye. “The Crystal Empire? The games inspector? We did this routine to impress her where I stood on top of Applejack and Pinkie and... I fell off. More than once. It hurt.” Her hoof was massaging the swell, suddenly longing to feel a reassuring kick from its occupant.

She got it.

“I... I was almost four months then...” Tears of guilt were already filling the reservoir in anticipation. “If... if I only knew...”

“It’s okay, Twilight.” Cadance was at her side, nuzzling comfortingly behind her ear. “You had no way of knowing...”

“Yes I did! Why didn’t I even bother to check? A home pregnancy test is cheap and takes – what, five, ten minutes? I couldn’t fit that into my schedule?! I just trusted that the spell would work. I should’ve known better. Any spell can fail.”

The other mare said nothing, merely holding Twilight close.

She sniffled. “And on top of everything it was incest... Homozygosity isn’t healthy. It’s only first-generation, so the chance of serious anomalies is low, and the doctors couldn’t find anything wrong, but still...” She swallowed the lump in her throat that seemed to have become a regular part of her diet of late. “Cadance... what if... what if she has problems?” The words came with difficulty, and had to be coerced from her throat. “What if she... isn’t normal?”

She expected another soothing reassurance; to be told that everything would be alright and that she had nothing to worry about. Instead, Cadance’s hoof nudged her head to face hers, confronting her with demanding eyes.

“What if she isn’t normal, Twilight? What will you do then?”

The directness of the question left the unicorn stunned, though her recovery was quick. She was still fighting back tears as she answered. “Then... then I’ll do the best that I can for her. I’ll give her whatever she needs... And– and I’ll love her just the same.”

Cadance gripped her. A hug from Cadance always made the tears go away. Always.

“And that,” the young princess said, “is how I know you’ll make a wonderful mother.”

The embrace held for a minute. Or two. However long it was, it was exactly as long as Twilight needed it to be.

Cadance let go, allowing her smile to call forth its twin from the unicorn. “Now, I think we’ve been in bed long enough. And one of us really needs to go brush her teeth.”

Twilight was considerate enough to cover her mouth as she giggled. The smell attacked her nostrils, verifying the accuracy of Cadance’s admonition. She hopped carefully off the bed and, after stretching out her limbs two at a time, made for the bathroom.

The bathroom was, in a word, white. (A tired joke between her and her brother revolved around pretending that he had turned invisible whenever he entered the space.) Between the double sinks, she spotted a tube of toothpaste and two toothbrushes – one blue, one pink – in a holder. Presented with such a conundrum, she pulled open the nearby medicine cabinet, not really expecting the solution to still be there.

It was there.

They’d kept it, even though she hadn’t been here for months. Her magic levitated the purple toothbrush, and applied a generous helping of minty paste before getting furiously to work on her teeth.

Cadance joined her at the other sink. It was possibly one of the most mundane moments conceivable; mind-numbingly ordinary in its banality; standing there in front of a mirror, two mares brushing their teeth without saying a word to each other – or at all, for that matter.

Why were they both grinning, then?

The alicorn finished with her chore first, leaving Twilight still scrubbing at her tongue – a book had said that was the most effective way to combat bad breath.

“I’m going to take a shower,” the pink mare informed, then looked back over her shoulder suggestively. “Would you like to join me?”

“Sure!” Twilight said, having just finished with a generous rinsing. “I’m pretty sure I could use one, too.” Then the true implication of what Cadance was offering sunk in. “Uh... Just a shower?” she requested sheepishly, her ears flat. “I’m not really up for... sex.”

If the larger mare was in any way disappointed, she didn’t show it. “Just a shower,” she confirmed with a tiny nod as they both stepped into the spacious stall, closing the sliding glass partition behind them. “Don’t worry. The rumours of my rampant nymphomania have been greatly exaggerated.”

Twilight had no time to appreciate literary wit; Cadance had just obtained a shower cap and was in the process of putting it on.

“You’re not going to wash your hair?” she questioned.

“No, not today.”

“Uh... you probably should.”

“Why?”

Twilight rubbed the back of her neck, trying to put on a big grin which was utterly failing to persuade anypony. “Oh, no reason.”

The princess didn’t need to say a thing; the young unicorn’s own guilt quickly did her in.

“I... I drooled in it.” Her cheeks began to burn. That had been happening a lot lately. She wished she had a long mane to hide behind. “Sorry.”

Cadance’s eyebrows rose. She reached back, and within a few moments located the sticky, wet, and morning-breath-scented spot.

She sighed, discarding the shower cap. “It’s okay, Twilight.”

“No, it’s... it’s not!” The unicorn stated forcefully. “I keep screwing up and making a mess and you just keep cleaning it up and forgiving me. It’s not fair!”

“Twilight, it’s just my mane. I’ve had plenty worse in it.”

“It’s not just about your mane, it’s about this whole thing...” Her hoof scuffed on the tile.

“Everypony makes mistakes.”

Twilight wasn’t convinced. She decided to abandon that line of thought anyway; ruminating on her failures certainly wasn’t helping matters. “I– I’ll help you wash it. If you want me to.”

Cadance smiled, wide and honest. “I’d love that. But I get to do you first.”

“Uh...”

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” she said with a flick to Twilight’s ear as she turned on the flow of water. “I meant that I’ll help you wash first, then you’ll help me.”

“Right.”

They waited for the cascading liquid to reach a comfortable temperature, nudging the knobs to reach that elusive state where neither pony would shy away from the stream. The shower nozzle was mobile, attached to a long, flexible metal hose, made to easily reach any part of a pony’s anatomy. Cadance’s first act was to bring it directly over Twilight’s head, soaking the unicorn’s mane to the roots.

“I just love making you totally wet like this...”

“Okay, that one was on purpose!” Twilight cried.

The alicorn’s eyelids lowered slyly. “You think?”

Twilight tried to grumble but couldn’t stop it from turning into a laugh instead.

A generous dollop of shampoo plopped into her mane, and a pair of hooves began lathering it in with vigor. Her eyes closed in avoidance of the stinging flow of soapy liquid soon to come their way. She leaned her head down and forward to better present her crest and poll, and didn’t resist the little moan that bubbled forth when Cadance rubbed the latter.

There was something special about letting another pony wash her hair. To have another set of hooves massaging her like this was both intimate and physically comforting, but it also struck something inside her; it made her feel cared for and wanted.

“Cadance?”

“Yes?”

“Did you really mean it? What you said last night?” she asked. “Would you really marry me?”

Cadance’s hooves stopped. “In a heartbeat,” she answered in a low voice, and then resumed her task.

This was a puzzle the young pony was determined to solve. “Why?” She was hit with a fresh stream as the shampoo was washed away. Soapy water rolled down her muzzle and off her chin. “You’re a princess. I’m just...”

“...a regular old unicorn?” Cadance guessed, expertly directing the water around Twilight’s ears while avoiding spraying any of it inside.

“I was going to say that I’m just... me.”

The deep sapphire blue mane got a final once-over with the showerhead, the first stage of its cleaning process now complete. Twilight wiped at her brows and carefully parted her lids. She could see Cadance looking at her with those large, infinitely kind violet eyes of hers.

“Exactly,” the princess stated.

“Huh?”

“Do you know what you are, Twilight?”

“What do you mean?”

With the lightest touch from Cadance, the unicorn’s body spun around, allowing her companion to begin working more shampoo into her tail. The showerhead had been placed back into its holder above, left to cascade warm water onto her back. “I knew you were special from the very first day I saw you as a little filly,” Cadance explained. “You were so focussed, so determined, so smart... so stubborn. And after all these years, you’ve grown into a strong, beautiful, astonishing young mare. You’ve accomplished so much, and you’ve exceeded every expectation I had for you. You’re one of the most... No, you are the most amazing pony I’ve ever known.”

Something caught in Twilight’s throat again. “You... you can’t really mean that?!”

A pat on the rump told her to turn back around and allow her tail to be rinsed by the falling water. Meanwhile, Cadance placed her hooves into the unicorn’s wet locks, spreading out some kind of flowery-smelling mane conditioner. Lilac, if Twilight was not mistaken; not something the younger mare would ordinarily choose, but pleasing nonetheless.

“You’re intelligent, and you love to learn. When you apply yourself, there’s no problem you can’t solve. That stubbornness of yours, it makes you dedicated. You don’t give up, you persevere no matter the odds, and you succeed because of it, where any other pony would fail.” Cadance’s touch shifted; no longer simply administering hair product – though it was still doing that – but becoming closer to an affectionate caress of Twilight herself. “If it hadn’t been for you, I might still be in those caves... or I would’ve died there. You’re so brave.”

“What...? I’m not brave...”

“Yes, you are. You’re incredibly brave. How many other ponies would stand hoof-to-hoof with Nightmare Moon? With Discord? An entire changeling army and their queen? Should I go on?”

“Those times, I didn’t have a choice.”

“Yes, you did. Every time, you could have run away; hid like everypony else. You could’ve given up. You didn’t.”

Twilight was having difficulty looking the other mare in the eyes. She was grateful for the excuse to shut her own while Cadance rinsed her mane again, and jumped on the opportunity to turn away so that her tail could be conditioned.

“Most ponies don’t know this about you, not unless they get to know you. You put up this front; this image of a mare who cares only about her studies and schedules and plans. But you’re willing to drop all of it to help a friend, or anypony in need. Ask yourself this: Have you ever refused to help a pony who needed it?”

Twilight remained silent.

“You care about other ponies. More than you ever let on. Probably more than you realise. All those times you stood up to dangerous villains, all the times you refused to give up, all the times you put your life and your future on the line to help others? You did it all because deep down you’re one of the most kindhearted, selfless ponies I’ve ever met. And not just in fair weather, but in the darkest times that put your character to the ultimate test. You have no idea how rare that is, Twilight.

“You’ve made some mistakes; everypony has. There are no exceptions. Sometimes you need a little help figuring out what the right thing to do is. But when you do... there is no power in the universe that can stop you.”

Twilight didn’t know how to react. She had hardly ever received this kind of heartfelt praise targeted at her very soul, and never in such burdening quantity. She didn’t agree with it, yet didn’t want to seem ungrateful or argumentative or flippant. But Cadance had just finished with her tail and continuing to stand with her back turned couldn’t be anything other than insulting. She eventually rotated, trying to stay neutral and composed.

“And that’s why I would marry you.”

She wanted to tell her how wrong she was, how Twilight Sparkle wasn’t nearly as good a pony as she thought, how her greatest accomplishments were a combination of having loyal friends and sheer luck, how she had access to privileges and resources few others could dream of, how often she succumbed to her own fears and conceits, how her failures had been all too easily forgotten and forgiven, and how she didn’t deserve to be with a pony as wonderful as Cadance.

She couldn’t say all that, though.

“I... I love you,” she managed at length. That, at least, was true. “Maybe not the same way you feel about me, but... I do. I know it. I love you, Cadance...” Her dripping forelock provided the illusion of tears rolling down her cheeks. She could only hope that there weren’t any real ones mixing in. “I’m sorry it’s not enough...”

“It’s enough,” came the whisper. “It’s more than I ever hoped we would be.”

They brought their foreheads together, horn-to-horn, exchanging unhurried breaths in the artificial downpour.

Cadance pulled away first, giving a quick shake of the head to dismiss both the moment and the water accumulated on her muzzle. “Now, we still need to clean your coat. Do you want the separate conditioner or the two-in-one?” she queried, examining the selection on the shelf.

Both choices were extravagant from Twilight’s perspective; her purple fur was usually treated to a simple body wash or even just plain soap at home. “The two-in-one,” she decided.

A zig-zag of goop landed on her back, and Cadance got to work quickly, lathering up her neck and shoulders, then her barrel, and finally her hindquarters, the alicorn’s forehooves moving in smooth, deliberate circles. For Twilight, having her mane and tail washed had been a touch intimate. This was notably more so – especially since Cadance had foregone using a washcloth or sponge, opting for skillful direct contact. The feel of those hooves massaging every part of her body left Twilight riding an indulgent high that the best spas couldn’t rival. It was also nostalgic; the last time she had been washed like this was as a little filly.

She had heard of children developing crushes on their sitters. The reverse was rarer, and typically far less... healthy.

“Cadance?”

“Yes?”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” she asked, hoping the other mare wasn’t trying to avoid the topic. “About how you felt?”

“I knew it wasn’t completely mutual,” Cadance answered without hesitation, “I didn’t want to scare you off. I was already surprised that you were willing to go as far as you did.”

“Didn’t you say honesty was the most important thing in polyamorous relationships? That we should be open with our feelings even if it might not be easy?”

The alicorn paused. “You’re right,” she said after a moment, her tone contrite. “I should’ve said something earlier.” She met the young mare’s gaze with practiced puppy-dog-eyes. “Forgive me?”

Twilight smiled despite herself. She still felt like any apologies should be headed the other way. “Sure.”

Cadance began cleaning her underside, her motion veering especially gentle at Twilight’s swollen belly.

“And I just had it figured out, too...” the unicorn complained.

“What?”

“What we were. Are. Were.” She frowned. “How to label our relationship.”

“And what’s that?”

An uninvited smirk snuck onto her face. “‘Sisters-in-law-with-benefits’.”

Cadance chuckled. “Cute. If that’s what you want us to be, then I’m perfectly happy with that.”

“But all that stuff you said...?”

“I said I was open to us being more. But the last thing I want is to pressure you into a relationship you’re not comfortable with. My only hope is that wherever we end up... we can stay friends.”

Twilight nodded resolutely. “Always.”

By this point, Cadance had progressed all the way down to the unicorn’s fetlocks. She brought the nozzle in again, giving a thorough rinsing to the smaller pony’s frame, paying special attention to her undercarriage, where the normal shower from above might miss. It tickled, just a bit. “Now lift your tail?”

Twilight complied before she even discerned what the request implied. Her entire body tensed as warm water hit just below her dock, splashing against her anus, then her vulva, Cadance touching her folds to properly get into every crevice...

And almost as soon as it began, it was over. Cadance had been quick, efficient, and considerate – she had even adjusted the water pressure from a jet to a less intense stream to keep Twilight comfortable. There had been nothing sexual about it. She really was just cleaning.

“Did I surprise you?” the mare inquired, noting the other’s nonplussed expression. “I did ask.”

“I– I know. I wasn’t paying attention.” Twilight exhaled, trying for an assuaging smile. “It’s fine. Thank you.” It was patently ridiculous to be embarrassed about having one’s backside cleaned by another, trusted, pony. Due to natural equine anatomy, it was the most effective way. And considering what other things she had allowed Cadance to do to her back there...

“I think you’re all set,” the alicorn judged.

“Okay. My turn. I mean, your turn. I mean... time for us to switch...”

Another chuckle from Cadance. “The blue bottle is the shampoo. It’s good for mane and coat. Don’t bother with conditioner; I have to use a special leave-in treatment,” she instructed with a tired roll of her eyes. “I need to wait until I’m mostly dry to apply it.” From the sound of her voice, she wasn’t in the slightest measure eager to do so.

“You don’t like it?”

“Part of my job is looking like a princess. It’s especially important now that I represent the entire Crystal Empire. I have to look my best at all times. Even with a whole team of beauticians, it gets to be a lot of work.”

Within seconds Twilight had used the showerhead to rinse out the worst of her salivary deposit. “Sorry again about the drool...”

“Don’t worry about it,” Cadance replied as nearly a quarter bottle of shampoo squirted onto her mane, back, and tail. “I told you I’ve had worse. I was a foalsitter for years, remember?”

Her young helper began to knead the luxurious mass of pink, purple, and gold. She heard Rarity’s voice again, fawning over such luscious locks. “Worse? Like what?”

“Bodily fluids. Worse than spit.” The larger pony brought her head lower to provide better access, though the unicorn still had to stretch on her hindlegs, lest the manetips drag on the shower floor. “You really want to hear the details?”

Twilight made a disgusted face. “No, it’s fine.” She continued to gently work on the bounty of hair, hoping she was at least doing a passable job. With a mane this long, tangles and knots could be a problem, and her own go-to solution – simply cutting them out if they couldn’t be quickly banished by a brush – wasn’t an option here. It took a while, and some cheating with magic when hooves just weren’t precise enough, but eventually she was satisfied with her efforts, and moved on to Cadance’s supple frame.

“I like your wings,” she said absentmindedly, spreading the appendages in question. Knowledge of proper pegasus wing care was something she lacked, but virtually everypony knew that feathers should never be soaped or shampooed; simply rinsed with clean water.

“Maybe someday you’ll get a pair of your own,” Cadance suggested, “the way I got my horn.”

Twilight snorted. “Yeah, right. Like that’ll ever happen.”

She made quick progress, forbearing the aid of a sponge; she was obstinate in delivering the same personal touch she had received. Carefully, measuredly, methodically, her hooves traced the alicorn’s aesthetically pleasing curves, leaving a trail of translucent bubbliness against pink fur, on her belly, her flanks, down her thighs, now over her toned rump...

The task made it impossible not to stare.

Cadance was a lean pony; elegant and smooth from head to tail to hooves – a trait common to all the alicorns Twilight had seen. She always carried herself with a natural grace, every movement casually harmonious and regal. The combination was, in a word, alluring. The muscles that could be felt beneath her soft skin were lithe but strong, and her large, violet-tipped wings especially powerful. Hidden within that delicate and elegant exterior, Twilight knew, hid one of the strongest, toughest ponies she had ever met.

“You’re beautiful.”

She hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Or at all.

Still, she did not regret having said it.

“So are you,” Cadance answered.

“Even when I’m pregnant?”

“Especially when you’re pregnant. You’re practically glowing.”

“I look huge.”

“You look deliciously abundant.”

“Are all these compliments just to convince me to marry you?”

“Is it working?”

“A little.”

Both mares suppressed inelegant chortles.

Outward appearance was one thing. Twilight could certainly appreciate a pretty pony for being pretty. What truly mattered to her, however, were the mind and the spirit. Cadance scored high on both measures; clever and tenacious, witty and determined. And through it all, kind, loving, and caring, with a sense of humour that Twilight found stimulating in all the right ways.

“I didn’t just mean that you’re beautiful... on the outside,” the unicorn explained, almost finished with lathering up the mare’s tail. “You said that I’m a good, selfless pony under the surface. Well, you’re a good, selfless pony all the way through. You don’t have a rough outside, like I do. You’re just... great. You always see the best in everypony... You bring out the best in everypony. Just being around you makes everyone happy. You’re patient and understanding, and you always think of others before yourself. You make everypony smile and laugh. You remind them of the love they feel for each other, of all the best times they had. You bring them together.

“And it’s not an act, either. It’s who you are deep down. Your cutie mark is a heart... I understand what it means now. You wear your heart on the outside. You let everypony know who you are and you never let them down. And you’re smart and strong... You love children and animals... You’re just... You’re perfect.”

“Twilight...” Cadance began, then cleared her throat. Had she actually gotten choked up from hearing that? “I... I’m not perfect. Nopony is. I’ve made my share of mistakes. Big ones. I get selfish sometimes. There were times when I hurt the ones I love. Including you.”

“Like when?”

“Like... that first time I saw you with Shining?”

“What?! You’re really going to bring that up? A little voyeurism is nothing compared to what I was doing... or thought I was doing to you. I was the one who wasn’t even thinking about who I could hurt. I was ready to go behind your back to get Shining... how horrible is that? What kind of a pony does that make me?” Twilight attempted to shake away the memories. “Anyway, we talked about all this already. We forgave each other. And you’re still a way better pony than I could ever be. This whole relationship between the three of us works because of you. If you were any other pony, it all would’ve ended in a big fight, I’d be a homewrecker, and you and Shining would’ve gotten divorced.”

“And if you were any other pony, I’d have died in the Canterlot caves, Equestria would be overrun with changelings, and Shining Armor would be a meal for their queen. Let’s not even talk about what would have happened to the Crystal Empire.”

“Yeah, the Empire that I didn’t save because I didn’t even notice a page torn out of a book and then got myself caught in a magic crystal trap. If you hadn’t been able to keep that forcefield up while I was running around like–” Twilight’s eyebrows jumped up. “Wait. Are we arguing?”

Cadance chuckled. “We’re debating.”

“Well... let’s not. I just...” The other pony sighed. “I think you’re an amazing pony, Cadance. And I’m the luckiest pony in the world to know you... and no debate.” She added clout to her words by spraying the soapy mare before she could object.

Washing away the suds took longer than expected, likely because the amount of shampoo necessary had been overestimated. The whole shower experience had been rather long, with Twilight’s hooves tingling and threatening to turn pruney within moments. And yet, she was hit with a pang of regret that it was nearly over.

Cadance was almost entirely clean, except for one detail...

“Lift your tail?”

Even in a clothing-optional society, certain parts of anatomy warranted special treatment. Social rules dictated that staring at another pony’s genitalia was the height of rudeness.

Twilight stared. Partly because going at the task blind would be stupid. And partly because she truly enjoyed the view. She kept staring even past the point when she had technically finished cleaning.

Cadance didn’t mind. There was no harm in it.

Social rules could be really silly sometimes.

“Alright, we’re done,” she finally announced, turning off the shower.

A refreshingly cool wave of air flowed over them when the glass partition was opened. Some fresh, crisp white towels levitated over. Cadance immediately wrapped her ample mane in one, using some kind of complicated folding and twisting technique to form it into a loose bun. Twilight simply scrubbed her own mane until it was a mostly dry, disordered mess.

Then, to her surprise and gratitude, Cadance began vigorously towelling off the unicorn’s coat, eliciting an oscillating moan from the younger mare. The stinging friction of the towel was almost – but not quite – painful, serving to be invigorating more than anything else. As before, the alicorn’s movements were softer when her attentions lay on Twilight’s pregnant belly.

Twilight returned the favour soon after, drying off Cadance’s coat, using a light touch on her sensitive feathers, and taking some more time to appreciate the alicorn’s slender curves, the fresh softness of her rosish fur, the near-imperceptible rhythmic expansion of her chest with every breath...

“I think I’m crazy...” she said.

“Why?” Cadance’s expression mingled confusion and concern as she looked back at the unicorn.

“I said ‘no’. I could marry you, but there’s something holding me back, and I don’t understand what that is.” A frustrated frown twisted her features. “You’re everything I ever dreamed of in a special somepony. I’m happy when I’m with you. You’re smart, kind, strong, beautiful... and you’re a princess. What more could I want? What more could anypony possibly be? It doesn’t make any sense for me to say ‘no’.”

The alicorn gave her that look – the one that said, ‘You’re missing the point.’ “Love doesn’t always make sense. You can’t force yourself to love another pony.”

“But I do love you...” the younger mare insisted. “Isn’t that enough?”

Cadance looked down, a hint of sadness in her eyes. “Not always.” She exhaled softly. “Twilight, ponies get married for different reasons. Some do it for companionship, because they’re afraid of being alone. Some rush into it because they mistake infatuation or lust for a permanent connection. Some do it for social status, because of family pressure, politics, or even money.” Her forehoof reached out to touch Twilight’s enlarged flank. “Some do it to take care of children. I think that last one is a respectable reason. But to me, marriage is about sharing your life, completely, with another pony. Giving them every part of yourself, and getting all of them in exchange.” She faced the unicorn fully, looking her squarely in the eyes. “Is that what you want? Do you want to share your whole life with me?”

Twilight hesitated. “I... I could... I mean, I trust you and it’s not like I’m afraid... I just wasn’t expecting it to happen like this, so soon, but I could definitely get used to–”

A hoof to the lips silenced her.

“If the answer isn’t ‘yes’, then it’s ‘no’,” Cadance calmly said. “And that’s fine. You have to trust your heart on this.”

The young pony nodded. “Can... can that ever change?”

“Of course.” The alicorn’s muzzle rubbed soothingly at the base of her ear. “Love changes and grows as you do. If you ever feel that you’re ready, just tell me. And in the meantime...” She traced along the younger pony’s jaw, tickling her with warm air as she did, and making the briefest touch of pink nose to purple at the finish.

It was an invitation. She was offering Twilight a choice: keep the moment platonic, or not.

They gazed at each other again, eyes dreamily half-lidded, mouths happy and anticipating, moving closer until...

They connected, muzzle-to-muzzle. Unlike the kisses of last night, this one didn’t immediately crest and fade; it built as Cadance pressed forward and Twilight answered in equal measure, neither mare backing down from the challenge. Their lips parted, and Twilight’s (now minty-fresh) tongue won the race by entering the alicorn’s mouth first, meeting its friend for a long-awaited affectionate wrestle.

Each pony twisted her head to the side, hooking foreleg around neck, locking together tighter, going deeper, tasting more of the other. The tingles of initial contact gave way to surges of pleasure as they continued to push and twist in a hot and wet game that had no real loser. Twilight’s heart beat faster, and a familiar warmth embraced her entire body. It was electric; magical. Lips and mouth were erogenous zones, after all. Cadance was skilled in manipulating them, but Twilight had been a quick study, and by now she knew just what the princess liked, remembering to vary the pressure on the lips, and perform little twirls on the tip of her tongue that the alicorn especially enjoyed.

From first contact until Twilight playfully released Cadance’s lower lip, sixty-six seconds elapsed. The young princess had laughed when the scientist had first admitted that she actually counted the duration of her kisses, but then encouraged the young mare to enjoy herself however she wished, calling it ‘cute’.

They panted, absorbing the smells of wet pony and scented surfactant. Another, shorter, smaller kiss served as an addendum to the main composition. One pair of violet eyes joyously found the other, though Cadance soon looked away, somewhere behind the unicorn.

“Your brother’s watching us,” she whispered with a devilish smile.

Twilight turned around. Sure enough, Shining Armor was standing in the bathroom’s open doorway, looking thoroughly pleased with the sight before him. His cocky smirk was as irritating as ever.

After seeing him stripped of it the previous night, she was glad for its return.

“Hey, don’t let me interrupt.”

Cadance grinned right back at her husband from beneath half-shut lids. “Do we ever?”

“I can wait outside.”

She wordlessly confirmed with Twilight. “No. We’re done here.” The mares brushed past as they made their exit, leaving the stallion to follow.

“What did I miss?”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know?” the alicorn teased. “All that fog in there isn’t just from the shower. Where were you, anyway?”

“I took a walk. I couldn’t sleep and didn’t want to wake you up. You were just so... adorable together.”

“Did you at least bring us something?” his sister queried.

“Yes,” he declared, chin held high and proud. “I bought donuts.”

“Donuts?” Cadance asked.

“Donuts!” Twilight shouted, bounding down the stairs and into the dining room. As promised, a box bearing the logo of Joe’s Donut Shop sat on the table. Some thoughtful pony had already set out three plates, and the smell of freshly-baked goods held in the air.

The young pony tore open the cardboard, finding her quarry in a chocolate-glazed, cream-filled treat. By the time Cadance and Shining Armor joined her, the unicorn’s purple cheeks were stuffed to capacity with sweetness. She hadn’t even realised how hungry she had been, or how much she had missed this. Sugarcube Corner produced excellent stock, but simply couldn’t compete with the pure childhood memories served by Joe.

Cadance eyed the donuts with suspicion. “I don’t think this is very healthy, Shine.”

The stallion’s pupils turned up in annoyance. “Twilight’s pregnant.”

“That’s what I mean. She deserves a healthy breakfast.”

“It’s past noon. This is lunch. And she deserves a treat. We all do. Unless, of course, you don’t want any. More for us.” The stallion pulled a double-chocolate pastry from the box and casually consumed half of it with a single bite.

A huff. “Fine. Twilight, do you want some fruit with that, or at least some orange juice?”

“Joosh pleesh.”

“Could you get me some, too?” Shining Armor asked, crumbs falling from his mouth. He received a glare in return. “What? I brought the donuts, and I said ‘please’.”

“No, you didn’t,” Cadance snapped back as she left the room.

The stallion looked questioningly to his sister. She shook her head.

“Darn. I thought I did.” He finished off his pastry and moved on to the second.

By that point, a happily twitchy-eared Twilight was well into her third.

“If you’re still thinking about marrying her, Twiley, remember, this is what you have to look forward to: Health food, all the time. ‘Breakfast’ to Cadance means a bowl of plain oats every day.”

“Excuse me?” The alicorn re-entered, levitating three glasses of orange juice. Two she placed in front of herself and Twilight, the third she all-but-slammed in front of Shining – though somehow didn’t spill a drop. “First, three days out of the week is not ‘every day’. And it’s not plain oats. I flavour it with... brown sugar, honey, last time I added fresh fruit...”

The unicorn made a show of sticking out his tongue and gagging.

“Well, I’m very sorry for wanting us both to stay healthy. If you don’t like it, you can just make your own breakfast!”

“I think that’s what I just did.” He pointed to the half-empty box.

“Oh, I see. Going out and buying donuts counts as ‘cooking breakfast’ now!”

“It takes more effort than tossing some oats into a bowl!” he denounced, his voice rising. “And that’s if you do it and not the palace staff.”

“Oh, gee, I wonder why I don’t always have time to cook... Wait, I know. It’s because I have an empire to run!” A pink forehoof hit the table as Cadance’s muzzle moved menacingly close to her husband’s. “I don’t see you playing chef. With the way you laze about all day, you might as well be retired!”

The stallion’s teeth grit together. “Is that supposed to be a joke?! Do you even know what I do all day?”

Their horns locked. “No, because you never tell me! I tell you everything about my day!”

“That’s because I’m considerate enough to not bore the living daylights out of you, the way you do to me every night!”

“STOP!” Twilight shouted, terrified tears welling in her eyes. Witnessing the married couple in such vicious opposition frightened her, not least because of the possibility that she was somehow the reason for their strife. “Please, please don’t fight...” she implored, trying desperately to piece together what exactly the source of this sudden storm was and how she could fix it.

She was met with a pair of confused stares.

Shining Armor and Cadance then looked to each other in silent inquiry, slowly taking on smiles of understanding. “She’s never seen us do this before...” the stallion said.

The pink mare covered her mouth in amusement, the pure ringing of her laugh dispelling the tension. “Don’t worry, Twilight. We’re not fighting. Not really.”

“We have these little arguments sometimes,” Shining explained. “It helps us clear out stress. We let each other know what’s bothering us, but it’s never anything serious.”

“We always end by laughing or kissing. You’ve... really never seen us do this, have you?”

“No!” Twilight’s hoof pressed to her chest, letting her know that her breathing was coming back under control. “You really scared me for a minute there.”

“Sorry,” her brother said with an apologetic shrug. “We don’t normally argue like this in front of other ponies.”

“I guess you’re just so close to us that we forgot that you might not understand...” Cadance’s ears pointed back in contrition.

“This is... normal?” the young mare questioned, her head askew in a genuinely curious tilt. “Married couples do this?”

“Probably not the same way we do,” the princess admitted. “Every couple is different, and needs to find a way to communicate in a way that works for them. This is one way, and it works for us.”

“So... you do this kind of... ‘play fighting’ to work out your problems?”

“Just the simple ones. It’s mostly just for fun.”

“Whenever we have a serious disagreement, we set aside some time, sit down, and talk it out calmly,” Shining Armor commented. He pointed to his wife. “That’s Cady’s idea. It works.”

“I do know a thing or two about relationships,” the mare conceded, lifting a donut to her own plate. “And about resolving conflicts. I’ve been doing it for years. It’s different when you’re on the inside, but the advice is the same. It’s vital to never lose sight of what’s important.” She chewed her treat thoughtfully. “That reminds me... we need to talk about something important. And I think now is a good time.”

Twilight immediately sat up straighter. So did Shining Armor.

Cadance swallowed, took a sip, and breathed deeply. “Twilight, you understand that taking care of a child is a huge responsibility?”

“O– of course.” As if she could forget.

“And Shine, you understand that it’s your responsibility as well?”

The stallion nodded simply.

“With the new baby, Twilight may need our help. I promise you, I will support you both in any way I can. But there are some things I just can’t do. I can’t leave the Crystal Empire for more than a few days at a time. I can’t be there for Twilight if she needs somepony to help her take care of Little Cadance. But you can.” Her gaze fixed on Shining Armor, her brows low and lips thinned. “I will not have a deadbeat dad for a husband. Understand?”

The alicorn’s stare was sharp and oppressive; so much so that Twilight expected her brother to wilt beneath it. To her surprise, the stallion straightened himself more, the determination on his face reminiscent of a soldier taking vital orders. Only a salute was missing. He nodded again.

Cadance then turned back to the pregnant mare. “Twilight, as a mother your first responsibility must be to your daughter. If that means calling on Shining Armor to help you out, then that is what you must do, and you can’t feel guilty about it. He’s not just your brother anymore; he is also the father of your child. That changes the way our relationship works. It can put you and me into direct competition, and I want to make it clear right now: There isn’t going to be any. If you need Shining Armor to be with you – to live with you – then you can have him. Full-time.”

There was that rapid heartbeat sounding in Twilight’s chest again. “Wait, you’re not talking about... divorce...?”

The older mare appeared just as shocked by the prospect, letting out a tiny gasp. “No, no, of course not! When I married Shine, I did it knowing that we might face troubles down the road. This is actually something we talked about already.”

Twilight was confused. “You... talked about Shining coming to live with me to take care of our daughter?”

Cadance shook her head. “Not exactly. We talked about what would happen if we ever had to live apart. We both have duties that might force us to do that – Shining Armor is still a Royal Guardspony, after all, and I’m a Princess sworn to serve Equestria. Even before we got married, we knew that Shine might get sent on a mission to some faraway land, or I might need to represent Equestria on some kind of long-term delegation...” She shared a long glance with her husband. It was a look of bittersweet understanding. “We decided that even though a long-distance relationship might be difficult... we could make it through that.”

Twilight was in awe. She had had no idea how much thought this pair had given to their union, before even starting it. Even the current circumstances weren’t shaking them. Such level of planning and commitment could only be admired.

“I– I can’t take him away from you...” the unicorn argued weakly. “And what would other ponies say...?”

“Yes, you can. We all have to put your daughter’s well-being first. Being a single parent can be very difficult. Shining Armor can be there to help you; be a source of support. It might be strange to have your brother living with you, and yes, a few ponies might ask questions, but an uncle helping take care of his niece is not unheard of. You can make it work.”

Twilight silently questioned the stallion. She knew him well; ordinarily easygoing and talkative, he could also succumb to deathly seriousness when the occasion called for it. Invariably, the higher the stakes, the less he spoke.

And for the past couple of minutes he had been utterly silent.

“Twilight...” he said, calm and resolute, though his eyes held a light shimmer, “I’ll do whatever it takes. Just tell me what you need.”

The royal couple waited expectantly for the younger unicorn’s reaction. It was so odd; to see the husband and wife display such unity and understanding even when the topic at hoof was him leaving her to live far away, and with another mare, no less.

To do anything to rend that kind of relationship would be an abomination.

“Maybe someday you two will have to be apart...” Twilight declared, “...but it won’t be because of me.” Her countenance presented the picture of a mare resolved, brows furrowed and jaw tight. “I refuse to break you up. I’m going to raise Little Cadance in Ponyville with help from my friends. If I can’t make it there... then I’ll come live in the Crystal Empire with you. But I’m not splitting you apart!”

The proclamation stood between them with an air of judicial finality, sealed with a somber gulp of orange juice and the slamming of the empty glass like a makeshift gavel in a donut-scented courtroom.

“...Alright,” said Cadance, “but keep your options open. And remember: there is nothing more important here than the well-being of your child. That includes me. The day I put my own needs above the welfare of a foal is the day I’m not fit to wear this tiara.” She pointed determinedly at the towel atop her head.

There was a pause.

“Um... Cady...”

“You know what I mean!” she covered quickly, blushing, then mumbled, “I still have to put in that conditioner before we leave.”

Everypony laughed, the embarrassed, damp princess included.

“Right,” Shining Armor said, “is Twilight going to help with that, or should I?”

“I will,” the purple pony volunteered. After everything, it seemed the least she could do.

“We need to get going soon if we want to make that council meeting on time tonight,” Cadance stated.

“Our transport is probably already waiting,” the stallion added, procuring the second-to-last donut under his wife’s disapproving scowl.

“Transport?” Twilight asked.

“Pegasus chariot,” he clarified. “The trains don’t really run on our schedule and this is easier than chartering one. Say, Twiley, how are you getting home?”

“I’m just going to take the evening train to Ponyville.”

He offered the final pastry up to the two mares. Twilight counted; she had managed to put away half a dozen donuts in record time, Shining was on his fourth, and the health-conscious Cadance had only taken one. Somehow, the pregnant unicorn was still hungry. Basic etiquette told her to keep quiet.

With a knowing smirk, Cadance tore the last donut in half, sharing it with her. A grateful Twilight savoured the final bit of baked nostalgia.

“Well, unless you have something left to do in Canterlot, why don’t you ride with us? We’ll drop you off in Ponyville on the way.”

“The Crystal Empire is north of here,” she reminded them. “Ponyville isn’t exactly ‘on the way’.”

Her brother gave her that cocky grin she so loathed and loved. “Hey, it’s a private chariot and we’re royalty. Ponyville’s on the way if we say it is.”

“Won’t that make you late for that meeting of yours?”

“Royalty,” Cadance emphasised, pointing to the familiar tiara she had magicked from somewhere in the meanwhile. “They’ll wait.”

It would be the second time is as many days that Twilight kept a ministerial assembly in anticipation. She sincerely hoped not to make a habit of it.

With the mares now headed off to the bathroom to finish grooming each other – Twilight’s mane needed a good brushing, if nothing else – Shining Armor again found himself excluded from the females’ activities. “Anything you want me to do?”

“You can pack our things,” the alicorn offered.

“Already packed.”

“Actually, there is something,” Twilight suddenly remembered. Her horn conjured up a glass vial with stopper, and presented it to her brother, as Cadance looked on curiously.

“What’s this?”

“I need a sample,” she explained. “I remember casting the contraception spell, and I’m sure I performed it correctly. I want to do some tests when I get back to Ponyville. Maybe I’ll be able to figure out what went wrong.”

She held the vial out closer, her face chiseled in determination, her mind in the familiar, well-trodden sphere of science.

“I need you to fill this up.”

Disclosure (Part I)

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The midafternoon sun shone bright and warm as Twilight trotted through Ponyville, cheerful rays providing a pleasant counterpoint to the refreshing late-fall chill in the air. By the time she had arrived, the thin layer of snow blanketing the ground had almost completely melted away, leaving behind patches of damp earth and the occasional, easily-avoided puddle. Winter did not officially start for another seven days, but apparently Rainbow Dash had taken Twilight’s advice of performing a smaller-scale trial run of snowfall in advance of the season, as was the common – and eminently reasonable – process in Canterlot. She smiled.

Twilight Sparkle was back in control of her life.

And in an impressively short amount of time, too, considering the circumstances. A mere thirty hours before, the unicorn had had the metaphorical rug pulled out from under her hooves with the discovery that she was with child. Her brother’s child.

The panic that followed had driven her to immediately seek out personal guidance from Princess Celestia herself, which was something she had not done since foalhood. Twilight was loath to bring her private issues to Celestia. Whenever possible – and all too often when it wasn’t possible – she attempted to tackle her troubles on her own, seeing it, rightly or wrongly, as the “adult” thing to do. Even after her lessons in friendship had instilled in her a sense that there were times when it was appropriate to turn to other ponies for assistance, her go-to source of support had been her cohorts in Ponyville. It did not seem right to badger the diarch of Equestria with any matters of a severity below “threat to national security”.

The fact that she had done so without even thinking spoke volumes about just how distressed she had been, and how much of a scared foal she had felt herself to be.

And now, in the afternoon of the day after, Twilight Sparkle was feeling just fine.

She had a plan.

She had better than that.

She had a backup plan.

She had better than that.

She had a backup backup plan.

And, if that were not enough, she now had contingency plans, avenues of investigation to pursue, and reams of research to perform to facilitate all of those primary, backup, and contingency plans. There would be books to read and lists to make. Probably even flowcharts and graphs. Just thinking about it all was making her giddy and put a spring in her step despite the extra weight she carried.

She was going to be a mother.

Her academic career would take a blow, but she knew that having a child came with its own unparalleled rewards, lessons, and achievements. This was not a loss. No. It was a trade, of one sort of good life for another; a trade she had committed herself to. And, just perhaps, it was to be a favourable one.

Twilight had no illusions about her future. Raising a child was going to be difficult and time-consuming. There would be moments of pain and heartache to balance out the joy and laughter. There would be tears and sleepless nights to contrast the songs and sunny days. There would be work with no reward in sight.

But there would be rewards, in watching her daughter grow, in knowing that Twilight had made the ultimate contribution to the world: the existence of another pony. One idea in particular tickled her fancy: She would have the opportunity to be a teacher. School time composed only a fraction of any child’s life. The greatest source of knowledge for any foal inevitably came from that foal’s caretakers, and Twilight would be accorded both the opportunity and responsibility of molding a young mind. The mare resolved to be the best teacher she could be. Hope sprang that her daughter might be blessed with the same love of learning as her mother, but whether she would be a gifted student, simply an average one, or even one with special needs, Twilight would do everything in her power to help Little Cadance reach her full potential, and support her, always.

Twilight’s friends, in turn, would support her.

And therein lay an ancillary plan, which was to be set into motion immediately: She would tell her friends the truth.

Her mind flashed back to the conversation still fresh in her memory.

“You don’t have to lie to them,” Shining Armor insisted. “Just say that it’s something you can’t talk about. Anypony who’s a real friend will respect that.”

“But holding back like that would mean that I don’t respect them. It’s dishonest. It’s not what a real friend would do.”

“What if one of them decides to tell somepony?” the stallion argued. “It’ll be in all the papers the next day.”

“Last night you wanted to marry me! Now you’re worried about ponies finding out about us?”

“It’s not the same thing. If we go public with our relationship, it should be on our own terms, whenever we decide we’re ready.” He sighed. “Twiley, I just... I just don’t want everypony to find out about us through rumours and gossip because somepony decided to go behind our backs.”

Cadance chimed in. “I don’t think our Ponyville friends would do that, Shine. They’re good ponies. They’ll understand how important this is, and how serious the consequences would be if our secret got out.”

“So you agree that I should tell them?” Twilight asked.

The alicorn hesitated a moment before answering. “That’s up to you, Twilight. Social taboos can run very deep. They may not approve, and if they can’t accept our relationship... we may end up losing them as friends.”

“You... you really think that might happen?”

Twilight shook her head, hoping to banish the cold that suddenly permeated through to her muscles in spite of the sun on her coat and the borrowed scarf she was still wearing.

Her conclusion was firm. She wouldn’t hold the truth back from her friends. They needed to be able to make an informed decision, and a lie – even a lie of omission – risked tainting their friendship forever.

Hiding her incestuous romance with Shining Armor had become second nature over the years, but that was a categorically different matter. Sexual intercourse was something she did in private, with the blinds drawn and an alarm spell on the front door. It was her rightful secret because it did not involve anypony but her and her brother – and, eventually, Cadance. Twilight had no obligation to reveal when or with whom she coupled.

But now, the evidence of her illicit relationship would quite literally be running around, and the fact that a stallion was involved would be undeniable and unavoidable. His identity would forever be the elephant in the room whenever one of her friends and Little Cadance were together – and that was something Twilight desperately wished for; Pinkie or Fluttershy babysitting her, Rainbow Dash boasting to her, Rarity and Applejack inspiring her. She could think of no better role models for a young filly.

And so, after much thought, Twilight had determined that she would tell them all, one at a time. The only remaining question was which to tell first.

Having quickly eliminated both Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash for their emotionality and unpredictability, Twilight was left with three choices for her initial confession.

Fluttershy would be the pony most likely to respond non-threateningly, but her natural conflict-avoidance could prove less than helpful in getting solid opinion or advice. Applejack, in all probability, held the most practical perspective, and could assist Twilight in formulating solid, rational plans. Yet, the fact that the earth pony had an older brother of her own confounded the situation. With how much tradition and family meant to her, she could react very badly to Twilight’s revelation, and possessed both physical and verbal strength to back it.

In Rarity lay an appealing combination of both. The fashionista held herself to a high standard of civility and manners. Even if she was offended, she would not outright attack Twilight. She was also good with ponies, and could offer knowledge of how their remaining friends would take the news. Plus, on a purely pragmatic level, she was the only pony who already knew for certain that Twilight was pregnant, and was undoubtedly impatient to hear how her Canterlot journey had played out.

Rarity would be the first to know.

Or not.

“Twilight!”

Having barely set a hoof in the library, the mare was granted only a precious few seconds to prepare for the fast-approaching ball of purple and green headed her way. Spike’s stubby legs carried him with prodigious speed, bounding the last few feet in a desperate lunge at Twilight’s neck, where a vice-grip hug firmly attached purple dragon to purple pony.

“I was so worried, I mean, you just up and left for Canterlot, and you didn’t tell me because I wasn’t here and you were in such a hurry and Rarity was worried about you, too, but she wouldn’t tell me why you went and I kept asking and she said it was something very personal and that you made her promise not to tell anypony and that you’d be back soon but she couldn’t tell me when you’d be back and I wanted to write to the Princess asking about you but Rarity said that wasn’t a good idea and that I should just wait and she even offered to let me stay over at her place for the night and I knew that was a bad sign because she never does that and then I decided to stay here but I was all alone, well, except for Owlowiscious, but when I tried talking to him about it he didn’t even remember you and then I fell asleep and I had a bad dream–”

“Spike,” she interrupted as gently as she could.

Her dragon assistant’s eyes were watering.

The now all-too-familiar feeling of guilt bubbled up as she realised her mistake.

“Spike,” Twilight repeated, nuzzling him. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you anything before I left. I was just in such a rush and I needed to see the princess in person as soon as I could, I didn’t even think. It was wrong of me. I should’ve left a note or something so that you wouldn’t be so worried.”

The dragon released her at last, wiping his nose with the back of a claw. “It’s... it’s alright.” He rocked slightly, alternately balancing on his toes and his heels. “I mean, I wasn’t panicking or crying or anything like that. I was just... you, know, a little worried, is all.”

Twilight allowed herself a little smile at her assistant’s faux-bravery, her forehoof playfully attempting to mess up his head frill, which merely sproinged back into place like always.

“So... why did you go to Canterlot?” he asked, trepidation fully abandoning his voice as the mare made her way into the library, hung up her scarf, and deposited a couple of souvenirs of her Canterlot visit on a nearby shelf. “What was so important that you had to see the princess?”

The questions gave her pause. She nearly facehoofed.

Spike – not Rarity – needed to be the first to know. She had been so preoccupied with thoughts of how her pony friends would react that she had neglected to even consider her closest dragon friend, nor had she contemplated how to explain all of this to him. The only thing she knew for certain was that she could not lie.

Dragons aged differently from ponies, but as well as Twilight could deduce, he was still a child. Nevertheless, she had personally seen to it that Spike’s education had been comprehensive, with no topic being a taboo. He knew where foals came from and – at least on a basic level – what sex was, and understood the connection between the two concepts. There was a solid foundation to work from.

She arranged two floor pillows and motioned for Spike to sit beside her. A quick application of the calming breath technique to summon up necessary courage, and she was ready to begin.

“Spike, I’m pregnant.”

Mild surprise flitted across his face. “Oh.” He examined Twilight’s midsection more closely, then scratched his head. “I thought you were just eating too much.”

The unicorn couldn’t help a small laugh. “Well, at least that makes two of us.”

The little dragon chuckled back. “Hey, that’s great news!” His eyes took on an excited sparkle. “You’re gonna be a mom! So is that what you went to talk to the Princess about?”

Twilight nodded. “That’s right. I didn’t plan on this happening. It was sort of an accident. I only found out yesterday so it was a pretty big surprise to me, and I needed advice on what to do. That and... I had to tell the father.” She steeled her nerves, trying to prepare for any reaction as the truth drew closer.

“So who is it?”

“Now, Spike, I need you to understand: This needs to be just between you and me for now, and you can’t tell anypony what I’m about to tell you. Our friends will find out soon enough, but I need to be the one to tell them. Promise me?”

Spike nodded resolutely and drew a cross over his heart.

Twilight took another deep breath. “What I’ve done isn’t... socially acceptable. And I’ll understand if you don’t feel comfortable with it. I know a lot of ponies wouldn’t be, which is why it’s important to keep the identity of the father a secret from anypony but our closest friends.”

“It’s Shining Armor, right?” the dragon guessed. “He’s the only pony I know you’ve been having sex with.”

“That’s right, and although incest is a pretty big taboo, the important thing is that nopony got hurt becau– Wait, WHAT?!” Twilight rocketed to her hooves, her jaw hanging agape. “How do you know about that?!”

The dragon recoiled. “Oh, uh... um...” A nervous chuckle emitted from his lips.

“Spike...!”

“It wasn’t my fault!” he asserted, rising to his feet with quickly mounting confidence. “It’s not like I wanted to see you and Shining going at it! It was pretty gross...”

Though it should have been impossible, Twilight’s jaw somehow dropped lower. “You saw...? Wh– when?!” she managed at last, still leaning forward on her hooftips, forcing Spike to scoot back to avoid a nose-to-nose assault.

“Okay, calm down. You remember Hearth’s Warming Eve? The last one we had before moving to Ponyville?”

Twilight remembered. Her cheeks were already heating up.

“Well, I came home early that afternoon.”

“So you just decided to sneak around and spy on me?!” she demanded, mortification and indignation fighting a battle for supremacy.

The little dragon’s arms crossed as he shot back a defiant glare. “That’s not it at all! I came home before you did. When you walked in you had your nose in a book. I said ‘Hi’ and asked you about your day but you didn’t even answer me. You just kept reading, like I wasn’t even there!”

The unicorn slowly backed off.

Spike’s frown was deepening. “So I went upstairs to do some cleaning and let you do your thing. After a while Shining Armor came in. You noticed him!” Here the dragon’s head turned to the side, eyes downcast and lips in an angry pout. “And you... you told him there was nopony else home. Even though I was right upstairs and I could hear everything...”

Twilight fell back onto her pillow in limp shock. “Oh, Spike... I... I’m so sorry...”

“Yeah, well...” He waved a claw in a meaningless gesture, still refusing to look directly at her.

“How... how much did you hear... see?”

“Enough to know your favourite position,” he stated bitterly, disgust in his voice.

Twilight’s ears pressed down and she gave a noticeable wince.

Spike was, in many ways, like a little brother to her, and she had hurt him – on more than one level. And, now that she considered it, on many other occasions. It was a pattern, she realised; not of outright maliciousness, but of simple thoughtlessness, and it wasn’t directed specifically at her number one assistant, but his proximity meant that he was the one who suffered most from it. Too often Twilight simply took Spike for granted, and forgot about him when he wasn’t needed. She needed to look no further than today for an example.

So much for all that stuff Cadance had said.

‘I’m an amazing pony, all right. Amazingly thoughtless.’

“Hey.” Spike jolted her out of her unpleasant reflection. “Don’t get all misty-eyed on me. It’s okay. I got over it.” He presented a small but friendly smile, which Twilight slowly found herself returning. “I was a little freaked out at first, ’cause, you know... I’d never actually seen that before... plus it was you two. And you were really going at it. I mean, those books you gave me never talked about all the sounds ponies make. I didn’t even know you could moan like that, and then when Shining bit your ear and you just kept telling him you wanted to go faster, and then your horn–”

“Spike!” Twilight’s horror was split between the vividness of the description, and the unsettling way the dragon seemed to actually be enjoying telling it.

He grinned, making it clear that it was the unicorn’s current discomfort that was his source of entertainment.

Twilight glared.

“But I got used to the idea. I figure what you and Shining do in bed is your business. Just as long as you don’t make me watch. Or listen. Again.”

Twilight felt her lips curl upward, and a foreleg extended out. Spike accepted the invitation without delay, drawn easily into another hug. The unicorn sighed. “Spike, I need you to add an item to my to-do list.”

“Sure. What is it?”

“We need to figure out how I’m going to make all of this up to you, and reward you for being so mature and understanding. Hopefully in some way that doesn’t turn you into a rampaging monster again, but I’m sure we can come up with something.”

Spike laughed. “I think you have a slot open on Friday.” After breaking the embrace, his attention landed again on the pregnant unicorn’s belly. “So, you really have a little pony in there?”

Twilight nodded.

“Uh, can I?” Spike’s purple claw hovered tentatively.

Twilight turned slightly to provide him better access. “Sure.”

In truth, one of her biggest worries had been that Spike might be permanently disgusted by her, knowing what she had done and the nature of the child she carried, but the young dragon was showing not even a hint of such feelings now. He appeared quite fascinated as his tiny claw pressed against her coat.

“So, do you know if it’s a colt or filly?”

“A filly. I had a check-up and they’re pretty certain about that.”

“Do you ever feel her move or anything?”

A knowing, half-lidded grin washed across Twilight’s face. “A little to the left,” she instructed softly. “Good. Now, just wait a minute.”

Spike’s questioning glance went unanswered. He appeared ready to say something, but eventually decided against it and simply waited as directed.

And then:

“Whoah!” He jumped back in surprise. “Was that really...?”

“Yes, it was,” the unicorn answered with a hint of pride.

“How’d you know that was going to happen?”

Twilight’s own hoof circled the swell. “For a little filly who hasn’t even been born yet, she keeps to a pretty tight schedule.”

“I wonder who she gets that from...” Spike noted with a wry smirk. He placed both claws on her belly, the touch still careful but much less timid than before. There was another kick, to which the young dragon gave an excited laugh. “Tell me again how exactly you didn’t notice this before?”

Twilight’s eyes turned up in annoyance. “Don’t remind me. I have a real talent for ignoring the obvious.”

“That’s true,” Spike confirmed, not paying much attention to the scowl it brought forth. “Wait, does this mean I get to be an uncle?” His tone made it more of a request than a question.

“‘Uncle Spike’?” Twilight looked over the expectant dragon and considered the idea. His eagerness was palpable, and he didn’t need to say another word to make clear his complete support and loyalty.

The mother-to-be felt another bit of weight lift from her heart. No matter what happened from this point on, she had at least one friend in Ponyville.

Really, the most important one.

“That sounds great,” she agreed. “Cadance could really use an uncle to help me take care of her.”

“Cadance?”

“Little Cadance,” she specified, indicating her belly. “I decided to name her after Princess Cadance, since she’s been really supportive of me and Shining.”

“Figures.”

“It doesn’t surprise you that Cadance knows?”

Spike merely shrugged. “She’s like... the Princess of Love, isn’t she? She always goes on about how ‘love knows no boundaries’. I figured you and Shining told her years ago and she was cool with it.”

Twilight suppressed another facehoof as she recalled the real story of Cadance ‘being told’ about her incestuous affair with Shining.

“Close enough,” she said, saving that particular tale for another time.

“So, what’s the plan now?”

“The plan... is that tomorrow is Replan Day.” Seeing her assistant’s confused tilt, she exuberantly elaborated, “We’re going to research how much time I’m going to need to get ready for the foal, and how much will be required after she’s born, factoring in certain variances of course. Based on those estimates, we’ll construct a new study schedule for the next six months, and submit it as a proposal to Princess Celestia. If she approves – which I’m certain she will – we will be organised and prepared all the way until summer starts. We’ll also need to put together a reading list: All the relevant books on pregnancy and foalcare. We’ll work my reading them into the new schedule. A foal is a huge responsibility, and I’m going to be ready for it!”

The unicorn stood tall and dauntless with her declaration, he eyes ashimmer and her mane flowing in a heroic, though nonexistent, breeze.

“Doesn’t that sound like fun?” she excitedly questioned her scaly companion.

“Uh, yeah. Can’t wait,” Spike deadpanned. “That’s tomorrow, though... what about the rest of today?”

“Today... I have a... genetic sample to analyse,” Twilight euphemised, certain that she had already exceeded her quota of blushes for the week. “And I need to go talk to Rarity to let her know everything’s fine. In fact, I should probably do that first.”

Something stirred within her. And, now that she had gained some experience properly categorising her body’s messages, she knew it wasn’t the baby.

“But... I wouldn’t mind a quick snack before I go. I kinda skipped breakfast today.”

“What about all those donuts from Joe’s?” Spike asked.

Twilight could only stare dumbfounded.

The dragon tapped his nose. Dragons had a better-developed sense of smell than ponies.

“Oh. Sorry about that. I’m... I’m eating for two, okay?” She was definitely over-quota now. “I’ll bring some back for you next time I go. But you can go and pick up a treat for yourself from Sugarcube Corner later. Right now...”

Cadance’s concerns bubbled forth to her consciousness. Anything Twilight consumed, her baby would as well. “What’s the healthiest thing we have?”

Spike’s left eye squinted in thought, while a claw scratched at his cheek. “There’s a spinach and strawberry salad in the fridge. I made it yesterday so it should still be–”

“I’ll take it!” Twilight said, trying not to loose any spit from her already-watering mouth.

“Heh. Coming right up!” With that, Spike took to the kitchen, the cacophony of dishware and utensils soon following.

Momentarily alone, Twilight lay back down and took a deep whiff of the aroma surrounding her. Wood, parchment, paper, ink... She emptied her lungs in a contended sigh. The titles encircling her sent out their textual greetings; invitations and salutations for their rightful mistress. Even the sounds, imperceptible to anypony who wasn’t tuned to listen, bade her welcome; the occasional groan or squeak of books settling on their shelves as the temperature or humidity changed.

Those familiar sounds lay underneath the more immediate noises of her loyal assistant – her friend – Spike, happily working away like always, whistling some popular tune while he did, as if nothing had changed between them.

Because it hadn’t.

“Spike?” she called out.

The dragon’s head appeared in the doorway, ready for further instruction.

Twilight smiled. “It’s good to be home.”

Disclosure (Part II)

View Online

—Closed.—

Twilight contemplated the sign, its understatedly elegant yet eye-catching calligraphy genteelly barring entry to regular customers of Carousel Boutique. Of course, Twilight was not a customer; not on this visit, anyway. She was a friend, visiting a friend, and so the sign was not meant for her.

Plus, in her haste, she had already pushed the door open.

Still, the sign presented a small enigma. The current time was a weekday, still within standard business hours – if only just – and therefore Rarity’s shop should have been open for business. A spark of worry ignited inside her, various possibilities for the unexpected closure, none of them particularly pleasant, running quickly through the unicorn’s mind. Rarity was a savvy business owner, and unlikely to turn down customers for no reason.

Of more immediate relevance was the sign’s suggestion that Rarity was not in her shop at all, and Twilight’s carefully- though hastily-constructed four-phase plan to inform her of the events of the past two days, as well as the supporting details, might prove impossible to execute.

Not that the plan would matter much if something had happened to Rarity.

Rapidly concluding that she would gain no further insights from dumbly standing in the half-open threshold, Twilight entered.

The shutting door hit the bell for the second time, re-announcing her presence.

Nopony arrived to greet her.

As the remnants of the chime faded away, she perceived a different, but no less familiar sound, muffled though it was by an interposing wall or two, just on the edge of her hearing, which then coalesced into intelligible syllables as she made her way further in.

“Oh, no,” Rarity intoned, as harshly as her ever-refined voice could manage. “This simply will not do... Oh, but I do have another option... yes, this shade will do nicely... but it requires something more... Hmm... Ah, magnifique!... Oh, but I mustn’t forget...”

Twilight exhaled. The unmistakable sound of Rarity working away on some new project was welcomed by her ears, imbuing a sense of order in her soul. All was right with the world. Even the butterflies in her stomach had been convinced to flutter somewhat less violently in anticipation of the upcoming conversation.

Arriving at the private workshop behind the main storefront, Twilight found the other unicorn surrounded by reams of fabrics, ribbons, and all manner of fashion accessories, as well as no less than eight pony-shaped dress forms in various states of attire, ranging from buck-naked to gala-ready. The fashionista’s current focus lay on a small podium, where a large swath of oddly-shimmering pale blue fabric was draped over yet another equine shape, covering it completely and giving it a near-ghostly appearance, while Rarity stared intently at two emerald-hued bows, alternately placing each in front of the phantasmal figure, as if trying to decide which one matched better with the sparkling blue.

Twilight could see no difference between them whatsoever.

She politely cleared her throat, taking the opportunity to once again breathe her butterflies into submission.

The action went without response. She tried again, louder.

Rarity released something between a groan and a sigh, and forced a measure of professional cheer into her voice. “I’m sorry, we’re closed for today. If you have a special request there is–” A gasp, as she finally noted the identity of her visitor. “Twilight!” At once she made for the other unicorn, abandoning her task to the floor and wrapping the mare in a joyous hug. “You’re back! And you look...” Her eyes quickly scanned Twilight’s form, briefly lingering at the stomach. “Well, you look wonderful. Did you do something with your mane? It’s looking particularly radiant. And do I detect a hint of...” She gave a dainty sniff. “...lilac and... clouds. I must say, it’s very becoming. And you’re still...?”

At this, her smile gained an uncertain edge, though it did not fade away. The mare was seemingly unwilling to work based on any further assumptions about Twilight’s condition – likely taking a lesson from the previous day’s disastrous teatime – and was clearly waiting for her friend to say something.

‘Okay,’ Twilight told herself, ‘Phase One: Assure Rarity that everything is fine.’

“Yeah, I just got back from Canterlot. I had a meeting with Princess Celestia, and a medical check-up, and it turns out the baby and I are both fine and healthy, and I figured out what I’m going to do.”

The white unicorn beamed. “Oh, that’s terrific news! Though I do so wish you would have allowed me to accompany you. You have no idea how difficult it’s been; being forced to stay here running myself positively ragged with worry!”

“Oh,” Twilight said.

‘Not again,’ Twilight thought.

One of her forelegs rubbed guiltily against the other. “I... I didn’t mean to upset you. It was all just such a big surprise to me...”

“Oh, think nothing of it!” Rarity assured, pressing her smiling cheek to her friend’s. “Believe me, if it had been me who suddenly found herself in your... situation... I would hardly have been any more composed. The important thing is that you’re healthy and happy. And keeping the Boutique closed has allowed me extra time to work on my designs.”

Twilight pulled away. “Wait. You... kept your shop closed because you were worried about me?”

“Well, yes!” Rarity stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I had to be ready to leave and assist you at a moment’s notice. Plus, I couldn’t conduct business with the public in my present state.”

One of Twilight’s brows lowered in confusion. “Your... state?”

“I simply couldn’t bear to have anypony see me like this. Oh, I’m certain I must look an absolute wreck right now!”

Twilight’s other brow rose as she examined Rarity’s perfectly-applied makeup, radiant coat, eager expression, and flawless coiffure. “Uh, you look fine.”

“Oh, that is sweet of you to say, darling, but you needn’t humour me. We both know the stress has made me utterly unpresentable.” The unicorn pressed a hoof to her forehead and sighed dramatically, simultaneously turning to conceal half her face in apparent shame.

Twilight tensed, on the lookout for an approaching fainting couch, though, thankfully, none appeared.

She opted to move past the topic as quickly as possible. ‘Phase Two: Inform Rarity of my decision.’

“Anyway, I’ve come to a conclusion,” Twilight stated confidently and matter-of-factly, “and I thought you should be one of the first to know: I’ve decided to keep the foal and raise her myself.”

Instantly, Rarity’s eyes began to shimmer, matched with an overpowering smile that could put most of Pinkie’s to shame. Her hoof shot to her cheek. “Oh, Twilight, that is absolutely fantastic! I do believe congratulations are in order!” The last few syllables positively danced out of her throat.

The mirth she exuded was certainly contagious. “Thanks,” Twilight replied, feeling the corners of her mouth pull back. “It’s going to be a big responsibility, but I think I’m up for it.” She unconsciously touched her belly.

“I’m positive that you are,” the other mare agreed, lifting her chin proudly. “And as your good friend, allow me to assure you that I will assist you in any way I can. You can count on me, Twilight.”

The purple pony’s world wobbled uncertainly as happy liquid pooled in her eyes. Her lids fluttered, clearing away the moisture, reminding her to stay focussed on her task. As heartwarming as Rarity’s support was, its survival was uncertain in the face of the upcoming confession.

This could still end badly.

‘Phase Three: Gauge Rarity’s reaction to taboo relationships.’

“Now then, about that store I was telling you about yesterday,” the white pony started, heedless of her guest’s attempt to speak. “If you are looking for foal care supplies, it is the place to shop. They stock these absolutely adorable little onesies – I should show you pictures of Sweetie wearing hers; she looks an absolute darling! It’s practically high fashion for newborns. It almost makes me want to try my own hoof at designing clothing for foals, if only I wouldn’t have to face such stiff competition–”

“Uh, Rarity...?” the purple mare interjected, trying to be as diplomatic as possible.

“Hmm? Oh, yes! Just listen to me going off about shopping and clothes! What is on your mind, dear?”

“So, uhh...” Twilight’s hoof dug at something in the southern region of her mane. While she had devised a general sort of outline of where to take her speech, she hadn’t had time to give thought to the precise wording she would use. Now, forced to come up with it on the spot, she quickly found the task much more daunting than initial estimates had suggested.

Rarity continued to stand there, eyes and ears expectantly fixed on her guest.

“I was... uh... sorta thinking that maybe... I should let you know how this all happened.” Twilight’s foreleg drew a circle in a meaningless gesture. “If that’s something you want to hear about, of course.”

“Oh, most definitely!” the other unicorn assured. Once more she pulled her friend into a halfways-hug. “Please Twilight. I’m your friend. You can tell me anything.”

That was all the push Twilight needed.

“See... the thing is... I’m in a kind of weird, long-distance relationship with this... stallion.... that I’ve known for a really long time... and this relationship – sexual relationship, not really a romance per se, but sort of... it’s complicated – it’s been going on for a really long time... and it’s not really a socially acceptable kind of relationship...”

“He’s married!” Rarity spoke suddenly, with what was a practically gleeful shout. “Isn’t he?”

“No!” Twilight answered. “I mean... yes! He’s married. But that’s not the issue. His wife knows about everything and she’s completely fine with it. In fact, she finds the whole thing kind of arousing.”

“Oooooh!” Rarity trilled. “Are we talking about a polyamorous arrangement, then?” The question brimmed to overflowing with a schoolfilly’s enthusiasm at being let in on delicious, forbidden, big-pony secrets.

Twilight breathed a tiny sigh of relief. This sort of reaction was encouraging to say the least, and she was finding it easier to proceed. “Yeah, I guess it is,” she said, self-confidence rising. If Rarity was going to greet scandalous news with such enthusiasm, this would turn out to be a piece of cake.

Playing into her expected role, the other mare lowered her head conspiratorially, her irises half-hidden. “And would this happen to be the ‘mystery stallion’ from Canterlot that you once let on to during that... enlightening soiree we had a while back?”

“If you’re talking about the time you and the girls got me falling-over drunk with hard cider–” Twilight’s brows knit together momentarily. “–and somehow we got to talking about when I lost my virginity, then... yes, it’s the same pony. Like I said: We’ve been involved for a very long time.”

Rarity’s legs twitched, as if just barely holding back the urge to start skipping rapidly in place. “Oh, now you simply must tell me who this forbidden paramour of yours is! What does he look like? Have I met him?”

“You promise to keep it a secret?”

“I shan’t tell anypony!” The white mare declared with stars in her eyes and drama in her voice.

“Okay... what if I told you...” Twilight began, “and, just as an example, speaking purely hypothetically...”

Rarity bobbed her head furiously.

“What if I told you... that the pony I’ve been talking about...” Twilight swallowed hard, while her hoof desperately searched for any part of her body in need of a scratch. “...is... and again, just as an example... what if he is... uh...” She squinted hard. “...my father?”

“What?!”

“It’s just a hypothetical!” Twilight yelled, as Rarity’s eyes had widened to saucers and her lips inverted at once into a look of unmitigated horror.

The white pony sputtered for a few seconds, accompanied by odd contortions of her face. “Y– you– your father?!”

The sensation Twilight was experiencing could roughly be described as that odd moment, sometimes seen in the kinds of animated films she had watched in her childhood, when a character unknowingly runs off the edge of a sheer cliff, and continues to run on thin air, for a blissful few seconds unaware that gravity has failed to notice her. When she does, it does, though she may be able to stave off the inevitable for a few seconds more by maintaining the pretense and continuing on as if nothing were wrong.

It is that precise moment Twilight now found herself in. She had just ran off the precipice. She wasn’t a pegasus. She wasn’t even Pinkie Pie. She had no defense against the wrath of the Earth’s gravitational force but her own temporary, fleeting, and willful ignorance of it.

There was nothing to do but to keep running.

“Yes,” she said, the syllables already beginning to quake as she produced them, “what would you say if I told you that the pony I’ve been romantically and sexually involved with, and who is the father of my child, is my own father?”

With each word, Rarity’s mouth opened wider and wider, her pupils shrunken to pinpricks and lost in the vast seas that were the whites of her eyes. After a while of blank terror, she began to issue a few incomprehensible sounds, before at last gaining the ability to marshal them into words. “Tha– that’s awful! Twilight, that... isn’t normal.”

“I– I know. It’s incest, and it’s a huge social taboo,” Twilight confirmed, as her vision tunnelled to see nothing but the sickened, terrified expression on Rarity’s face. “But I love him, and I was the one who initiated it, and I knew all the risks, and we’ve been doing this for so many years. I know it’s not normal, but that doesn’t matter to us. It’s what we both want.”

“Twilight...” Rarity was the one to swallow a hard lump this time. “Twilight... that... that is digusting!”

Gravity won. Twilight fell, her attempt to cheat it having only been good for the briefest of respites.

It was a long way down.

That was all metaphorical, of course. In reality, her hooves were still firmly on the ground – though maintaining balance had become strangely difficult even with four solid points of contact. Some irrelevant voice in the back of her mind admonished her that this conversation should have been taking place in a seated position at Rarity’s table with cups of tea in front of them, not just standing awkwardly in the middle of her workroom. Twilight’s entire body trembled in what she knew had to be fear – and she had good reason to be afraid.

In Rarity’s countenance she could see the worst-case scenario come to life:

Rarity was clearly disgusted. She also seemed angry. And hurt. And more negative emotions besides. And all of it was directed straight at Twilight. There was not a hint of sympathy or understanding, to say nothing of genuine acceptance or happiness. The consequence seemed inevitable: Twilight was about to lose one of her best friends – if it hadn’t happened already.

“What’s– um–” Twilight choked on every arduously-formed syllable. “Why is it so disgusting? I’m... We– we’re not hurting anypony...”

“Twilight!” Rarity all-but-shouted, “You don’t know what you’re saying! That sort of thing is abuse!”

“It’s not abuse!” Twilight countered, immediately latching onto a point of reason she could argue. “I’m a mature, educated, independent pony, capable of giving informed consent to sexual relations with anypony I choose! Including members of my own family.”

It did not seem possible for Rarity to turn any more aghast – until she did just that. Her gasp nearly devoided the room of oxygen. “Twilight, you can’t possibly believe– I mean, I don’t know what he’s told you over the years, but it isn’t something that parents–” Another gasp, followed by vicious panting, as Rarity looked to be on the verge of fainting for real, availability of a couch notwithstanding. “Oh good heavens, you said his wife knows and... and... that means both of them...”

“Hypothetical!” Twilight tried desperately, not entirely sure which pony she was trying to keep from passing out. “It’s just a hypothetical question! I wanted to know what you would think if... if it were somepony like my father.”

“I think that is sick!” Rarity instantly traded in a good portion of her panic for what appeared to be rage.

“But... a minute ago you were excited when I told you it was a taboo relationship!”

“I thought it might have been one of your professors from Celestia’s School or somepony like that but... your family? Twilight, incest is wrong!”

“Why is it wrong!?” the other unicorn demanded, as a well of her own indignation suddenly sprang out of nowhere. “There is nothing wrong with consenting ponies having sex with each other, no matter who they are!”

“You can’t just consent to something like that! When it’s your family, there’s– there’s power issues and emotional bonds that can be exploited... and for a father to take his own daughter... that’s– that’s criminal! He ought to be in prison!”

Of all the emotions Twilight had thought she might feel, she had not expected anger. Yet, anger at Rarity is what ran freely through her veins when she stomped her hoof and shouted, “Consensual incest is not illegal!”

“Well, it should be!”

The pregnant mare recoiled a step. She attempted to speak again, but nothing came; her outrage having flamed out as quickly as a firework. All that remained was a hollow sadness, a dripping of tears onto the floor at her hooves, and a merciful numbness that prevented her from fully appreciating what they meant.

On an analytical front, Phase Three had been completed, and Phase Four had been rendered immaterial. Twilight had her answer. In her hypothetical query, she had narrowly avoided speaking the exact truth – the last-second substitution of one member of her immediate family for another being a somewhat bizarre choice even to her – but that was a mere formality now. The heart of the matter had been laid bare. Rarity had made her views on incest known, and they did not bear what Twilight had done.

They did not bear who Twilight was.

“I’m, uh...” the unicorn spoke feebly as she turned away, “I’m going to go home. To... rest. Um, thanks... thanks for talking to me.” She sniffed and wiped a foreleg at her muzzle. “Goodbye, Rarity.”

“Twilight, wait!”

Her head swivelled back. In the brief interim, Rarity’s expression had turned to looking more pained than mad.

“I– I’m sorry I shouted. What you said... it just took me by surprise. I believe I may have overreacted slightly,” the white pony admitted, pressing a hoof to her cheek, where a tint of soft pink was taking residence. Her eyes flitted every which way as she struggled for words. “I– I don’t mean to be insulting to you, Twilight, but you simply can’t expect me to see that sort of relationship as healthy.”

“I don’t,” the purple mare replied, wiping her face with her other, dry forelimb. “I understand you might not like it. I just hoped that...” She flinched as a fresh tissue, wrapped in a pale-blue aura, appeared beside her. She quickly made use of it to clear her overflowing sinuses. “I just hoped... that we could still be friends.”

“Wha–? Twilight! Darling, of course we’re friends!” Shock – though a more subdued variant than what had just passed – painted Rarity’s face. “I wouldn’t be acting this way if you were just some random pony I cared nothing about. I’m worried about you, because we’re friends. I want to help you.”

Hope sparked within the pregnant pony, as she realised that, perhaps, the situation was not as bleak as it had first seemed. She faced her self-declared friend once more. “Thank you. That means a lot to me, but... I don’t need help.” She swallowed, and infused her countenance with what remained of her strength. “This isn’t something that needs fixing. Rarity, I understand you’re uncomfortable, but please, please, don’t try to do anything about this. This is my choice. The only thing I want... the only thing I need from you, as a friend... is to respect that it’s mine to make.”

She couldn’t tell if her projected confidence was having the intended effect. Rarity’s expression wavered between overpowering vexation and terse instants of what could almost be regarded as empathy – if Twilight wasn’t, in her desperation, simply imagining it.

“Twilight... forgive me, this... this is a lot to take in all at once.” The unicorn breathed labouredly, as if balancing a great weight on her back. Her vision searched the ceiling – perhaps hoping for some divine guidance. “I may need some time to think this through, but... I suppose... I can come to terms with it. Just... give me a few minutes, if you would.”

Twilight nodded slowly. “It’s not my father.”

“OhThankCelestia!” At once, the invisible boulder dropped from Rarity’s back, whereupon she panted in palpable relief.

“It’s my brother.”

Tom was back. “Oh.” Rarity’s eyes explored the floor this time. “Well. I... suppose... that’s not quite as bad. You are much closer in age. It’s not as if he was responsible for raising you. The potential is still there, but you are essentially peers... W– we’re no longer speaking hypothetically, are we?”

“No,” Twilight answered, once more stroking her belly. “This is Shining Armor’s foal,” she finally confessed, carefully examining the rounded shape. Not that she truly felt a need to; the action served more to give both friends a respite from looking at each other’s none-too-happy expressions.

“I can’t say I approve of this,” Rarity calmly stated after some half-minute’s pause. “In fact, I’m quite certain I disapprove.” Their eyes reconnected. “But you are most definitely still my friend, Twilight. I have pledged my support to helping you with your daughter, and I assure you that you have it.”

Success. Of a sort, anyway. Phase Four was complete, and Twilight still had her friend. “Thank you,” her small voice replied, joined by en equally-timid smile.

The unicorn’s joy was tempered by an embarrassed self-consciousness, as she ascertained that she had no idea where to go from here; her plan was finished, and an unwelcome silence was all that remained. Somehow, asking Rarity about their friends or the economy or what books she had read recently – the typical friendly small talk they often shared – seemed too offensively trite to indulge now. The other pony was exhibiting an equal amount of discomfort, her own try at returning Twilight’s smile not quite getting there, and Twilight was about to issue forth a simple goodbye to leave Rarity to contemplate the smouldering remnants of the dropped bombshell in peace – but then the white mare unexpectedly closed the distance and hugged her, killing off the silence without uttering a single word.

Twilight hugged back, as confused by the gesture as she was grateful for it. Rarity’s signals were certainly mixed, though the pregnant unicorn elected to focus on the positive. “Thank you,” she repeated.

“Well, you seemed to need it,” the other mare answered, still audibly addled with a hodgepodge of emotion beneath affected nonchalance.

“It means a lot to me. Really.” Gently, they broke apart. “I was so worried about how you’d react. I’m glad I was finally able to tell somepony.” Twilight sighed. “At this point, I don’t know if can work up the courage to tell our other friends. I was hoping I could, but now... I just don’t know. Can I even hope for them to be accepting of this whole crazy taboo relationship I’m in?”

“Hay, yeah! I dunno about the rest of the gang, but I’m totally cool with it, Twi!”

“Gwaaah!” The poor purple mare all but jumped out of her skin at the sound of the brash and all-too-familiar voice, which she quickly ascertained as having originated from a few hoofsteps behind Rarity.

With a rapid flurry of motions, the pony shape standing on the podium fought her way out of her shimmering blue cover and tossed it casually aside, leaving a coyly smiling, cyan-coated pegasus with an abundantly chromatic mane looking back at the other two mares.

“Oh dear,” Rarity muttered, covering her mouth and looking intently at the floor.

“R– R– R– Rainbow Dash?!”

“The one and only!” Rainbow replied, puffing her chest and dusting herself off, ignoring the obvious lack of any dirt.

“What is she doing here?!” Twilight demanded of the boutique’s owner, her vocal cords straining beneath the frequency.

Rarity’s blush returned with force. Her answer was preempted by Dash herself.

“I offered to help Rarity with her dressmaking,” the pegasus declared simply.

“You... volunteered? For dressmaking?”

“Sure. She was looking pretty down, and I figured I could cheer her up. That’s what being a good, loyal friend is all about.”

“She lost a wager,” Rarity quietly amended, still avoiding eye contact with either pony.

“Plus I lost a wager,” Rainbow conceded with a tinge of irritation, though her smile only faltered for a fraction of a second. “But mostly, it was the loyal friend thing.”

“And... you’ve been here the whole time? And you didn’t say anything?!” Twilight shouted at Rarity with a gaze of pure fury reinforced by mortification.

That would make it the second appearance of that particular combo that day.

The other unicorn still refused to meet either pony’s eyes. “Twilight, I’m dreadfully sorry, I truly am. I didn’t mean to mislead you. The truth is... I all but forgot that Rainbow was even here.”

“Pfft. Thanks, Rare. Not like that’s offensive or anything.”

“You kept falling asleep!” Rarity shot back, her voice having gained a few decibels.

The pegasus merely rolled her eyes in reply.

“I kept waking her,” the unicorn explained, pointing an accusatory hoof, “but she would just complain about how bored she was and doze off again after a minute or two. Eventually I stopped trying and just resigned to using her as a simple dress form. I got so focussed on my colour choices, and then when you came in and we started talking... it completely slipped my mind that she was here. I– I’m sorry.”

Twilight’s thundering heart slowed down as she connected the dots of hope. “Wait... you were asleep?”

“Yeah, until you two woke me up with your arguing about some relationship junk.”

The purple mare shied her head back an inch, face scrunching in uncertainty. “H– how... how much of what we were saying did you hear?”

Rainbow shrugged. “Well, I only woke up a couple of minutes ago, I was trying to get back to napping, so I didn’t really catch much.”

Twilight exhaled in relief.

A wicked grin slowly appropriated the pegasus’ face. “Just the part where you got yourself knocked up by your own brother! Bwahahahahahahaha!”

Twilight’s jaw dropped as she watched the pegasus collapse onto her back in an uncontrolled fit of laughter, her hooves kicking and waving as if in an upside-down air-gallop. When it appeared that she might be finished, her lungs simply captured another helping of air and then continued on with just as much volume as before.

“Rainbow Dash!” Rarity yelled. “This is not a laughing matter! This is quite serious!”

“Oh, but it totally is!” Rainbow argued, her wild peals gradually coming into rein, eventually permitting the cyan pony to roll onto her side and into a quasi-dignified posture. “Hey, Rarity, remember– remember the one time Twilight came back from Canterlot with that I-totally-just-got-some look all over her face, and I guessed she’d been bonking her brother, and then you were all, ‘Really now, Rainbow Dash, how can you even suggest such a thing?!’” Here, the pegasus parodied the fashionista’s posh accent and signature hair flip. “‘Twilight would never engage in such behaviour, and neither would Prince Shining Armor. You’re being positively absurd!’ Well, I bet there’s one pony in this room feeling pretty ‘absurd’ right now, and it sure isn’t me!” She went back to laughing, punctuating her fit with an occasional loose flap of a wing.

The white pony, meanwhile, had turned a vibrant red in the cheeks, and the sounds of her teeth scraping were just audible over the other’s noise. The effect was completed by an angry burst of steam shooting from her nostrils as she valiantly struggled to maintain control.

The stone-still Twilight’s gaping mouth had nearly dried out – though she largely failed to notice it, as her brain struggled in vain to formulate some kind of response to all it was being asked to deal with.

“Hey, Twilight,” Dash suddenly addressed her, with impish curiosity beneath her continued chortles. “Did you and your bro ever have a threesome with Cadance? She always seemed the type up for that kind of thing,” she teased with half-lidded eyes.

The unicorn spun her burning face aside, trying to look anywhere but at another pony and furiously worked to think of something to say that would make all this stop.

But there are no time-outs in real life, and the winged mare immediately recognised what the absence of response signified. All her teeth bared in a face-rending grin, the orbs of her eyes on full display. “Oh. My. Gosh. You did!” She flipped once more onto her back, her body rocked by cacophonic convulsions of guffaws that would be enough to have any observing pony question the pegasus’ psychological well-being.

“Rainbow Dash!” Rarity yelled once again, to little effect, and shot Twilight, as well as the room, a look of guilty helplessness. “Augh!” she declared with an uncharacteristic lack of refinement.

Both unicorns could only watch as their friend took her sweet – and, apparently, very hilarious – time getting back to her hooves. “I– I don’t believe it,” she said as her giggles finally faded away into an intense but mercifully silent grin. “I should’ve seen it coming. It’s like the oldest story in the book: The, quiet, nerdy, stuck-up librarian is secretly a total freak in bed!”

“Hey! I am not nerdy... or stuck up!” Twilight railed. A pause. “And I am not a freak!”

“Whoah, whoah, whoah!” At long last, Rainbow’s smile vanished completely. A couple of wingbeats brought her quickly to Twilight’s side, where she hooked a surprisingly tender forelimb around the unicorn’s neck. “Calm down, Twilight. I didn’t mean it like that. Don’t start up with the waterworks on me.”

Rarity made herself useful by bringing over another tissue to dry Twilight’s eyes, which the purple mare only now noticed were threatening to rain down again.

“I was just kidding – well, sorta. You are a freak, but the good kind. I admire a pony who isn’t afraid to buck the establishment and knock horseshoes on her own terms.”

Twilight didn’t quite understand. Hadn’t Rainbow Dash just spent a good five minutes laughing at her? “Wait, so... you’re okay with this?”

“Pshhh. Of course I’m okay with it. Why wouldn’t I be? I mean, your brother is a total hunk.” Rainbow’s teeth glinted and her eyebrows twitched suggestively. “I get why you’d want to get yourself a piece of that action. And if Cadance is in on it, that just makes it so much better. Plus, incest is hot.”

Twilight stared with bemusement. “You’re an only child, aren’t you?” she asked flatly.

“Yeah. What does that have to do with anything? Anyway, I have no problem with one of my best friends getting all kinds of freaky in bed with anypony she wants. Or ponies. If you ask me, you just jumped up a notch on the awesomeness scale. Now if somepony was getting hurt, it’d be a different story, but what I’m hearing is everypony was having a good time. Am I right?”

“Uh... right.”

“Right! So don’t let anypony–” Rainbow gave Rarity a brief glare. “–tell you who you can and can’t fool around with. And if anypony ever tries to give you any guff about it, or says anything bad about your kid–” Twilight felt a cyan hoof poke her swollen flank. “–they’ll have me to deal with.” Here, the pegasus turned her head heroically skyward and spread her wings.

“Wow.” The unicorn smiled broadly, all at once feeling lighter on her hooves. In her analysis of whom to tell, Rainbow Dash had been a wild card, and probably would’ve been the last on her list of confessors. This kind of staunch alliance was far better than anything Twilight would have hoped for. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Hey, speaking of your kid...” Twilight frowned as Dash made repeated, additional, fascinated, and decidedly unwelcome pokes to her belly. “...since you and Shining Armor are so closely related, is it going to be, like, born with two horns or something?”

“What?! No!”

“’Cause I was just thinking: In comic books, if a pony’s a mutant, they usually get cool powers.” Rainbow scratched her chin thoughtfully. “Like, maybe she could use dark magic or get psychic powers or have the ability to be in two places at once or something.”

Had a clear desk been available, Twilight would have smacked her head against it. For an instant, calculations of the amount of magical energy required to teleport her own bureau from the library to obtain the proper effect danced in her head, but ultimately she settled for a deep groan. There were so many things wrong with what Rainbow Dash had just said, picking which one to correct first was challenging.

“Okay, first of all, genetic mutations have nothing to do with inbreeding. Incest only raises homozygosity, which is the number of alleles which are exact duplicates across corresponding diploid chromosomes, and therefore increases the probability of expression of deleterious recessive genetic traits. Mutation, on the other hoof, is a direct change in genetic code, usually due to errors in gene replication, or nucleotide damage from external factors like viruses, chemicals, or radiation, and normally results in faulty or inhibited genetic expression.”

Rainbow blinked. “So... is your kid gonna have superpowers or not?”

“Augh!”

Divulgence (Part I)

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“...and that is why the concept of ‘pure-bred’ unicorns being predisposed to having greater innate magical aptitude is purely a myth.”

Twilight lifted her chin as she walked, visibly pleased with the thoroughness of her lesson.

Rainbow Dash hung her head lower, visibly displeased with same.

Her scowl grew deeper when she turned and saw that her unsolicited teacher was utterly failing to notice the exasperated rolling of her eyes.

The pegasus’ hooves nearly dragged in the dirt, though she remained technically airborne. One forehoof massaged the base of her muzzle. “Ugh, Twilight. That is the most boring egghead lesson I’ve ever heard. And you didn’t even answer my question!”

“Well, I happened to think it was fascinating,” Rarity opined from Twilight’s other side. “Though I must admit, it may have been just a touch more... verbose... than necessary.”

Twilight’s brows angled inward as her head whipped between the two halves of her audience. “I just condensed pony-decades of genetic study and research into a five-minute summary.”

The pegasus beside her complained, “That was not five minutes. More like... five hours.”

“We’ve been walking for twenty minutes at the most,” the purple mare argued. “The sun hasn’t even set yet.”

This was true; the celestial orb had presently drifted well below the treeline but still hung above the horizon as the trio made their way along one of the longer and more scenic paths of Sweet Apple Acres. The non-leafed, non-appled apple trees that surrounded them failed to completely block its rays despite sheer numbers, forcing the group to squint and blink frequently in response to flashes of dying sunlight that assaulted their eyes as they traversed the harvested scenery.

“And I needed to give you the proper context for my answer,” Twilight further rationalised.

“Which is?”

“I don’t know how much magic potential Little Cadance will have. There’s no way to even estimate a foal’s abilities in magic until they’re at least six months old.”

Rainbow’s features contorted in disbelief. “So... you don’t know?”

“That’s right.”

“Twilight! I didn’t need to hear a five hour speech–”

“Five minute.”

“–just to hear you say that you don’t know something!” She groaned again, with more force this time. After a moment, her eyes locked onto a point in the distance. “I’m hungry,” she stated without portent.

As if on cue, Twilight’s belly rumbled, and her step faltered.

This instantly improved the pegasus’ sour mood. She chuckled. “Be right back!” Before either unicorn could ask her plans, she was gone, leaving a trail of dust and colour in her wake. A short, low-altitude flight over a ridge and above the treetops took her out of sight of her friends, whereupon she breathed a sigh of profound relief. “Hope your kid grows up to be more interesting than you, Twi,” she grumbled under her breath, before her attention was captured by something on the ground. She grinned.

The unicorn duo she had abandoned had barely made fifty paces of headway along the path without their flighty companion when Rainbow returned, bearing three large, red, and dreamily delicious-looking apples in her forehooves.

Twilight’s eyes scanned the fruit-bereft field around them, then returned, dilated, to the fresh produce. “Where did you get those?”

“There’s an apple cellar over there.” Rainbow pointed.

A quick gasp came from the white pony in the group. “Rainbow Dash, are you telling us you stole those apples?”

The pegasus blew a dismissive raspberry. “I didn’t steal them! Applejack told me once that if I was feeling hungry, I could just take a few apples from the field, since we’re friends – and so I did. I’m not a thief!”

“Hmph.” Rarity’s muzzle wrinkled at the explanation. “Well, I can picture Applejack saying something like that to be cordial, but, friend or not, breaking into one of her cellars and just taking part of her harvest without asking properly – that’s unthinkably rude! You could’ve waited until we met with Applejack. I’m certain Twilight shares my misgivings. Isn’t that right?”

Twilight’s stomach answered the query with another rumble as her cheeks pinkened. She faced the fruit-laden pegasus, looking more intrigued than chafed at her behaviour. Delicious red curves swam in the pupils of her violet eyes and her nostrils flared with a sharp intake. “Uh, well...” A soft pink tongue brushed against purple lips. “Technically, we are honorary members of the Apple family... and I’m sure Applejack won’t miss three apples out of the thousands she’s harvested...”

Grinning victoriously, Rainbow Dash rolled a crimson fruit down one of her forelegs, delivering it into the air with a showy flick. Twilight’s aura grasped it greedily, and the unicorn dug her jaws into the treat, barely managing to squeeze in a quick “Thanks” before doing so.

Rarity, making no secret of her displeasure, turned her muzzle up and away from the display, refusing to even react when Rainbow proffered one of the allegedly ill-gotten apples. The pegasus, unperturbed, began brazenly munching on one of the juicy prizes herself.

“Speaking of Applejack,” she mumbled though stuffed cheeks, “what’s your plan? How are you going to do this?”

Twilight swallowed down the remnants of the snack she had devoured with a mere two prodigious bites, exhaled, and looked to the sky thoughtfully. “Well... I know how I’m not going to do this: I’m not going to cry, or get angry, or yell, or insult anypony. I’m going to calmly explain my circumstances to Applejack, and tell her that I hope we can still be friends. Since my story will probably come as a big shock to her, I will be understanding if Applejack gets upset, and I will respect her feelings and opinions, whatever they may be.”

“So, you’re just going to come out and say it right off the bat?” Rainbow questioned.

“Well, no. I’ll start off by trying to gauge how Applejack feels about unorthodox relationships. If it becomes clear that she’s not accepting, I’ll probably back off.”

“While that does sound like a reasonable approach,” Rarity broke her affronted silence, “if you are planning to question Applejack in regards to a... ‘hypothetical relationship’... I strongly suggest that you pick an example that does not involve you being intimate with your own father.”

Twilight’s eyebrow lowered. “You really think there’s such a big difference between a sexual relationship with a sibling and with a parent?”

Rarity’s eyes went wide, as if she’d just been told her coat had been turned lime green. “Wh– Of course there is! The emotional dynamics can’t even be compared!”

Twilight frowned and turned to Rainbow Dash, who expressed her lack of opinion with a noncommittal shrug of her shoulders. “Don’t look at me. Can’t say I’ve ever been seriously attracted to my dad, but hey, if that’s what floats your cloud, I’m not going to judge.” Once again, she presented the remaining apple to Rarity, who, once again, pointedly refused the gift.

Twilight, in contrast, eagerly accepted the opportunity to sate her still-growling tummy.

Rainbow waited until her friend’s mouth was stuffed full of applelicious mush before adding, “Now my uncle Prism Shield – I always wanted him to rut me.”

Chunks of fruit sprayed a good five yards down the path. Twilight coughed and wheezed, her eyes bugging out of their sockets. Rainbow landed and began patting her withers, all the while doing a rather poor job at holding back a flood of snickers.

“Rainbow!” Twilight cried once she had spat out the worst of the blockage and her power of speech had returned.

Her friend laughed openly. “Consider that payback for the lecture!”

“I’m pregnant!” the unicorn admonished, wiping at her face.

“So what? Does that mean I can’t even joke around with you anymore?”

“Not while I have a pony inside me!” Twilight glared.

Rainbow’s eyes turned up theatrically. “Okay, okay. I guess I can take it easy on you for a while. Five months left, right?” She smirked.

Her unicorn friend grunted out an indeterminate response.

The next couple of minutes were spent in silence, Twilight implicitly setting the pace for the two ponies at her sides. The sun drifted lower still, and a cold wind elicited shivers from the trio. Fortunately, their destination – the Apple family homestead – came into view over the trail’s nearest rise. Rather than attempting to outrun the chill, however, the pregnant mare’s hoofsteps slowed noticeably.

“Hey.” Rainbow poked her gently. “Don’t be nervous! Applejack’s cool. She’s not going to have a problem just because you’re into freaky three-ways with your brother and your sister-in-law... and got yourself pregnant because of it.” She scratched her chin. “Probably.”

Twilight corrected, “Technically, that time, it was just me with Shining by ourselves...” This admission earned her suspicious stares. “Cadance knew!” she quickly clarified.

“I wish I could be so optimistic,” Rarity chimed in with a sigh, “but Applejack is a family mare, with an older brother of her own. Family bonds and tradition mean everything to her. I’m not so certain that she will take this information very well.”

“Aww, come on,” Rainbow argued, “for all we know, Applejack and Big MacIntosh have been doing each other. Celestia knows they spend so much time on the farm with only each other for company while Apple Bloom’s in school and Granny Smith is doing... whatever it is old folks do all day. Complaining? Anyway, things tend to happen when you keep a couple of hard-working, sweaty ponies close together all the time like that.”

The white unicorn’s face twisted in a mix of offense and disbelief. “I hardly think that’s very likely! Applejack may act uncouth at times, but she is a principled mare.” Her eyes were closed as she spoke, and thus did not witness Twilight wincing slightly. “And besides, what would be the chances of both Twilight and Applejack being embroiled in this manner of forbidden relationship?”

“At this point, exactly the same as they would be for just Applejack,” the other unicorn answered, to her friends’ surprise. “My being in an incestuous relationship and Applejack being in an incestuous relationship are independent events. While it’s true that the probability of any two random ponies matching those criteria is extremely low, my state is already known, and therefore not random. The probability of me being in an incestuous relationship is effectively one hundred percent. The probability of Applejack being in one is the same as it would be for anypony about whom we have no information.”

Rarity stared. “Twilight, you don’t seriously believe that–”

“No.” The other unicorn’s head shook. “I don’t think Applejack and Big MacIntosh are together like that. It’s just... you know... math.”

Another uncomfortable silence befell them.

“And why exactly isn’t it principled?!” Twilight said, taking both Rarity and Rainbow Dash aback with the sudden force of her challenge. “What exactly is wrong with consenting incestuous relationships?”

The other mare required a few seconds to gather herself. Her voice, though calm and refined, bore a harsh edge. “I’m simply concerned that in any relationship between family members, one pony will have undue influence over another. I’m not certain true consent is possible.”

“But you would’ve had no problem with me having an affair with one of my professors from Celestia’s School For Gifted Unicorns?” the purple pony reminded her. “Wouldn’t that be a relationship of ‘undue influence’?”

The group had stopped at this point, Rarity and Twilight facing off, each showing signs of frustration with the other, but both still trotting within the bounds of civility, as Rainbow watched them curiously from the sidelines.

“While I admit that there may be complications involved, there is an important difference: If a relationship between a teacher and student should turn ugly, it can be ended. If the student feels oppressed, she can simply stop being a student, or find herself a different teacher.” The white mare stood herself straighter, poise confident and tone firm. “One cannot abandon one’s family so easily – short of somepony dying, of course – nor can one simply choose to replace one’s family with other ponies. That relationship is irreplaceable, but it can be permanently damaged. Please believe me when I say that I don’t wish you or Shining Armor any misfortune, Twilight, but should something distasteful happen between the two of you, would you truly be capable of breaking up your... romance... yet continue to love each other as brother and sister?”

“Yes!” Twilight replied instantly.

Rarity waited.

“I mean... probably.” Twilight’s expression wavered. “I mean, it might not be easy, but as long as we both act like reasonable ponies, which we are... I’m sure we could work through any issues... it– it would just be a matter of setting the appropriate boundaries and... and coming to an agreement and...”

Her hoof scraped at the dirt. A sad frown clouded her countenance.

“I... I hope so.” She stared at the ground between them, idly toying with a random pebble for a few moments before flicking it away and facing the other unicorn, all her confrontational affect now gone. A weary sigh escaped her. “You have a point,” she conceded at last.

Rarity offered a conciliatory nod, and the group resumed their travel.

“But that won’t be necessary, because my relationship with Shining Armor is perfectly fine,” Twilight asserted after a minute. “I mean, I’m pregnant, for Celestia’s sake! It’s a huge deal that was absolutely not supposed to happen, but it did, and Shining Armor and Cadance both support me. If there was ever a challenge to our love, this has to be it, doesn’t it? Things can’t possibly get any more messed up than they are right now, and we’re all dealing with it just fine.”

The other unicorn said nothing as she looked straight ahead, the only reaction being a nigh-unnoticeable narrowing of her eyes.

“The only risk right now is my friendship with Applejack, and I’m confident that as long as I introduce the subject gradually and carefully–”

“And delicately,” came the advice.

“–I’ll be able to assess her opinions and steer the conversation towards my goal.”

“Hmm. Perhaps I can help,” Rarity suggested, looking distantly ahead in thought. “If you’d like, I can be ready to interject with a casual change of topic should Applejack appear less than accepting of your line of reasoning.”

Twilight’s face brightened, and she stopped once again. “That’s a very clever idea, Rarity!” Her eyes flitted side-to-side, as if reading from some invisible book. “Maybe we should set up a few code words, so that we all know if it’s time to change the subject or abandon the conversation completely. Rainbow, would you be willing to wait outside and listen in, and if I mention anything about... ‘Las Pegasus’, take that as a sign to come in and tell me that Spike is sick or something, and I need to come to the library right away?”

Rarity’s muzzle had taken on an engaged smile. “Ooh, I like it. And mentioning ‘Appleloosa’ could mean that we only need a momentary distraction. Rainbow Dash, if you hear either of us say ‘Appleloosa’, tell Applejack that there’s some strange animal outside that’s bothering her livestock. When she investigates and finds nothing, you can just pretend it ran off.”

“Applejack might get suspicious if we keep mentioning place names, though.” Twilight furiously scribbled with a quill and parchment she had magically summoned. “We’ll also need non-verbal signs to communicate with each other. Like scratching behind the left ear could mean that the other pony should draw attention to herself.”

“And a scratch behind the right ear will indicate that we need a moment alone to discuss strategy!”

“That’s brilliant!” Twilight smiled giddily. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before! Let’s brainstorm a list of plausible excuses we can use to leave the room–”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake!” Rainbow cried. “Listen to you! This isn’t some spy mission! We’re just going to talk with Applejack – you know, the dependable, honest pony? She’s a tough mare; you don’t need to walk on eggshells around her. If you want to know how she feels about incest, you just straight-up ask her!”

The two unicorns exchanged worried looks.

“Rainbow, that’s really not a good idea.”

“I agree. We must do this with the utmost delicateness, so as not to risk upsetting–”

“Forget this!” the cyan pony scoffed. “If you’re both too chicken, I’ll save you the trouble and just do it myself. Be back in a flash!”

“Rainbow, WAI–!”

The pegasus was gone in a blast of spectral velocity before the other two ponies could even finish a single sentence of protest, leaving them choking on a cloud of her dust once again.

A ‘flash’ would be a fairly accurate descriptor of the length of Rainbow’s journey, as she sailed over the lone remaining hill to the scenic trail’s terminus. Spotting the doors of the barn open, the airborne pony deftly changed her target away from the attached farmhouse she’d been initially aiming for. Cyan hooves landed smoothly at the entrance of the large wooden structure, digging neat furrows in the hard-packed dirt.

Her gaze immediately found the mare she sought.

Applejack’s orange coat stood well-highlighted by the fading day’s illumination coming in through the barn’s double doors. The farmpony was presently busying herself sorting roped-up bales of hay against the far wall of the structure, and, by appearances, was nearly finished with her task, as the only remaining bundle was in her grip. Spotting Rainbow, she used an ear to politely tip her hat to her guest. With a thick rope stuffed in her muzzle, she didn’t attempt a verbal greeting.

The pegasus approached her casually. “Hey, A.J. Got a minute to talk?”

The earth pony tossed her current bale toward a corner and turned to face Rainbow in one impressively effortless pirouette. She wiped her brow. “Sure thing, Dash. What can I do ya for?” The hay landed with a dull thud behind her, finishing off the perfectly-organized stack already there.

Dash smirked indecently. “With the friend discount, I’d say a hundred bits should cover it.”

“Huh?” There was a pause, as Applejack lowered first one eyebrow, then the other, then raised them both in irked epiphany. “Oh.” She rolled her green eyes disdainfully. “Very funny, Rainbow. Bein’ serious now, what d’ya need?”

The cyan mare rubbed her neck with affected nonchalance. “So, here’s the thing: You’re a practical sort of pony, right?”

“Uh, yeah, I’d like ta think so.” The earth pony adjusted her Stetson.

“And you’re not all prude-y about sex, are you?” Rainbow questioned.

Applejack’s head jumped back half an inch, though her composure remained mostly intact. “No, I... I don’t think so. I got nothin’ ’gainst ponies havin’ a good roll in the hay once in a while – even if they ain’t married, if that’s what ya mean.” One of her eyes squinted. “What’re ya gettin’ at, exactly?”

Rainbow slowly closed the distance between them. “So, you think that two ponies who want to screw around with each other should be able to do that, as long as nopony’s getting hurt, right?”

The farmpony began to fidget slightly, her hooves seemingly undecided about whether a retreat was yet warranted. She stood her ground as Rainbow came closer. “Well, uh... yes. I reckon that sounds ’bout right. If they both want to...” She eyed the other mare cautiously, clearly on guard for where this conversation might be headed. “Rainbow, are... are ya suggestin’ somethin’?”

It was now Rainbow Dash’s turn to be bemused. “What...? Oh...!” She gripped her stomach as she laughed. “No! I wasn’t talking about us, A.J.!” She stood straight, giving a suggestive sideways glance. “Unless you’re interested, of course...” A corner of her lips twisted up.

Applejack sighed in annoyance. “No, Rainbow,” she refused flatly. “Now, are ya plannin’ on makin’ dirty jokes till suppertime like some schoolyard filly or is there a real problem I can help ya with?”

The pegasus cleared her throat. “Okay, I just came here to ask one question: You don’t see anything wrong with two ponies screwing around, right – even if those two ponies are brother and sister?”

“Whu– what?!” Applejack nearly collapsed onto her rump, taking several steps backward in the process. Her eyes widened in abject terror. “What’re ya talkin’ ’bout, Rainbow?!” she asked with a voice that was suddenly an uncharacteristic octave higher.

The cyan mare tilted her head and her eyes narrowed. “I mean, the way I figure it, you’re the type of pony who’s cool with family having... you, know, fun?”

“Well, um, uh... what... sorta fun are we talkin’ here?” Bullets of sweat were rapidly forming on the earth pony’s forehead, and her eyes were darting wildly about the barn.

Dash groaned. “Oh, come on! Do I have to spell it out for you? I already said we’re talking about sex. You know, incest. Brother and sister doing each other. ‘I love you, little sis.’ ‘I love you big bro. Now fuck me!’ You’re totally down with that stuff, right, A.J.?”

“I– I–” Applejack’s hindquarters finally hit the ground. Her face hid behind the brim of her Stetson as a small shudder passed through her, ears down to fetlocks, while her present companion looked on, appearing more confused by the second. Finally, the answer came, quiet and choked through the throat of a pony ready to burst into tears. “Yeah. Yeah, Rainbow Dash, I am.”

The pegasus’ face brightened instantly. “Awesome! I knew I was right about you! Hah! For a second there you had me worried that I had you figured all wrong.” She slapped Applejack on the back, getting a surprised yelp in return.

The earth pony looked up uncertainly and wiped something from her eyes. “Wait, so... you’re okay with it?”

“Of course I am! I actually think it’s pretty hot. Sure, finding out one of my best friends is banging her big brother was a bit of a surprise, but, hey, it’s all good.”

An appreciative smile formed on the blonde mare’s face. “Thanks Dash, that... it means a lot to me that one o’ my friends can accept that sorta thing.” She exhaled, relief palpable in her posture. “So, how did you find out?”

“How? Twilight told me.”

“Twilight?!” the earth pony asked, obviously surprised. “B– but... How? Ah mean, where did she–”

“Yeah, I know, right? I wasn’t expecting to hear that from her. But now she’s going around telling everypony.”

“She’s tellin’ everypony?!” Applejack’s jaw nearly hit the floor as she began sweating anew and her breathing turned quick and shallow.

“Well, not everypony; just our friends,” Rainbow amended. “That’s why I’m here. I wanted to know how you felt about it.”

The other mare shook her head rapidly and climbed to her hooves, trading some of her stupefied demeanor for sheer panic. “No! She can’t do that! She can’t just go around crowin’ to the whole town like a rooster on Sunday mornin’! Who has she told?! Ya gotta tell me. Who else knows, Rainbow Dash?!”

“Aaah! Let go!” The pegasus’ wings beat back, extricating her from Applejack’s desperate grip. “What’s gotten into you, A.J.?!”

“Who knows!?”

“Just me and Rarity for now,” Rainbow Dash answered, rubbing her shoulder. “Oh, and Cadance and Shining Armor, of course.”

“She told her brother and the princess?!” Applejack demanded through heaving breaths. “Oh, Sweet Celestia an’ Luna both, we gotta go an’ stop her right now!”

“Rainbow Dash!” Twilight called out, arriving at the barn’s entrance along with Rarity, both mares panting for air and on shaky hooves after their brief catch-up gallop.

“Twilight!” the earth pony shouted, angry despair painted on her face and genuine betrayal in her quavering voice. “How could ya do somethin’ like this?!”

The unicorn gasped, her expression flipping between an accusatory glare at Rainbow Dash, and a hurt, timid glance at the obviously-incensed Applejack. She swallowed. “I... I...”

“Twilight, ya gotta stop this right now! Ya can’t tell anypony else, ya hear me?! It’s gotta stay between us,” the orange mare commanded, her eyes shimmering and pleading. “It’ll be fine long as no one else finds out.”

The pregnant purple pony looked to each of her friends in turn, catching sight of two vaguely confused faces and one mired in fiery desperation. She brought a hoof to her chest, inhaled, then drew it out as her breath released. “Applejack,” she said with zen-like collectedness and firm but non-threatening eye contact, “I understand that you’re upset, I value your viewpoint, and I appreciate your advice, but I have decided that this is something I should let my closest friends know. I just can’t keep it a secret any longer.” She added a firm nod. “I’ve considered it, and I really think it’s for the best.”

“Twilight, please... I... I understand ya mean well, but this ain’t what a true friend does!” Applejack continued to implore with a pained grimace. “This is the sorta thing only Big MacIntosh an’ I have the right to tell ponies about. We need to be the ones to decide who knows about us foolin’ around together, not you!”

For a few seconds, the barn was so quiet that it would’ve been possible to hear a pin drop onto cotton candy.

“What.”

“What?”

“What?!”

The situation was held in place for an indeterminate length of time, frozen by the dumbfounded stares of four ponies who presently offered as many signs of sentience as the dress forms in Rarity’s shop usually did.

Rainbow Dash was the first to break.

“No... no, no, this can’t be happening.” Her face was rent in half by a smile which was too large for it to contain, her lungs already beginning to spasm and her hoof beating at the dirt. “Oh, this is just too rich! Applejack’s been doing the dirty with her brother! Bwahahahahahah!” She collapsed, her eyes rolling back in their sockets, limbs turned upward and twitching in tune with her escalating peals.

Twilight was the next to speak, after managing to pick up her own jaw out of the dirt. “Applejack, you’ve been having sex with Big MacIntosh?!”

The earth pony’s coat shone with a thin layer of cold sweat. Her lips trembled. Her eyes flittered this way and that in panic. “I... I thought you knew!”

“I had no idea!”

“But... but you an’ Rainbow...”

The pegasus lay drowned in paroxysmal laughter. “No– I– I can’t... Applejack and Big Mac... incest– it’s too much! Hahahahahahhahahah!”

Applejack’s cheeks had turned from their natural light orange to a lifeless, almost off-white peach as she gazed at the shocked expressions of the other two ponies in the barn. “Whu– what... I don’t understand.”

“Applejack, it’s okay,” Twilight said, holding up a hoof in a placating ‘I-mean-no-harm’ gesture. “I don’t know what Rainbow Dash has told you–” She stared daggers at the incapacitated winged pony. “–but we didn’t even come to talk about that with you.”

“You didn’t?” Applejack was still trembling and pulling in quick gasps.

“No.”

Her vision jumped over everypony in the space, from the howling Rainbow Dash, to the surprised-yet-controlled Twilight, to the shocked and still-silent Rarity. Tears rolled down her muzzle and she hung her head, concealing it beneath her hat. Her voice shook. “I... I’m sorry, I didn’t want y’all to find out. Not like this...”

“Applejack, it’s fine,” Twilight assured her, offering a calming smile that the other mare couldn’t see.

“No, it ain’t!”

Rarity had a hoof to her head. “Applejack, dear... While I must say that I’m as shocked as anypony at what I’ve just heard, and I’m not altogether... pleased at having heard it, I can assure you that you are among friends, and your secret does not have to leave this barn.”

The earth pony was still breathing hard and fast as she licked a few tears from her lips and rubbed the back of her foreleg over her nose. “Oh, heavens, what ya’ll must think o’ me right now...”

“Actually,” Rarity said, “the matter we’ve come to discuss with you is, I would say, a level above mere secret amorous play between siblings, and our attention still lays there. To put it simply: This is more serious than what you’ve just inadvertently confessed to.”

From the maelstrom of emotion raging through Applejack’s form, a fresh gale of alarm burst forth. She looked up, ears perked and eyes large. “More serious? What’re ya talkin’ about, Rarity?”

“Well... in a word: pregnancy.”

“I ain’t pregnant!” Applejack shot back – then immediately went back to exuding a fearful uncertainty. She stared at Twilight, begging for some kind of clarification, “A– Am I?”

The purple unicorn was taken aback by the question. “I don’t know, Applejack. Are you?”

“What?!”

“Bahahahahahahaha!” Rainbow Dash rolled over, pounding her forehooves against the ground. “You– no.... Ahahahahaha! Just... tell her!”

“I mean, no, you’re not pregnant!” Twilight shook her head. “I mean, I have no reason to believe that Big MacIntosh got you pregnant, if that’s what you’re worried about. I really didn’t know that you were involved with your own brother. But I am and I’m the one who’s pregnant!”

“Big Mac got you pregnant!?!”

“AH DID WHAT!?!?!”

A metal toolbox fell from Big MacIntosh’s muzzle, banging open and noisily spewing its contents into the dirt. The large red stallion stood at the barn’s entryway, frozen in the same brand of stupefied horror that the room had already been witness to, though his was an order of magnitude more severe.

“Ahahahahahaha... no... hahaha... stop...!”

“Big Mac, tell me it ain’t true!

“What?!”

“Tell me you didn’t knock up one o’ my friends!”

“I didn’t!”

“She says ya did!”

“She’s lyin’!”

“Applejack, I never said that!”

“Yes, ya did!”

“I didn’t mean to say that I had sex with your brother! I was only comparing my situation to yours because you’ve been having sex with him.”

“A.J.! You told ’em!? You swore you wouldn’t!”

“No, I didn’t tell ’em!”

“Applejack, darling, I’m afraid you did.”

“Hahahahaha... help... can’t... hahahahaha... breathe...!”

“How could you do that?!”

“I’m sorry, Big Macintosh! They were talkin’ about us and I thought...!”

“No, we weren’t! Clearly there’s been a miscommunication, but it’s not my fault...”

“Perhaps it would be in everypony’s best interests if we all took a moment–”

“Applejack, who else have you told?!”

“Nopony! I swear it! Who else have ya been screwin’ around with?!”

“Nopony! You know me better’n that, A.J.!”

“Then what does Twilight bein’ pregnant have ta do with you!?”

“You’re pregnant!?”

“Yes! That’s what I’ve been trying to say this whole time!”

“Haha... gonna... hahahhhh... die! Hahhhh... some... hhha... p– pony hhhha... H– help!”

“Applejack, what exactly did Rainbow Dash tell you before we arrived?”

“She asked what I thought o’ brothers an’ sisters ruttin’! I thought she was talkin’ ’bout me and Big Mac, so... so...”

“So you just decided to spill the beans ’bout us an’ tell her everythin’?”

“I didn’t tell her everythin’! Well... nearly, but I thought our secret was out! It ain’t my fault! I was tryin’ to keep control!”

“Applejack, you’re looking a bit pale. Perhaps you should sit down...”

“I can’t believe you did this! I told you if anypony found out they’d never look at us the same way again...”

“For the record, we have nothing against incest. In fact–”

“Actually, I do have some reservations, personally, though I realise this isn’t the ideal moment...”

“Hhhhahhh.... ahhhhh.... urkhhhhh....”

“An’ this one’s been sayin’ Twilight’s been tellin’ everypony about us! I jus’ wanted ta stop her!”

“She can’t do that! We got more’n enough problems as it–”

“Everypony quieeeeet!” Twilight shouted at the top of her lungs. “Applejack, I haven’t been having sex with Big MacIntosh, and he certainly didn’t get me pregnant! As far as I know, you’re not pregnant, either. I really had no idea that you’ve been having sex with him until you told us all just now, and I couldn’t have been telling anypony about it because I didn’t know! I have nothing against you and Big MacIntosh having sex, and I won’t tell anypony, and neither will the rest of us. We’re still your friends and your secret’s safe. The reason I came here was to tell you that I’m pregnant, and the father of my foal is Shining Armor – my brother!”

The orange pony, who had been the decisive front-runner of the hyperventilation contest taking place in her barn, wobbled from side to side. “Ohhh... wellhh...thammmakessenseahguess...” Then, at long last, she mercifully passed out.

By that point, Rainbow Dash was already unconscious.

Author's Notes:

My thanks go out to my pre-readers: Journeyman and Skeeter the Lurker (yes, that guy who's everywhere all the time!)

To answer the question pre-emptively: Yes, this is what I had planned for Applejack from the very beginning. In fact, a few small scraps of this chapter, mainly dialogue, had been written as far back as January 2013. (It is now November; This can give you some hints as to the pace of my writing.)

I'm not done with Applejack yet, but thanks to my dividing my chapters into smaller and smaller pieces, the latter half of Twilight's confession to A.J. has been shunted off to the next part.

Why did I shove Applejack into this seemingly cliché situation?

Well, shortly after writing "Complicated Relations", with a few people encouraging me to do a sequel, I came up with two mutually-incompatible storylines for a suitable follow-up tale. The first idea focussed on Applejack and her secret being revealed to the whole town through accident, with Twilight then revealing her own incestuous relationship to her friends as a means of offering support to Applejack. A.J. and Twilight would have featured equally, there would be no pregnancy scare, and Rarity's and Rainbow's roles would be effectively the opposite of what they are now. And Rainbow would be the one rushing to have tea with Celestia.

The second idea was the fic you're reading right now.

Much of Applejack's plot here, and in the next part, consists of remnants of that first storyline; a kind of flurry of Shout Outs to a story that will never be written.

Divulgence (Part II)

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Author's Note: I am well-aware that this chapter is huge. Although I couldn't decide on any spot that would act as a good break, that does not mean you have to read it all in one go. Feel free to take a break whenever a pony starts telling their individual story. Or whenever you feel like it, really.

Applejack opened her eyes. Starting from the closest, her gaze moved sequentially through each pony presently forming a concerned semicircle around the couch she lay on; two unicorn mares, one pegasus mare, and one large earth pony stallion. Twilight was glad to see that her impromptu patient’s every look was one of immediate recognition.

Feeling at her forehead, Applejack’s hoof removed the damp washcloth which had been placed there just seconds prior.

“Yo, Applejack? You alright?” Rainbow Dash asked, coming in a little closer. “How many hooves am I holding up?”

The orange pony’s scowl showed that, if nothing else, she had understood both the question as well as its agonising triteness. “Uhh. What happened?” she slurred half-dazedly.

Having already taken over de facto leadership duties of Applejack’s care, Twilight shoved the pegasus aside, collected the discarded cloth, and proceeded to examine the supine mare’s pupils – something she knew could hold hints to any potential brain damage. They appeared normal even as their owner flinched at her up-close scrutiny, and the rest of Twilight’s mental flowchart was updated accordingly; there would most likely be no need to get her friend to a hospital. “You collapsed in the barn,” she said, making sure to enunciate her words loudly and clearly. “We brought you inside the house because it was getting cold and dark. You’ve been unconscious for about five minutes. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

The downed mare moved her head in a tiny nod.

Twilight sighed in relief. “Good. You’re showing the classic symptoms of reflex syncope. I think it was just situational stress that triggered your episode,” she explained, momentarily glaring the fires of Tartaros at Rainbow Dash. “You should be fine if you just rest a bit. If you feel up to it, you can try sitting up. Slowly,” she cautioned.

Another nod. With a cyan and a purple hoof guiding her, Applejack lifted her upper body and sat on her haunches, a brief sway giving way to a more solid position. For a moment she seemed to be searching for something around the room, but located it soon enough. Twilight followed her line of sight to the familiar Stetson lying on a nearby table, which Rarity had remembered to bring along from the barn where it had been rudely separated from its collapsed owner. She laughed inwardly at her friends’ priorities, but the mirth died away quickly.

Applejack looked crestfallen. Her gaze had affixed itself firmly to the floor. “Wasn’t a dream, was it?”

“Nope,” Big MacIntosh stated.

“Then… ya’ll know ’bout me an’ Big Mac…?”

“Indeed,” Rarity confirmed.

The earth pony winced, and finally looked at Twilight – but not quite up to the level of the unicorn’s face. “And… you’re really…?”

“Yes,” Twilight answered, giving her enlarged belly a quick stroke. “Six-and-a-half months.”

“And ya said that… Shining Armor? Really?”

“Yeah, really,” Rainbow Dash interrupted before Twilight could begin. “Hah! You two should form a club, you kno– mwwwmmm– mmphffff– bleh!” She spat out the rag which had been stuffed into her mouth by what had clearly been two distinct shades of magic aura.

Applejack showed little, if any, reaction to the winged mare’s antics, instead looking at Twilight with an expression that the purple pony was having trouble interpreting. If she had to guess, she’d call it worry, but it was also tinted with something else. Curiosity, maybe. Or… purpose?

“Are… you okay, Twilight?” the earth pony asked cautiously, as if even this simple question could be taken for an insult.

“I’m fine. I had a medical check-up recently, and everything’s normal with me and the foal,” Twilight replied. “I’ve already decided I’m going to raise her here in Ponyville.”

“I meant… uh… did… yer brother… uh… I mean… are ya, y’know… alright?” Applejack pressed.

Twilight greatly disliked the way ponies often surrendered perspicuity in the name of tact. She wished her friend would be more straightforward, since the current question could be interpreted many different ways, each necessitating a different class of answer. Twilight certainly felt alright, both emotionally and physically. The tone of Applejack’s words was so weighty and sharp that it almost made it sound like a threat toward…

It clicked. The pattern matched. Celestia had asked the same thing. She’d been asking…

“I’m perfectly fine,” the unicorn insisted. “Shining Armor would never do that! It was consensual.” She chuckled. “Believe me, it was very consensual.” Remembering that she had an audience, she produced a conspicuous cough and changed the subject before her face had a chance to heat up. “Are you feeling any light-headedness? Nausea? Are there any disruptions to your vision? Black spots? White spots? Can you hear everything I’m saying clearly?”

“Uh, yeah, I think I’m good.” Applejack’s hoof kneaded against her chest. “Feelin’ a lil’ thirsty, I guess...”

“I’m on it!” Rainbow Dash volunteered, rushing off. For once, the action was particularly appropriate.

“Any other symptoms?” Twilight grasped Applejack’s fetlock to check her pulse.

“No.” The earth pony shook her head. “It was just… stress… like ya said before.” She sniffed. “Oh, Celestia, what’ve I done?” She buried her face in her hooves.

Twilight hesitated at first, unsure of how to proceed, but ultimately decided to go through with her first instinct and joined her friend on the couch, delicately wrapping a forelimb over the earth pony’s withers. Applejack didn’t react. She wasn’t crying, though she did seem morbidly embarrassed by the whole situation, with her eyes reduced to thin slivers and her ears plastered against her temples as her hooves fell away. ‘I can’t really blame her,’ Twilight thought as she noted that, slowly but surely, Applejack was already starting to come around. ‘At least the worst is over.’ In actuality, the young unicorn could see this becoming a positive influence on their friendship. Once the awkwardness of the unplanned and admittedly disastrously-executed revelation subsided, she and Applejack would have common ground on which to share their experiences and bond. Unquestionably uncommon common ground.

For most of her life, Twilight could talk openly with only her brother about their illicit relationship. While he had proven himself to be a considerate – if sometimes clueless – partner in both intercourse and the other kind of intercourse, he was a male, with typically male thoughts and needs. More recently, Twilight had been able to confide in her new sister-in-law, whose open-minded views on love and its myriad expressions had been nothing short of fascinating. But even the youthful princess hadn’t had the raw personal experience of hiding away a forbidden liaison; of risking all respect and reputation and submerging in conspiracy for a taboo moment of erotic bliss.

But Applejack did. She and Twilight were more alike than either of them had ever expected, and there was so much to discuss.

The pregnant pony was already halfway into excitedly formulating an incest-topiced questionnaire when Rainbow arrived carrying a tall glass of opaque, bright, orange-yellow liquid, and presented it to the earth pony with a smile that spoke of some inside joke between the two.

It was orange juice.

Given the earth pony’s well-known penchant for liking all things made from the fruit that was her namesake, Twilight was surprised to see the not-even-remotely-apple juice pull a genuine, if small, smile from her – the first one she’d seen the farmpony make that day.

“Thanks, R.D.,” Applejack said, grasping the glass and drinking greedily. In short order, she had consumed the contents, and allowed herself a sigh that was, if not outright content, then at least neutral.

“Ow!” the pegasus cried when a white hoof struck painfully into her side. “Okay, okay! I was just about to say it!” She made a show of clearing her throat as she faced her earth pony friend, her eyes lolling about the ceiling while her mouth recited in monotone, “Applejack, I’m very sorry for laughing back in the barn. I wasn’t laughing at you; I just thought the situation was funny. Our friends have let me know that my behaviour was inappropriate. I should’ve been more sensitive to your feelings and been there to support you. It’s obviously a serious matter to you and I will respect that from now on. Will you forgive me?”

Rarity had facehoofed halfway through, and Twilight barely held back the urge to do so herself. Even Big MacIntosh offered a look that was clearly somewhere south of ‘not impressed’. Applejack, on the other hoof, had gone wide-eyed and her mouth opened slightly. “You’re apologisin’ ta me? You don’t need ta… I mean, I… I forgive ya, Rainbow Dash.”

The pegasus grinned. “So, we’re cool?”

Her friend did likewise. “Yeah.”

“Hah!” She looked triumphantly to Rarity, who stared back with eyes that, if looks could kill, would have incinerated the pegasus on the spot.

“Ah-hem.”

“Oh, right. And I took three apples from the south cellar.”

Applejack frowned. “Well, now that ya could’ve asked about first.” She sighed. “I guess that’s fine, too. Not like I woulda said no, anyway.”

“Twilight was hungry, too,” Dash defended herself, “and she’s pregnant. It’s important for her to keep her energy up. It was practically an apple emergency.”

“Rainbow!” Twilight chided. “It was not!”

“It’s okay, everypony,” Applejack said. “I really don’t mind. Ya’ll are my friends–” Her voice caught on the word, and she looked down again.

“Applejack, we are,” Twilight assured, rubbing the earth pony’s back comfortingly.

“Totally,” Rainbow Dash confirmed.

They both stared expectantly at the remaining unicorn.

Rarity’s eyes flicked aside. She swallowed a large breath before speaking. “While I don’t necessarily consider the kind of liaison you and your brother have engaged in to be the best of ideas, Applejack, I will not permit it to interfere with our friendship.”

“Oh, come on!” Rainbow Dash moaned. “If you’re gonna be like that, why did you even come with us?”

“One does not have to approve of everything one’s friend does in order to support her in her time of need. That is called loyalty, Rainbow Dash; which is something I would expect you of all ponies to understand. And I’m simply being honest with Applejack, which is something I hope she will understand is born out of my respect for her.”

“Uh, guys,” Twilight interrupted, hoping to dispel the nascent argument. “Could we save this for another time? I think we need to focus on Applejack right now.”

“I’m fine,” the earth pony stated, bit-by-bit reconstructing her characteristic confidence and a raising a solid smile to go with it. “Rainbow, I’m real glad I can count on ya, but ya don’t need to be defendin’ me. Not now, anyway. I can handly myself. An’ Rarity, I do appreciate yer honesty. To tell ya the truth, you’re takin’ this much better than I woulda guessed. You all are. I can’t tell ya how grateful I am to have friends like you.”

She turned. “And Twilight... I’m mighty sorry for stirrin’ up all this here drama. Here I am fussin’ ’bout myself like some lil’ filly losin’ her lolly at the carnival, when you’re the one in a real pickle come lookin’ fer my support.” It had taken a few minutes, but Applejack at last returned – with interest – the hug she had been given, encasing her unicorn friend with much-welcomed warmth. “I want ya ta know, I’m here for ya. An’ in case it ain’t obvious, I won’t be judgin’ ya for bein’ with yer brother.”

Twilight beamed, eagerly expanding her own embrace to include both forelegs. “Thank you, Applejack.”

“I gotta know, though. You bein’ pregnant... that was an accident, right? Please tell me ya didn’t actually plan on makin’ a baby with yer own blood.”

“It was an accident,” Twilight answered as she withdrew from the hug. A thunderhead of anger rolled over her features. “Or, more accurately, it was negligence on the part of a certain book author and publisher, who neglected to mention that their supposedly four-nines-effective contraception spell would have a much higher chance of failure under specific circumstances that would make a failure even worse than it would be ordinarily – which is a warning that any self-respecting manual should have included! Using bold print. And underline. And ALL CAPITALS!”

Only when Twilight had finished did she notice the very confused quartet of ponies watching her. There was also an irritating noise infecting the room, which she quickly identified as coming from her own grinding teeth. She stopped that.

Rarity spoke up. “So, I presume you’ve identified the error that has led to your present situation?”

“Yes, I have, thanks to an experiment I ran.” Twilight recalled how her rage at the perfidious tome had sent even her seasoned assistant scrambling for cover. “I had to decompile the spell myself, since the book didn’t include a basic thaumatocompositional diagram, but now I know precisely what went wrong.” She huffed, throwing her hooves in the air. “Books aren’t supposed to be wrong! They have to be accurate. Hundreds, even thousands of ponies rely on them every day! They’re supposed to be written by experts and have reviewers and fact-checkers and technical editors and general editors–!”

“Easy there, sugarcube. Don’t wanna get yerself worked up, now.” An orange hoof patted her shoulder. “Not in yer condition.”

The unicorn exhaled her fury and hung her head. “I know. It’s just so frustrating.”

“So, what was the problem?”

Twilight groaned. “Shining Armor is my brother.”

Applejack blinked. “Uh, yeah, I think we all got that. But what does that have to do with anythin’?”

“Everything!” the pregnant mare replied. “The spell is essentially a modified, highly-specialised version of an antibiotic. It’s meant to kill things. Sperm, to be precise.”

Most of Twilight’s audience looked away at that instant. Rainbow Dash was the lone pony who didn’t so much as blink, much less break eye contact. “So, why didn’t it work?”

“The spell was carefully crafted to avoid side-effects,” the unicorn expounded, “so it identifies its target according to very specific criteria. The material it operates on must contain equine genes and... Ughhh!... and the genes must be sufficiently different from the host’s own.” She breathed deeply. “The host, in this case, being me.” Her eyes lowered to her navel. Right on schedule, she felt a movement. “The primary matching algorithm is based on a Schultzpferd group-commonality matrix, which is–”

There was a noise of Rainbow Dash’s hoof connecting to her forehead.

“–complicated. I have books I can recommend to anypony interested in learning about it. The simple explanation is: Because we’re biologically related, Shining Armor and I share too many genetic markers. Fifty percent of our DNA is identical. This makes the spell less effective, to the point where it’s possible for it to not be triggered at all. And there isn’t even any feedback in that case to tell the caster that it isn’t working!”

Applejack scratched at her cheek as she pondered. “I think I get it. You’re sayin’ the magic didn’t work on yer brother’s spunk because... it thought it was a part of you.”

“Basically, yes.”

“Huh. Well, don’t that beat all.”

Twilight had a thought. “What method of birth control have you been using, Applejack? I assume you’ve been sexually active during your estrus cycle?”

Somewhere beside her, a refined mare harrumphed gently.

Now that she considered it, she was possibly being a smidge over-enthusiastic with her questioning, especially in present company. “Oh, if... that’s not too personal.” She twiddled her hooves, yet again fighting an incoming blush.

“Nah, I don’t mind,” Applejack answered, her tone back to her everyday normal – that is, casual and collected. “The method we’ve been usin’... well, it’s called ‘pullin’ out’. You mighta heard of it.” Her muzzle couldn’t hold back the tiniest of smirks and the corner of her eye wrinkled just a little bit.

Twilight was unimpressed. “Applejack, the withdrawal method is notoriously unreliable, with even perfect-use failure rates approaching four percent per year,” she cited.

Applejack looked to the pregnant mare’s belly, then to her own. The purple pony needed no special skill to decipher that particular message. Empirical evidence – the best kind – was stacked unanimously against her.

“A sample of two is not valid,” she denounced irately. “Under ordinary circumstances, the spell I’ve been using fails less than one in ten thousand times. It was the best one I could find!” Forelegs crossed, she stared from beneath bunched brows at a section of suddenly-fascinating wallpaper. “Of course, the book didn’t say that for first-degree blood relatives, the effectiveness drops to one in ten. Period.” No other voice surfaced to break the mute pause, and she mentally blocked her peripheral vision to avoid assessing how uncomfortable she had made the room. “I still beat the odds,” she concluded as her expression faded into resignation, and she found herself unconsciously caressing her stomach.

“Hey,” Applejack said with a comforting gaze. “You’ll be alright.”

“I know.” Twilight leaned back, finding the couch growing ever more comfortable as it cradled her weight with not-unpleasing squeaks. “It’s not like I never wanted to have a foal of my own. I just didn’t think it would happen like this. And now. I’m still so young...”

The earth pony chuckled. “Well, you always were...”

“...an overachiever,” Rainbow Dash finished.

When Twilight laughed, they all did; even the sober Rarity cracked a ladylike giggle.

“I’m going to have to read so many books,” the purple mare decreed halfway between apprehension and anticipation. “Taking care of a foal is so complicated.”

“Aww, don’t fret too much, sugarcube. Raisin’ lil’ ones is the most natural thing in the world a mare can do,” Applejack encouraged. “An’ you’re plenty smart. You’ll catch on pretty quick; I guarantee it. An’ if ya find yerself in a bind, ya can always drop by my farm. Call on me whenever ya need. An’ not just me, either. Ain’t an Apple alive that won’t help a pony in trouble – ’specially a mother with her foal.”

The words hit their mark, and Twilight relaxed further, her confidence in her abilities and her future rising up like a sturdy barn being built – with the help of her capable friends as her construction crew. In fact, the framing and siding was finished; all it really needed now was a good coat of paint. “That really is wonderful to hear, Applejack. With my closest friends, and Shining Armor and Cadance supporting me, I know I’ll be able to make this work!”

The earth pony raised her eyebrows inquisitively. “About that... I was thinkin’ I mighta bumped my head an’ started rememberin’ things that didn’t happen, but I could swear Rainbow Dash said that you told yer brother’s missus about all this.”

“I did,” Twilight confirmed. “I told them both everything.”

Applejack suddenly gave off the impression that her cushion had grown razor-sharp spines. “An’... how exactly did Cadance react when she found out her hubby was foolin’ ’round with his own sis? Hate to think that wonderful weddin’s gonna end in divorce... or a funeral.”

Twilight’s hoof shot up to suppress her amusement. “Cadance has known about me and Shining for a long time. She’s never minded us being together. In fact, the idea is a bit of a turn-on for her.”

The orange mare blinked away her surprise with a brief side-to-side of her head. Clearly she hadn’t been expecting to hear that. “Really, now?”

“Hah! Cadance is mare after my own heart!” Rainbow Dash interjected, tapping her chest. “It makes perfect sense if you ask me. Her special talent is love, right? Seeing ponies in love turns her on, plus she doesn’t seem much like the possessive type, either. I totally get why incest gets her juices flowing. I mean, you’ve got a brother and sister who love each other already, and then they go ahead and take that to the next level by getting physical. You’ve got so much emotion going on, and you know the other pony so well even the first time you do it, the sex must be absolutely mind-blowingly amazing! I’m surprised that it doesn’t happen all the time. It’s like an awesome erotic love overload! If that’s not super hot, I don’t know what is!” The exuberant pegasus beat her wings several times for emphasis.

Applejack stared at her blankly. “Yer an only child, aren’t ya?”

“Yeah. What about it?”

“...Never mind. So, the Princess gave her permission for you and yer brother to fool around. And the two of ya makin’ a baby didn’t rattle her none?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Twilight answered, trying to condense the hours she and Cadance had spent talking into a few words. “She was as surprised as anypony, but she understands that it was an accident and we all knew it was something that could happen, however unlikely. She doesn’t want it to break apart the relationship we all have – she was very insistent about that. And she thinks that the foal should be the most important thing for us right now. She’s really been so amazing and supportive through the whole ordeal that I’ve decided to name my daughter after her.” An image flashed beneath her eyelids, of a tiny newborn filly asleep and content in her forelegs. Inexplicably – or perhaps not – the child she imagined had a radiant pink coat.

Applejack whistled. “I’d’ve guessed that she’d be yer biggest hurdle if she ever found out, but seems ya’ll got yer ducks in a row. I gotta say, you’re one lucky mare, Twilight.”

The unicorn considered the statement. Her eyes closed and her cheeks bunched with a smile. “Yes. I am.”

“Seems ta me like you’ve been keepin’ one heckuva secret from us,” the earth pony noted with a wry grin. “Not that I blame ya. Now that the cat’s outta the bag, though, I wouldn’t mind havin’ a listen to yer story sometime – if ya ever feel like tellin’ it, that is.”

That was the opening Twilight had been waiting for. She hardly needed any prodding to spill her soul, at long last, to the only pony that she had ever known to share her extraordinary experience and could truly understand her predicament. She desperately wanted Applejack to hear this story.

Technically ‘now’ qualified as ‘sometime’, didn’t it?

“Well, it all started a long time ago,” she began, barely cognizant that she was opening the floodgates of a truly immense reservoir. As Applejack listened intently, Rarity carefully took up the remaining empty spot on the couch, while Rainbow Dash eagerly scooted closer to the others in a chair she had appropriated at some indeterminate point in time.

“I didn’t really know much about sex back then. I had plenty of books – our family owns a small private library – but I hadn’t really gotten to that section yet, and I didn’t even know to look there.” She laughed inwardly at her own long-forgotten innocence. “Anyway, one day while I was playing I discovered that if I... touched myself a certain way, I would become aroused. It was a new sensation, which I found very fascinating, and worthy of further study. It didn’t really feel ‘pleasant’, exactly, just really strange, but the feeling was accompanied by a strong urge to repeat my actions. I was masturbating, of course, but I didn’t understand that at the time – I didn’t even know the word.”

Rainbow Dash interrupted, “Let me guess: Shining Armor walked in on you while you were ‘doing field research’, right?”

This time, Twilight’s valiant effort in suppressing her blush proved to be for naught. Her face heated up, though not on account of the salacious nature of the topic at hoof – as her friends likely supposed – but because she was about to admit to one of her greatest failures in carrying out a practical experiment.

“Not quite,” she confessed after a few seconds of collecting her courage. “You see, no matter how hard I tried... and I tried a lot, devoting several hours each day for almost a week... I never figured out how to... I mean, I didn’t have the required information and I just couldn’t ever... um... finish.”

Rainbow shook lightly in her chair, briefly descending into muffled chortles and snorts. “Oh, that is so like you, Twilight. You’re the only pony I know who really would need an instruction manual to get herself off!”

Applejack looked quite amused as well, as her lips had scrunched into an unnatural zig-zag of a broad smile shattered by inadequately-enforced look of propriety. “I have a hunch where this is goin’...”

“So, anyway, I was embarrassed and frustrated,” Twilight pressed on, “you could even say I was angry. You might have noticed on a few occasions that I don’t take it very well when I don’t understand something. I didn’t want to go to my parents, and I didn’t know there was a whole shelf of books on equine sexual development in the house, so I did the rational thing and asked for help from the one pony whom I could always depend on.”

“Yer big brother,” Applejack inferred smartly.

Twilight nodded.

“So what happened?” Rainbow asked, leaning so far forward that she would’ve fallen flat on her face if not for the slow beating of her wings keeping her upper body aloft.

“He didn’t want to help me at first, telling me that I should go talk to our parents instead, but I could tell he knew exactly what was going on. I couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t just tell me. It was a mystery, and I needed to know the answer. I was... persistent. I guess he couldn’t stand it, because eventually he agreed to show me what I needed to do.”

“Hold on a sec.” The orange pony held up a hoof. “By ‘show ya’, do ya mean... ‘instruct’ ya, or...”

The unicorn bit her lip. “It was a very hooves-on demonstration,” she said, shutting her eyes once more as she pulled the happy reminiscence from the mists of time. “He and I don’t have the same anatomical equipment, so it would’ve been hard for him to show me anything without touching me. It was the logical thing to do under the circumstances.”

Rainbow’s teeth shone like a crescent moon beneath the stars shimmering in her eyes. “So, I’m guessing you finally got to finish?”

Without her even realising it, Twilight’s hoof had gone off to idly play with a lock of her mane, twirling it into a small loop as her face continued its extemporaneous task as small furnace. “Shining Armor was far from clueless. He knew what it took...” she explained, losing herself in the moment and the memory. “Yeah, I did. It was my very first orgasm, and it was all thanks to my big brother.” If she tried, she could still recall the sensation of that rapturous, magical first, held on the same lofty pedestal as her first successful spell, her first A+ graded project, her first lesson under Princess Celestia, and her first command of the Elements of Harmony.

“So, then what happened?”

“Shining told me that I could take care of myself from then on. He wasn’t really comfortable with what we’d done, and... I think he felt guilty,” the purple pony recounted, her face marred by a slight frown. “But after that first time, I wouldn’t accept a substitute. I wanted him to touch me again, and even if he had a hard time admitting it at first, he wanted it too.” She leaned back again, her story flowing easily now. “Soon after that, I found those books I’d missed earlier and learned all about male and female mating habits, and I decided that I should repay Shining for what he’d done for me. He’d made me feel so good, it was only fair that I do the same for him. He was still a little hesitant, but I got him to come around.

“Things escalated after that. Every time we engaged in mutual masturbation, it felt more and more natural; more normal. I understood that it wasn’t. He’d told me that brothers and sisters weren’t supposed to do that; that it was against the rules, but I honestly didn’t care.” Her hooves unconsciously pressed at the spot where her neck and chest met. “It felt wonderful, and as long as our parents didn’t find out I knew we’d be fine. Even Shining stopped being so reluctant after a while and a few times he was the one to initiate. We kept going farther and farther with each other, getting more comfortable, bolder... until one night, finally... we went all the way.”

Something dripped onto the floor; something which may have originated as a trickle of spit oozing from the corner of Rainbow Dash’s mouth.

“Full coitus,” Twilight clarified, as if worried that her stupefied audience hadn’t grasped the previous phrasing. The pony opposite her was beaming lecherously, her pale blue ears and wings standing at attention and her hoof wiping the edge of her muzzle. Applejack’s expression was more neutral, though it held a hint of vague amusement amid a more general air of consideration and sympathy as she regarded her friend. The final mare in the group had the appearance of being somewhere very far away, her vision focussed on an unknown object many miles distant and her eyebrows and ears held low yet loose and motionless. Her pristine white coat completed the image of an alabaster statue of a grand philosopher, inexplicably located on a homely couch in a simple farmpony’s house.

“So it became a regular thing fer you after that?” Applejack spoke up once the conversational void, inhabited only by the obnoxious ticking of a clock echoing off wood-paneled walls, had stretched too long for anypony’s comfort.

Twilight was forced to come down from her retrospective high. “Actually... we sort of backed off for a while,” she recalled, letting her tone speak of the disappointment she’d felt then. “That was Shining’s idea. He said he wanted our physical intimacy to be... memorable, and not just an everyday thing. I think he was worried that I might become too attached to him; that I might stop thinking of him as my brother and try to make him my special somepony, even though I told him that he would always be my B.B.B.F.F.”

“Don’t tell me you stopped altogether?” Rainbow Dash deplored, obviously let down by this turn of narrative.

“No, not completely. Every so often, we’d still masturbate each other and engage in other kinds of intimate play, but copulation was reserved for special occasions; a few times a year; birthdays or big events. Though... when my first estrus cycle hit, I knew exactly who to go to for relief.”

Twilight and Dash’s grins were perfect reflections of each other.

Applejack’s hoof laid itself tenderly on the unicorn’s shoulder. “Well now, it seems ta me ya really did work out a special kinda kinship between you. ’Specially since I’d imagine things like that could get pretty sour if one o’ ya found yerself a special somepony... or got hitched ta somepony else.”

Twilight was about to launch into a spirited proclamation that Shining Armor had always been free to marry anypony he chose, and that she had never seen herself as owning him romantically in any way, but the restless pegasus of the group once again butted in with an eager plea.

“Tell us how you ended up in bed with Cadance!”

A fresh burst of shock crossed Applejack’s face. “Waitaminnit. Ya mean ta tell me that not only did Princess Cadance give ya and yer brother permission ta rut each other silly, but she invited ya inta bed with her?”

Twilight moved her head a couple of millimetres in nervous affirmation, her gaze flying to the sides as she rubbed the back of her neck.

“Didn’t think I’d be sayin’ this, but I completely agree with Rainbow...”

“Hey!”

“...This story I gotta hear!”

Twilight fidgeted, playing the pretense that some loose spring in her seat had launched an attack on her hindquarters. In reality, she was simply stalling for time, and making do without a convenient teacup to aid her. “Well... this is where it gets kinda... complicated. See, when I saw Shining Armor a few weeks after the wedding, I was expecting that we wouldn’t be able to do... that anymore, since he was married and that usually implies monogamy.”

“Heh,” Applejack chuckled softly. “Now I finally unnerstand why ya got so goshdarn worked up when ya got that weddin’ invite.”

Twilight pouted. “It’s not that I wanted Shining Armor for myself forever... I just would’ve appreciated a little heads up! Maybe an opportunity for us to be intimate one last time, or at the very least a full conversation about what his decision would mean for our relationship before he committed himself. Is that really so much to ask?!” She huffed.

“But things worked out fer ya anyway, right? Yer brother agreed with Cadance before the weddin’ that he’d be bumpin’ rumps with you on occasion.”

An unnaturally cruel, bitter laugh escaped Twilight’s throat. “You give my brother too much credit, Applejack. That dork, that... blockhead thought it would be a good idea to bring up the subject after the wedding. As in: weeks after the wedding.” She loosed a small burst of steam from her nostrils. “Seriously, how stupid and thoughtless do you have to be to pull something like that?! He’s lucky Cadance was as open-minded as he hoped, or the whole thing could’ve turned into a complete disaster!” Her forelimbs gestured in ever wider and wilder arcs. “And that’s not even getting into the fact that he didn’t tell me that he’d be telling her! I only found out while we were having sex!”

“What.”

“What?”

“Whut?!”

It was an embarrassing and confusing story, but, like a magically-enlivened snowplow, Twilight’s account poured forth heedless of the mayhem that could result. “Cadance saw us together! And I panicked, because I didn’t know that she already knew because I didn’t expect Shining Armor would tell her our biggest secret because he didn’t tell me that he told her and the only thing he said was that it was okay for us to have sex and I didn’t really question it at the time and I know that was wrong because it was totally unethical of me to go along with it if I thought he was cheating on Cadance but I just couldn’t help it because I’d thought it was all over between us so when he took me to his bedroom I was just so happy and it was stupid and then Cadance came home early and saw us on the bed and I started freaking out–”

Having exhausted her current supply of air, Twilight desperately sucked in another breath. The snowplow rolled further along.

“And it turns out that Cadance had known about us even before the wedding and she never told either of us because she wanted to teach Shining Armor a lesson about honesty and trust and I kinda see why she did it that way and Shining did tell her the night before I arrived so he technically passed her test, but that doesn’t excuse her keeping us both in the dark for so long or her being a voyeur even though it wasn’t really planned on her part and she did apologise afterward and I apologised to her for almost being a homewrecker and Shining Armor apologised to us both for being such an idiot and–”

She inhaled again.

“–and we all made up and Cadance joked that to get even I could be the voyeur next time and... and the next day somehow that happened too and Cadance saw me watching and invited me so I could watch from up close and then... stuff... happened... and... and we had a threesome and it was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life!”

Twilight panted, her tunnel vision returning by degrees to a normal field.

Applejack stared wide-eyed, her jaw having all-but dislocated halfway through the verbal torrent.

Rarity appeared much the same, though she continued to gaze far-off with shrunken pupils.

Rainbow Dash slowly picked herself up off the floor. She used her wings to brush whatever detritus her coat had collected from the floorboards, and threw her forelegs over the chair, righting herself out of a wobbly daze. “Twilight... that... is... awesome! For crying out loud, why didn’t you ever tell me any of this?! That’s the best story I’ve ever heard! I bet you could make a fortune if you wrote a book about it!”

“No!”

“You wouldn’t have to use your real name...”

“No!”

Dash rolled her eyes. “Fine. I guess I could adapt it into the novel I’m writing...”

“NO!” This time, Applejack joined Twilight.

“Aww, come on! It could even be a series, like Daring Do. ‘The Erotic Adventures of Twibright Sparkle’. And you could double your money with a spinoff series about her friend Apple–zzzp–mmmffffph!”

The light of Twilight’s horn dissipated, and she glared at the pegasus who now had a closed zipper for a mouth. “No.”

Rainbow Dash sighed, and slumped indignantly in her seat.

“Terrible book ideas aside,” Applejack commented as the flush of her own face receded, “that is one heckuva bang-up tale ya got there, Twi. Hoo-whee, I never figured you’d be one fer that kinda horseplay, but I’d never be one to gainsay a mare havin’ whatever fun she fancies under the covers. Y’always have been an extraordinary pony... in a weird, crazy way, I’d say yer little romantic escapade downright suits ya. You’re alright in my book, Twilight.”

The unicorn smiled once again. The past few minutes had been the very definition of catharsis; a massive yoke that had been around her neck for years had finally been cast aside, and the feeling of heavy weightlessness – paradoxical though it was – enveloped her body. She sighed and pressed her shoulders into the seat back, unthinkingly exposing the curve of her midsection.

Applejack’s eyes found the swell, and she examined it wordlessly. For a second or two, her mouth opened as if to say something else, but she ultimately withdrew without any utterance.

“What about you, Applejack?” Twilight’s disposition swiftly returned to its familiar home ground: Curiosity. “How did you and Big MacIntosh get together?” She posed the question with a mien that she hoped would sound unreservedly friendly and accepting. This was a story she wanted to hear.

The earth pony mare looked to her brother, her face a silent question. Equally silently, the stallion considered the request, and gave her a silent, inscrutable look back.

Twilight threw her face to the side in a fleeting panic, suddenly wishing that she had Fluttershy’s bountiful mane to obscure her. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it had happened, but somewhere near the beginning of her impassioned tell-all, she had entirely let it slip her mind that she was in the presence of a male. The fact that the stallion had taken up a position some ways distant from the group, in a quiet corner where he had made full advantage of his naturally reticent and stoic character, probably had had something to do with it.

Not that Twilight was worried about Big MacIntosh being a tattletale – if there was one thing the workpony could be relied on to do, it was to keep a secret. She also counted him as a friend. Still, as she mentally reviewed every long-held privy detail that had come spewing unchecked from her muzzle, she found herself feeling more and more self-conscious.

Maybe – just maybe – it was within the realm of possibility that she had said too much.

As her mortified lapse abated, Twilight’s ears caught the tail end of Rainbow Dash’s passionate entreaty towards Applejack, the central thrust of which was capped with the words, “It’s only fair you tell us yours! Don’t be a chicken!” The orange mare, though visibly disinclined, ultimately relented in the face of this argument, extracting out of the deal a promise that Rainbow would at least stay quiet while she talked. A few moments later, after adjusting herself upon the seat, and attempting a largely futile delay by asking if anypony cared for any food or drink – they didn’t – she was ready.

Her words came unhurried, with the occasional pause or backtrack slowing the pace even more, and coloured with bittersweetness – yet there was strength to them that Twilight immediately identified as being rooted in Applejack’s pure, unvarnished honesty.

“It started a couple o’ years back. I guess you could say I always had a soft spot fer Big MacIntosh,” she said, directing a small nod toward the soundless brother in question, “an’ we were always close... Not like that, I mean. Not yet. Just... after ma and pa... we had ta rely on each other. All the way. No questions, no doubts. Couldn’t afford any o’ that. Not if we wanted ta keep the farm and bring Apple Bloom up right. We still had Granny Smith with us, bless her, but she was already gettin’ on in years an’ a mare like that can only do so much. It was tough... tougher’n anythin’, but, bit-by-bit, we managed.”

Here, Applejack stopped, and the wistful droop of her features gave way to a soft smile of gratitude as she found a purple hoof laid atop her own.

“I loved Big MacIntosh. I loved him not just ’cause he was my blood, but fer all the things he did, fer workin’ so hard every darn day no matter the weather, fer takin’ care o’ me and Apple Bloom, fer talkin’ sense when nopony else seemed ta have any, fer always bein’ there, strong an’ dependable. There were nights, early on, when he’d hold me on account o’... on...”

Applejack worked her throat, trying to dislodge some painful obstruction with an awkward cough.

“...on account I’d sometimes wake up cryin’ in the middle o’ the night. Didn’t even know why. Didn’t remember any dreams, any nightmares... I’d just cry an’... an’ he’d hold me till I stopped an’ went back ta sleep. Some nights... I caught him cryin’, too.” She straightened, brushing away the dampness beneath her eyes. “Didn’t matter none, though. I knew nothin’ could ever break him. I could always count on him. I loved him, I respected him an’... an’ I trusted him. Completely.

“I didn’t think o’ him as anythin’ but my brother, mind. Not that I never had... thoughts, y’know? I always knew he was good lookin’, handsome... an’ sometimes a filly’s imagination can get away from her... ’specially when she’s fertile and hasn’t had any attention from a real stallion.” Applejack’s cheeks shifted hue. “I always told myself it was just hormones messin’ with my head, an’ it always went away, eventually. Big MacIntosh was my brother, an’ that was that, and I couldn’t be happier fer it. Wasn’t a tougher, smarter, better stallion in all of Equestria a little sister could look up to. An’ I knew someday he’d find himself somepony an’ make her the luckiest mare alive. An’ nothin’ ever happened between us, till... well... like I said, it really started a couple years ago.”

There was another lengthy pause, but in spite of the golden opportunity it presented, Rainbow Dash remained true to her word, sitting as silent as the rest, awaiting the continuation with bated breath. Big MacIntosh, still in his corner, had flipped several times between gazing off at random walls and looking meaningfully into his sister’s eyes at the key points of her tale, his expression somehow never changing from its indomitable stolidity. Twilight had to tilt her head to gain a view of the other side of the couch, where Rarity still sat, looking more serious and pondering and seemingly farther away than ever.

With a drawn-out exhale through her nostrils, Applejack tread on. “Big Mac’d come home late one night. He’d gone on a date with some filly from town... can’t even rightly remember her name anymore.” Another silent question flew the stallion’s way.

“Peaches And Cream,” he replied.

Applejack snerked. “Ah, that’s right. Now I remember; messin’ with him, congratulatin’ him on gettin’ two mares at once. I said at that rate, he’d have his own herd in no time. P.C. was a mighty nice girl, though, wasn’t she?”

“Eeyup.”

Not held to the same vow of silence as Rainbow Dash, Twilight chose to gently nudge the tale forward when the next lull presented itself. “Well, things obviously didn’t work out. What happened?”

“We decided we’d be better as friends,” the stallion said, neither joy nor regret apparent in his voice.

“If I remember right,” Applejack expanded, “Peaches ’n’ Cream had plans to travel Equestria, someday settle down in some big city...”

“Applewood.”

“Right. She an’ Big Mac decided then and there it wouldn’t make a lick o’ sense fer them ta get together, on account o’ Big Mac needin’ ta stay at Sweet Apple Acres an’ run the place. They had a nice dinner, promised ta keep in touch, he walked her home like a proper gentlecolt... and then he came here. Past midnight, so I was the only one still up. He said he’d had a good time ’n’ all, but there was somethin’ about the way he said it... I dunno. He seemed sad, or just disappointed.”

“Wasn’t either,” the stallion countered placidly. “I was just thinkin’. Ain’t a crime to do that sometimes, A.J.”

“Heh. I didn’t buy that hooey back then, I sure as sugar don’t buy it now,” his sister taunted. “I tried ta cheer him up by sayin’ he’d find somepony, there were plenty of apples in the orchard an’ such. Then I said...” Applejack’s expression shifted into a forlorn sort of glare, which her wavering smile couldn’t hide. “I said anypony’d be darn lucky to have him, and I’d be the one in the family who’d probably end up an old spinster... Ugh! It was a darn right daft thing ta say then...”

Applejack’s hoof made a motion to pull her hat over her face in embarrassment, apparently not having gotten the message that her Stetson was still lying on the table some ways away. Twilight helpfully levitated it over to her, and rubbed Applejack’s shoulder.

The mare trifled with the headpiece in her forehooves. “So the whole thing got turned around an’ now he was the one tryin’ ta cheer me up. We got ta complimentin’ each other, crackin’ dirty jokes, talkin’ ’bout how neither of us had been havin’ any luck, romantically speaking. A bottle o’ hard cider helped. He told me I was smart, an’ attractive, an’... an’...”

“...Beautiful,” said a deep voice.

“Yeah... that.” The orange pony’s face was flushed, and Twilight was worried it was all becoming too much for her, but the brave mare forged ahead. “An’ I told him he only said that ’cause I was his sis, an’ he had to say that kinda flowery stuff ta me. An’ I said some things about him, too, but then I asked if he thought I was sexy.” She laughed curtly. “It was still a joke, y’see, we were just teasin’ with each other, drinkin’, laughin’, and he said that... that I was very sexy, and I said he was sexy, too, and I mighta said somethin’ about how big he was... in more ways’n one...”

It was a social faux pas to wear a hat indoors. Applejack put hers on anyway, forcing it as low on her forehead as she could.

“An’ I asked if he’d have me if we weren’t brother an’ sister, an’... he said he’d go all night with a mare like me; treat me right.”

Rainbow Dash couldn’t see underneath the light brown brim, but looking from the side, Twilight could:

Applejack was crying.

And smiling.

“An’ then he asked if I’d do him if we weren’t related an’ I said... I... I asked why that should even stop us.” She sniffled. “An’ he laughed and said he couldn’t rightly see any reason, and we should just head to the barn right then, an’... an’ we kept sayin’ these things an’ it all just kept gettin’ more... filthy... like some kinda perverted contest neither one of us could stand ta lose... an’ we talked ’bout what we’d do to each other an’ how we’d do all that stuff nopony else could do fer us and describin’... acts... an’ we kept shootin’ off our muzzles fer so long... until we both realised neither one of us was jokin’ ’round anymore.”

She pushed her hat back and wiped away her tears.

“An’ now that I think about it... maybe we never were ta begin with.”

She used the other hoof to wipe the perspiration on her forehead as a tattered breath escaped her lips. “An’ I looked him in the eye an’ said I loved him an’ wanted him, and he said the same thing ta me... and I asked whether he wanted to try... just one time... an’ nopony would need ta know... just us...”

A breeze flowed over the couch as Rainbow Dash stabilised herself with a flutter, her chair’s legs squeaking as their weight shifted out of a dangerous forward lean. The pegasus crossed her forelimbs and played the incident coolly, in a way that was convincing to absolutely nopony.

Applejack chuckled, genuinely amused. “I bet you’re dyin’ to know what happened next, right, Rainbow?”

Dash nodded cautiously.

The earth pony presented a sideways smirk, rolling her eyes puckishly. “Well, now, I dunno. Ya might not wanna hear this next part,” she said with false concern. “I guarantee it’s gonna give ya quite a start. I wouldn’t wanna say anythin’ to upset you. Ya sure ya can handle it, R.D.? Ya really wanna know what we did next?”

Dash nodded vigorously.

“Well, alright, then. Big Mac, ya care ta do the honours? Tell her what happened between us that night.”

“Eeyup.” The stallion moved toward the group ominously, stopping at Rainbow Dash’s side. He fixed her with his intense green eyes. Even sitting straight up in a chair, the pegasus was shorter than the red workpony, and his stony stance made him look all the more colossal in relation to her comparatively inconsequential frame. The sheer presence of his being seemed enough to crush the smaller pony into a ball. She held her breath – a state Twilight noticed she herself was in, and quickly corrected with a measured exhale. The charge of the room built up as Big MacIntosh opened his mouth...

“Nothin’ happened.”

Rainbow Dash blinked. “Wh– what?”

“We didn’t have sex,” the red earth pony said, dropping his eyelids back into tranquility.

Incomprehension painted the pegasus’ face. “But... why?”

“We both had half a bottle o’ cider in us!” Applejack explained with a dose of irritation mixed with prankish victory. “We knew we weren’t thinkin’ straight. We’d both just confessed ta feelin’s we didn’t know we had an’ didn’t unnerstand. We weren’t just gonna jump each other’s bones right there! Land sakes! We ain’t harebrained teenagers no more, Rainbow Dash! Incest ain’t somethin’ ta be taken lightly. Apple Bloom an’ Granny Smith were sleepin’ right upstairs. D’ya even know how bad it coulda been if either one o’ them found us doin’ the deed?”

Applejack tensed briefly, as though informed that a large spider was crawling along her back. She smoothed her Stetson downward and shook the feeling off. “The only thing we did... we made a promise. That we’d sleep on it, wait a few days, and if in a week’s time we still felt the same way... then we’d talk about it an’ see if we couldn’t figure somethin’ out. Then we went ta bed. Our own beds.”

Rainbow could do nothing but stare dumbly with her ears cupped downward, having had the story’s predicted salacious end so mercilessly swiped away.

Twilight found herself equally surprised, but in a much more positive direction. She had always known Applejack to be a mare who valued practicality and sound decision making, even under stress. Her brother possessed those qualities in even greater abundance. The Apple siblings’ greatest character flaw – stubbornness – often translated into an unwillingness to engage in risky ventures or indulge in frivolity until all serious matters had been resolved, often to their advantage.

The unicorn’s heart swelled with admiration for Applejack and Big MacIntosh’s display of reason and self-control. She also had to admit the flustered, betrayed look on Rainbow Dash’s face was proving to be a most entertaining counterpoint to the emotional load of Applejack’s story, and she screwed up her muzzle holding in a giggle. If there was any shade at all in the situation, it was a small sting of jealousy at how well Applejack had handled temptation in contrast to Twilight and her brother’s own unplanned, pushy, and bumbling first incestuous experience.

“So, what did you do after waiting a week?” she asked at length.

“We talked,” Applejack answered, back to being serious. “An’ it turned out, even with clear heads, we still felt that way. We wanted ta be more than just brother an’ sister. An’ we decided, long as nopony was gettin’ hurt, long as nopony else knew an’ the farmwork got done like normal... we could give it a shot. It could be a thing just between us; our secret. We wouldn’t force anythin’, we’d just meet up alone an’... see what happened.”

Twilight nodded in approval.

“What happened was... well, it was great. An’ since we both liked it, we made it a regular thing from then on.” With a drawn-out huff and slackening muscles, Applejack removed her hat and laid it carefully aside. “An’ as good as it felt ta get this yarn off my chest, those times... well, they’re private fer a reason, an’ I hope y’all understand I won’t be goin’ inta any details.”

Twilight swallowed her disappointment. It tasted bitter, like mouldy hay. “We understand, Applejack. Everypony has a right to privacy.”

“You cheated!” Rainbow Dash declared bitterly. “You promised to tell us about your first time with Big MacIntosh.”

“I did not,” Applejack hit back. “I promised to answer Twilight’s question, which was ’bout how Mac an’ I got ta be together. I never promised to tell what happened after.”

The cyan mare made a noise that wasn’t quite a word, but sounded like a scurrility regardless.

Twilight had to concede the earth pony’s words to be true. “I thought it was a fascinating story, and I’m glad you trusted us enough to tell it, Applejack.” She offered the mare beside her a simple hug, and received a heartfelt smile and small nuzzle in exchange. “What about you, Rarity?” she asked, leaning over to assess the unicorn that, to her growing bewilderment, seemed determined to claim victory over Big MacIntosh himself for that evening’s Quietest Pony Award.

“Hmm?” The white mare snapped to attention from whatever concentrated depths she’d mired herself in. “Oh, yes. Yes! I’m... I’m glad you and Big MacIntosh were able to make an informed choice about your relationship, and I do sincerely hope you both fare well. I... simply couldn’t help thinking about something Twilight said earlier...” Her muzzle scrunched as if presented with some unpleasant odour, then relaxed as a hooficured digit joined it with a gentle, refined tap. “There is a... detail I’d like to confirm. My dear, may I pose a question concerning you and Shining Armor, and your relationship?”

“Uh... sure.”

“M-hmm. You said when this sexual... rapport of yours first began, you were just discovering the joy of self-pleasuring, correct?”

“Yeah...” Twilight didn’t know why, but she was beginning to tense up.

“And you had never been in heat, nor experienced an orgasm, yes?”

“That’s right...”

“You didn’t even know what masturbation was, am I correct?”

The purple pony bobbed her head.

“Twilight...” Rarity asked with overpowering gravitas. “How old were you?”

Silence reigned.

Twilight felt an all-too-familiar surge of panic swelling. There were four pairs of eyes in the room with her, and at that moment they were all piercing through her, impaling her insides. More sharp things hung above her, waiting in judgement for her answer, ready to skewer her completely as she sat helpless, caged.

“D– do you mean, the first time we copulated, or... the first time he touched me?” It was an idiotic question, considering the two events were separated by only weeks.

“Either,” Rarity replied without mercy.

“I was...” Twilight’s limbs fidgeted, weight shifting every which way, her brain running circles around itself trying to come up with something clever-sounding. “...young.” She already knew where her friend was going with this line of questioning, and she desperately did not want to join her there.

The other unicorn nodded slowly. “All right. Answer me one question, then: Twilight, did you have your cutie mark?”

Twilight looked to the others, but they were of no help. There was no escape. Refusal to answer would be taken as a sign of guilt in front of her friends, the Equestrian Charter Of Rights be damned. A daring exit via teleportation even moreso. Twilight steeled. Her friends had been accepting so far, she told herself; she just had to trust them a little farther. “N– no. It happened before that. Before I met Princess Celestia.”

Applejack and Big MacIntosh exchanged looks, the meaning of which was unclear, but definitely not positive. Rainbow Dash tilted her head. Rarity sighed, her brows bunching up. “Then you were a pre-pubescent filly who was molested by her older brother.”

Something within Twilight surged. She had been preparing her defenses, all of which now went into overdrive. “I was not molested, Rarity!” That came out louder than she had intended. She didn’t want to sound defensive. “You heard my story. I was the one who initiated the whole thing. I wanted it.”

“I heard your story, darling,” the other mare answered, her tone infuriatingly calm and controlled. “You told us you didn’t even comprehend what sex was. Instead of taking the correct, ethical course of action and directing you to a proper source of information, your brother took advantage of you.”

“Only because I asked him to!” That was too loud, again. “And he didn’t take advantage of me; he helped me. It was a wonderful experience.”

Rarity’s head shook sadly. “I understand why you may think that. I’ve heard that it can happen in children who have been in your situation. They make excuses, to protect the ones they love, but that does not make it right. Even if one looks past the obvious problem of incest, you were too young – far too young and naive to consent to any sort of sexual activity.”

Twilight wanted to shout, but the wise, experienced, reasoned part of her was strong and fortunately just fast enough to grip the reins and shut her mouth before she said something regrettably stupid and self-incriminating. She wanted to argue with Rarity, throw every bit of psychology and ethical theory she knew right into the white mare’s face – but Rarity did not want to fight. The expression in her firm yet compassionate eyes made that clear. The unicorn wasn’t attacking; merely standing her ground.

Her words still sounded insulting, though.

Twilight sought assistance. “Applejack, you understand what I’m saying, right? It was consensual.”

The earth pony ran a hoof over her mane, a guilty glimmer in her eyes. “Well, now, I... I didn’t wanna say anythin’. I guess I was hopin’ this all happened when ya were a teen, but I hafta agree with Rarity on this one. It ain’t right fer a filly that young ta be foolin’ ’round, ’specially if she don’t even know what she’s gettin’ herself into.”

“I knew!” Twilight responded. Still too loud. And whiny. “I read all the introductory sexual guides, the mating chapter of the Unabridged Equine Biology Reference Manual, I even looked at a couple of cheap romance novels before Shining and I had intercourse! I knew precisely what was involved!”

This argument, thoroughly convincing to the pregnant mare, appeared not nearly so to the other ponies gathered around her.

Applejack sighed. “But ya said when yer brother first touched you, ya didn’t know anythin’.”

“Well, I... it... it was just touching! He used his hoof and explained what he was doing. It’s not like he mounted me right there!” Only when these words were spoken aloud did the defensive mare realise how absurd they sounded. She met with more unconvinced stares.

“Twilight, darling, I know this may be difficult to accept, but Shining Armor’s actions toward you were abusive.”

“No... no... no!” Twilight seethed through clenched teeth. “You weren’t there, Rarity. Neither were you, Applejack. None of you were. You didn’t see it happen. I know it sounds bad and... and I wish I could explain it better, but you have to believe me that Shining never did anything to hurt me. He could never hurt me!”

“I’m not saying that he intended to hurt you, Twilight,” Rarity offered. “It’s entirely possible that he rationalised the incident in his own mind, as you have, but the fact remains: you were simply too young. What happened to you was wrong; it was...” Here, the white pony stopped and tightened her lips, focussing her gaze at the floor.

The other unicorn filled in the blank. Her voice trembled with suppressed rage. “I. Wasn’t. Raped.”

Rarity turned to face her, moderately surprised. Twilight ascribed this to her not expecting her supposed “victim” to be willing to name the issue so forthrightly instead of avoiding it, like an emotionally-damaged survivor might. And Twilight was not damaged. If Rarity was expecting her to hide or disregard any facts or truths, she would be sorely disappointed.

“Geez, I think you’re both overreacting!”

At first, the purple unicorn thought Rainbow’s words were directed at her and Rarity. Then, she noticed that the pegasus had her glare set firmly on Applejack and Rarity.

A fresh light ignited inside her, and she dared to hope. Could Rainbow actually be on her side?

“Ya don’t see the problem with a filly – a foal – who ain’t even old enough fer a cutie mark ta be havin’ sex?!” Applejack asked incredulously.

The cyan pony crossed her forelimbs. “Not really,” she stated coolly. “Kids get up to all kinds of freaky stuff when grown-ups aren’t watching. It’s part of being a kid, pushing the limits and figuring yourself out. As long as nopony ends up seriously hurt, it’s just games. Hay, you can’t even get pregnant, so there’s less to worry about.”

Rarity was stunned beyond speech.

Applejack still had hers. “Now wait just one gosh-darn apple-pickin’ minute! Are ya bein’ serious right now?!”

Rainbow’s eyes grew, meeting the earth pony’s surprise measure for measure. “Oh, come on! I’d expect Rarity here to be all prim and prissy and scandalised, but you? I’ve seen how Apple family reunions work; you let the kids go and play wherever they want. And some of them are at the age where they start getting horny. You’re telling me you never messed around with one of your cousins?”

“I most certainly did not!” shouted Applejack, her features telegraphing her ire with no subtlety to be seen. Her hindhooves pulled neatly under her rump, as if ready to propel her into a leaping attack.

“You didn’t?!” Twilight covered her muzzle too late, and immediately blushed hard at her own outburst, retreating into her sofa corner as far as she could. She still technically shared the couch with Applejack and Rarity, but a conceptual frontline had formed among the group, with Rainbow Dash and Twilight allied together in opposition to the remaining mares.

The studious unicorn called upon her inner diplomat, attempting to douse the flames with water instead of further sparks. “I– I’m sorry, Applejack. I really did think that families like yours–” The stare she was hit with turned her blood to ice. In her mind, she smacked herself repeatedly. “I mean, it often happens, in all sorts of families, actually,” she covered, badly. “Children do explore their bodies with each other. It’s a common and natural component of childhood development. Even Cadance thinks so.” She rubbed her hooves together awkwardly and scanned the floorboards. “Not... not that it’s unnatural to not do that, either, I suppose...” Her body worked to make itself as compact and Fluttershy-like as possible.

“Haven’t you ever heard of kids ‘playing doctor’?” Rainbow pressed, diplomacy clearly nowhere on her list of priorities. “You really never did anything like that?” She hovered above her chair, forelegs still wrapped together.

The earth pony was glowering. “It’s natural fer young’uns to go as far as comparin’ their private bits,” she addressed Twilight and Rainbow Dash in equal parts. Her voice bordered on a hiss. “I did that. I got curious ’bout a couple o’ my cousins. They showed me theirs, I showed ’em mine. An’ that was it. There was no touchin’! I’d’ve broken their hooves and bucked ’em inta the next reunion if any of ’em tried! Nopony should be touchin’ a filly’s marehood ’cept her own self; an’ that’s somethin’ every little colt an’ filly gets taught right an’ early in the Apple clan – or any decent family.”

“I completely agree with Applejack,” Rarity said, her voice back and stronger than ever, as she placed a confederate hoof on the earth pony’s withers. “Curiosity is to be expected among children; sexual congress is most definitely not.”

The orange mare, bolstered, saw fit to close her eyes and lower her voice, though it still flowed viscous with disapproval. “If somepony’d rut me at that age, I reckon’ it woulda messed me up somethin’ bad.”

Twilight uncoiled. Her diplomat was fired. The battlefront sparked with a new volley. “Is that what you think of me, Applejack?” she asked, fixing the earth pony with a betrayed, accusatory stare. “You think I’m ‘messed up’?”

Applejack flinched. “I didn’t say that!” She was on the defensive now, to Twilight’s perverse delight. “Everypony’s different, an’ if ya say ya don’t mind what yer brother did, then I’m willin’ ta take yer word fer it. All I’m sayin’ is: It coulda been a lot worse, and he shouldn’t’a done that.”

“Precisely,” Rarity added. “We’re not saying that you are damaged, Twilight. We’re simply pointing out that sexual activity at a young age is not healthy, and what Shining Armor did to you was frightfully irresponsible and dangerous.”

Rainbow Dash scoffed. “Oh please, would you two give it a rest already? You keep yammering on about how it’s ‘dangerous’ or ‘ain’t natural’,” she groused as her cyan limb wrapped over Twilight’s neck, “but maybe you should take some advice from the two ponies here who actually had these experiences first-hoof and know what they’re talking about?”

Startled looks were exchanged. Even Twilight was momentarily baffled.

“...Uh, Rainbow Dash? Is there somethin’ ya wanna tell us?”

The pegasus assumed a mysterious smile, and casually took a seat on the couch. The lack of space forced her onto the armrest instead of a cushion, though she didn’t seem to mind, and Twilight appreciated the proximity the arrangement allowed, not least because it meant that when she now faced Rarity and Applejack, Dash quite literally had her back.

“I really don’t like telling this story ’cause the ending’s pretty lame,” she began, leaning back with a feckless gesture of her hoof, “but since Applejack and Twilight told theirs, I guess you should hear mine, too.” She cleared her throat theatrically. “This one time, at flight camp – Ha! I always wanted to say that! – anyway, it was first year. I didn’t have my cutie mark, and the sonic rainboom was still just a legend ponies told their colts and fillies at bedtime.” Her foreleg drew a wide arc, painting a rainbow vista that only she could see. “I was already awesome, but it’d still be a while before I had this beauty on me to prove it.” She tapped her flank proudly.

“So, there was this colt in my class. I think his real name was Dew Point, but we all called him Dewey. Pretty cute, a little on the skinny side, average flier, and a bit of a geek. Nowhere near Twilight’s super-egghead level, but he liked books and magazines more than racing. One day, he came to me asking if I wanted to try ‘lovemaking’ – yeah, that was my reaction exactly. Going by what my old folks told me, I thought ‘lovemaking’ was something only married ponies did when they wanted to make a foal. But he had this magazine with him that he’d swiped from his grandparents’ house. Pretty good one, too. I think it was a Playhoof Anniversary Edition or something. He’d read all the articles – I told you he was a geek – and wanted to try some of the heavier stuff out.”

Twilight couldn’t resist a question. “I don’t understand – why did he ask you? It doesn’t sound like you two were friends.”

The pegasus flicked her shoulders. “Not really. Ponies just knew I was always willing to try new stuff. Also, there was a rumour going around that I was ‘easy’.” She loosed a warm chuckle upon seeing the others’ reactions. “Don’t give me that look. They were kids; most of them didn’t even know what that meant. Not that being called ‘easy’ is much of an insult anyway. If you ask me, the only ponies who think having lots of sex is bad are those who aren’t getting any.”

Twilight bit her tongue. Though she disagreed, starting an argument with her only ally now would be an extremely poor tactical move.

“So anyway, I looked through the mag, thought the pictures were cool... in a gross kinda way. But if a kid like Dewey was up for it, I wasn’t about to chicken out. We moved through the basics: hoofjobs, oral... I guess reading those articles really did pay off ’cause he made me cum pretty quickly. Then he did it again before I repaid the favour.” An indecent grin spread over Dash’s lips and she laughed. “Gotta give it to the kid, he had talent. It was fun.”

“Now, just one moment, Rainbow Dash,” Rarity objected with an accusatory hoof-point. “I distinctly remember you informing us – rather loudly and drunkenly, I might add – that your virginity was forfeit during your adolescent years.”

Rainbow scowled. “I was just getting to that part.” A long, loud breath escaped her lips as her features slumped. “We were just getting to the main event when we ran into... trouble. See, I’d just finished getting him off, so he was still a little... floppy. That, and he was going for the classic mount, so he couldn’t really see what he was doing back there, and his aim was a little off.”

Mixed looks of horror flitted over the others.

Dash could only laugh again as understanding came over her. “Hahah! That’s not what I meant! He was aiming too low, sorta between my legs and just hitting air... anyway, we almost had it figured out when one of the counsellors barged in and caught us.”

The pegasus’ face twisted up in resentment. “We got taken to the office and I got this stupid lecture about how private parts are private and what we’d been doing was wrong and where did I learn that and we were too young for that... Honestly it was like being lectured by Miss Manners and Miss Country Manners over here.” She gestured at the white- and orange-coated ponies. “They took the mag, told us they’d let it go this one time... I think they were just too shocked to know what to do... just like Rarity and Applejack!”

The two named ponies glared. Rainbow Dash chuckled. Twilight chuckled – though quietly.

“They told us to stay away from each other and if anything like that happened again, they’d have to tell our parents... like that was supposed to make me scared or something...” Here, Rainbow Dash sighed and relaxed into her precarious seat, one foreleg behind her head, one on her chest, and one hindleg crossed over the other.

Twilight processed the information so far. The obvious question popped into her head, but proved unnecessary to ask, as, after a short pause, Rainbow continued the story without urging.

“Obviously, I wanted to finish the job. After all, ‘determination’ is my middle name: Rainbow Determination Dash! So, a couple nights later, I snuck over to the boys’ dorm room, but... ahh, I don’t know what they did to the poor guy, but Dewey didn’t even want to see me. Said he didn’t want to get in trouble again.” Dash blew a soft raspberry. “I called him a scaredy bat, told him nopony would catch us, but he wouldn’t budge. I guess his folks were really strict, but he really didn’t want to risk anything, so I had to leave. It was years after that before I finally lost my cherry.” Her head shook in a gesture of dole touched by petulance; the unmistakable expression of well-aged regret. “Sad. I bet he would’ve been hooves-down better than that selfish dweeb I gave it to in the end.

“Anyway, that’s my story. And the point is: There’s nothing wrong with kids experimenting. I didn’t get to fourth base with Dewey, but if I had, it wouldn’t’ve screwed me up. Nopony was getting abused, I’m not some traumatised victim and he isn’t some predator... or the other way around.” The mare fired off a lopsided grin to her audience.

Twilight Sparkle couldn’t help but share the sentiment. “See?” She beamed in triumph. “That’s both Rainbow and I who have had positive experiences with sex at a young age.”

Rarity regarded her through half-open eyes. “A sample of two is not valid, dear.”

The flagpole of victory came crashing down on Twilight’s skull, leaving her seeing starbursts. Rainbow Dash had to shake her out of the resulting stupor. “Well... it...” She forced her mind back into gear with a sickening screech. “It at least proves that not all sexual activity at a young age is harmful. There haven’t been many studies about it, I admit, since it is a touchy subject for most ponies, but there is widespread anecdotal evidence that as long as there is no coercion, it’s generally harmless.”

Applejack was next to speak, lobbing her question over Twilight’s horn at Rainbow Dash. “This kid ya talked ’bout. Dewey. Was he old enough to have his cutie mark?”

The winged pony swivelled her head in a negative. “No. He was in first year just like me, so he had to be about my age.”

The earth pony lowered her sight. “An’ how old was Shining Armor when you two started?”

Twilight was back on the defensive. She decided to tread carefully. She would not hide from the truth, however. “He... was a teenager.”

Applejack said no more.

The unicorn rolled her eyes and frowned. “Okay, I get: There’s an age difference of... of a few years. And Shining knew a lot more about sex than I did; he was more mature. But we were both minors, so it’s not that bad.”

“I’m quite certain that it is illegal, though,” Rarity noted.

“Kind of...” Twilight mentally pulled the relevant bit of legal trivia. “Having sex with a minor is normally sufficient evidence for a charge of sexual abuse, but there is a close-in-age exemption in the statute that can be used as a defense.”

‘A close-in-age exemption that Shining Armor didn’t qualify for; our ages were too far apart.’ The thought sent a pang through her stomach. She appreciated that rules sometimes demanded exceptions, but it still left her feeling uneasy, even after all these years, to know that she had goaded her brother into committing a criminal offense. And now she was being openly called on it. ‘No hiding from the truth!’ something within hissed.

“Yes, it was technically illegal.” Her expression hardened to stone. “Are you planning to report it to the authorities? You’ll find that without any physical evidence or a cooperating witness, the crown prosecutor won’t even touch the case.” Mention of the ultimate authority, in the form of a regal white alicorn, was consciously avoided.

The other mare lifted her eyebrows. “I wasn’t suggesting anything of the kind, my dear. I was merely making the point that the Captain of the Royal Guard, Prince of Equestria, and Governor of the Crystal Empire seems to have a rather more sullied past than is generally known.”

‘Sullied.’ The word felt icky and odious to Twilight’s ears. “Shining Armor is a wonderful pony,” she declared forcefully. “He is and always was the best brother I could ever want. He’s the bravest, most honourable stallion I know, and I don’t really care what anypony else thinks; he’s earned every one of those titles you just mentioned!” She thrust her chin forward and stiffened her lips.

“I suppose that is a matter of opinion,” Rarity answered haughtily, throwing her obdurate gaze away. “I simply cannot abide the fact that you just told us that Shining Armor is a pedophile.”

“Whoa, now...” Applejack murmured with shrunken pupils.

Twilight felt her blood come to a boil. “My brother is not a pedophile! Have you ever seen the clinical definition of pedophilia? Because I have and Shining Armor does. Not. Qualify.”

The white mare wavered, but only for a fleeting instant, then dug her hooves in for the fight. “Then I suppose you will have no reservations about leaving your daughter alone with him?”

Twilight struck her front leg down, but the padding beneath her absorbed the impact without much protest. “What kind of a question is that? I trust Shining Armor completely. He is my B.B.B.F.F., he’s the father of my child, he will be a part of her life, and no, I will have no qualms whatsoever leaving her alone with him!”

“I’m not convinced that’s very wise... unless of course you approve of him providing ‘hooves-on’ sexual education to her as he did to you...”

Twilight opened her mouth. She was going to say – or rather scream – something at Rarity, though the exact phrasing hadn’t been vetted by her higher reasoning functions, and would have likely been very regrettable. It was a good thing, then, that somepony else intervened.

The deep sound of a large stallion’s vocal cords vibrating didn’t form a word, exactly, but its nature called attention to itself better than any word could.

Twilight had forgotten about Big MacIntosh again. It was a talent, almost Pinkie-like in its uncanniness, that allowed the bulky pony to remain in the room yet utterly vanish from everypony’s perceptions. The incensed mare pulled away from the pressure of an orange hoof on her chest which – she only now realised – had been keeping her from advancing on Rarity.

With all eyes on him, Big MacIntosh spoke. “Supper’ll be ready in a half-hour. We’re still waitin’ on Granny an’ Bloom, but they should be here. Hope y’all like oat an’ sweet carrot casserole, an’ apple dumplings fer dessert. I’ll go an’ set the table.” With that, he left the room, his hoofbeat in rhythm with the ticking clock.

An empty minute passed.

The frown dropped off Rarity’s face, replaced by pained eyes and a nervous lip bite as she pushed a deep purple lock back into place behind her horn. “Oh, Big MacIntosh...?” she called out, trying to sound cordially cheerful and ladylike.

The stallion’s head popped back in.

“While I’m most grateful for the invitation, I’m afraid I shan’t be staying. I have several projects I really need to get back to at the Boutique, and I must see to it that Opal is fed; it’s past her usual dinnertime as it is. I was counting on our presence here being a short, friendly visit.” Her voice turned quiet and distant. “Though in the end it proved to be neither...” There was no more fight in her words; just melancholy.

“I should be getting back to the library,” Twilight announced, letting her own anger deflate, “I really want to finish reading ‘Exotic Examples of Elemental Enchantments’ tonight. Spike’s probably wondering where I am, too. But thank you for the offer, Big MacIntosh.” Warring with one of her friends was both spirit-crushing and exhausting. Right now, she truly wanted nothing more than to go home, lock the doors, and lose herself in a book that had absolutely nothing to do with morality or sex.

Her farewell to the other Apple sibling derailed at the back of her throat.

Her acrimony may have been on the fade, but the feeling of betrayal was still there, settling in like snow for a long, cold winter’s stay. Applejack, the one mare that less than an hour ago Twilight had been counting on to fully understand her exceptional relationship, had instead joined forces with the enemy and denounced it; denounced Twilight’s brother as being wrong and irresponsible for loving her in the way that he did. She felt a pair of stony, aching lumps: one in her chest, and one behind her eyes. Heart and mind, both bruised.

Yet she refused to abandon hope. If there was any way to salvage her camaraderie, she would take it. “Applejack, I’m...”

“It’s alright, sugarcube. Ya don’t need ta say anythin’. Listen, I didn’t mean ta come at you all judgemental-like, it’s just this whole evenin’... with all that’s happened an’ come out... well, it’s been a lot...”

“Yeah...” Twilight said softly, not looking at Applejack any more than she was at her.

“I meant everythin’ I said... y’know, before. If ya ever need help, you’re always welcome here. An’ if ya just wanna talk... ’bout anythin’...” the earth pony looked into her eyes with a diminutive, hopeful smile. “Well, I’d like that a whole heap...”

Rarity paused on her way out, turned, and regarded the pair, her posture growing more uncomfortable in the manner of a pony whose neck is itchy but unable to be scratched. At length, she spoke, “Twilight, I... for all our disagreement, I may have allowed my own standard of courtesy to lapse somewhat. My apologies to you. And to everypony. This evening... could have gone better.”

“I was really hoping it would,” Twilight said with a drawn-out sigh. She was still upset with Rarity, and far from balmed by a few hasty words of apology. She tried not to think too much about what had been said, lest rage make a comeback.

“Hey, friends have arguments sometimes,” Rainbow Dash opined. “We all say stupid things. It doesn’t have to be a biggie. We’re all still friends, right?”

“Absolutely,” Rarity stated quickly.

“Sure,” Applejack added.

“...Yeah,” Twilight finished.

Her own word convinced her. Friendship wasn’t always easy, but it was worth fighting for. This group of friends had been through worse. There were cracks, but they’d recover, work out their differences, and come away with stronger bonds than ever. And the evening hadn’t been a complete loss; Twilight had managed to reveal a truly damning aspect of her secret to four ponies, with the end result being... non-catastrophic.

‘At least no big disasters happened,’ she comforted herself.

Rarity offered her goodbyes, and retrieved the fuzzy boots and scarf she had arrived with. Twilight held back only because leaving with Rarity would mean either an awkward conversation or an awkward silence as they walked together. She resolved to wait out another five minutes before heading home herself, though she jumped off the couch to stretch her legs.

“Uh, Twi...” Applejack said with an air of concern. “Were ya plannin’ on tellin’ Pinkie an’ Fluttershy about you and Shining?”

Twilight looked down at her belly. “I’m pretty sure they’re asking questions already, along with everypony in town.” The bulging of her flanks seemed larger, but brought forth less trepidation than ever. She felt the earth pony’s eyes scan her from hooves to head.

“Bein’ completely honest now – Apple family word of honour, Pinkie Promise an’ all that –” Applejack said, making the requisite motions, “I really didn’t think ya were carryin’. Ya look... good.” She smiled, tilting her head.

Twilight laughed. It was a small laugh, but held as much value as a life-saving oasis in the midst of a desert. “Thanks. Opinions are still a little mixed.” Celestia and Rarity had thought her condition obvious; Spike, Applejack, and Big MacIntosh had not. She hadn’t asked Rainbow’s thoughts yet. “But any doubts ponies may have will be gone soon. And I don’t want to hide the truth from my closest friends. Though I think I’ll try to avoid going into quite as much detail with those two...”

Applejack nodded. “I can respect that. But... uh... if ya don’t mind, could you... not tell ’em ’bout me an’ Big Mac?”

“Of course! I completely understand your desire for privacy. If I hadn’t gotten pregnant, I probably would’ve kept my secret, too. It’s entirely up to you and your brother to decide when and if you want to tell somepony else. Is there anypony else who knows already?”

The mare’s green eyes turned to saucers. “Uh, no, nopony else knows, y’all are the only ones I’ve told, it’s a secret, eeyup, and I’d appreciate if it stayed that way, heheh!” she rapid-fired, scrunching her lips and looking off up and to her left.

One didn’t need to be an expert in reading vocal or facial cues to understand: Applejack was lying.

This confused Twilight. Her question had been so innocent; born of straightforward curiosity, yet it had turned Applejack’s demeanor on a dime. Why would Applejack want to keep secret the fact that somepony knew her secret from other ponies who already knew that secret?

Something in the back of the unicorn’s brain told her that she should drop the matter, at least for the present night – but that wise voice was drowned, utterly, but the part of her that needed to know; the inner detective that lusted after the solution to any tempting mystery.

“Nopony else knows?” she repeated, watching the earth pony for every telltale sign of deception.

“Nope, nopony else,” Applejack lied again. “I should probably go help Big MacIntosh get supper on the table. Granny Smith will be here any minute.”

“And Apple Bloom?”

“Where?! Oh, uh, I mean, yeah, Apple Bloom’ll be here. She really likes them apple dumplin’s; I better make sure they’re gonna be ready. Got a hankerin’ fer some myself...” The earth pony presented the most broken smile as she rubbed her stomach, then backed slowly away towards the kitchen.

“Applejack, darling?” Rarity asked from beside Twilight, who had thought the other unicorn to have already gone, but Applejack’s fibbing had apparently been distinctive enough to call her back.

“Forget somethin’, Rare?” Applejack demanded impatiently, her breaths shallower and shallower, and her smile no longer broken but practically imploded as she speeded her retreat.

“Applejack!” Rainbow Dash stood in the kitchen entry, blocking the escape route, and leaving the increasingly distressed pony surrounded. “You are the worst liar I’ve ever seen. Now, obviously, you told somepony else. Am I right?”

The frightened mare gulped.

“That’s a ‘yes’. Why, did somepony catch you and Big MacIntosh doing the dirty?” Rainbow shoved an interrogative eyeball into Applejack’s sweat-drenched face, forcing her to cower.

The earth pony stared with pleading eyes at Twilight, who began seriously considering leaving the riddle be. Whatever the reason for her friend’s unexpected reticence, it had to be important. Then Applejack looked at Rarity, with a much different expression; one that blanched her face, plastered her ears down, and even granted a small twitch to her left eye.

The farmpony was terrified.

“Come on, A.J., you can tell us!”

“Applejack, my dear, it cannot be that bad, can it? Who saw you?”

“We always check before we start!” she cried at last, her eyes beginning to leak. “We’re always careful, makin’ sure there’s nopony around. It was the middle o’ the day! We did a walk around the barn an’ there was nopony in sight. The whole Acres was clear! We locked the doors an’... We check the hay loft usually, but this one time... Nopony should ever be hidin’ up there; there ain’t nothin’ up there but hay! And they were so quiet we never knew until... By Celestia, those three are never quiet!”

The lamp blinked on, illuminating the dread. ‘Oh, no.’

The whites of Rarity’s eyes were growing to inequine proportions. “Applejack...?” she squeaked.

The orange pony was on her knees. “I’m sorry, Rarity! We didn’t mean fer it ta happen. We were careful. We didn’t know!”

“Sweetie Belle!?!?”

“An’ Apple Bloom. An’ Scootaloo,” Applejack choked out the words like guilty phlegm. “They were hidin’ and saw us–”

In a flash, the white unicorn had transformed her look of terrified realisation to one of unmitigated wrath. “What did you do to my sister?!?!” she howled, lunging at the earth pony with murderous force.

Dash was fast. With a leap over Applejack, she interposed herself between the two ponies, catching Rarity in a bearhug and stopping her advance dead.

For a second.

Eyes burning red with rage, the unicorn pushed forward another step towards the pertified, balled-up Applejack, Rainbow Dash’s hindhooves slipping on the hardwood even as she beat her wings to apply extra forward pressure.

A red stallion appeared. “What the–?”

“Big Mac, get over here and help me!” the pegasus yelled.

Big MacIntosh, determined, approached the entwined ponies from the side, but this only caused Rarity to identify and lock her fury onto a different target. She twisted, forcing Rainbow to rapidly adjust her angle of attack and lose a few precious inches of ground in the process.

“You!!!” she howled at the red pony, clearly intending flagrant injury upon him.

The stallion, his entire body a weave of toned muscle, head and shoulders taller than the mare he faced, more massive than Rainbow and Rarity combined, and known for being able to rip a house off its foundations, froze. His ears pinned back. His teeth locked. His eyebrows turned down at the sides.

He took a step back.

“Darn it!” Rainbow cried as her grip on the squirming creature of fury weakened. “Twilight! Don’t just stand there; Do something!”

“Oh, right! Um... uh...” The purple pony rummaged her mental library, looking for a spell appropriate to the occasion. She hadn’t ever really planned for the ‘one-of-my-friends-wants-to-kill-another’ contingency. She gasped. “Okay, I got it!”

With two bright flashes of light, Applejack and Big MacIntosh disappeared from the room, only for a third flash to deliver them some two feet above the living room couch, where they fell into an inelegant heap. A little more magic, and a translucent magenta bubble formed, sealing the seat and its occupants from the rest of the room.

“You can let her go now,” Twilight informed Rainbow Dash.

Immediately, Rarity ran over to the bubble, pounding her hooves on it with frightening force.

Twilight winced. The barrier had been hastily constructed, and was fragile; mostly just there for show. It wouldn’t withstand a prolonged assault. Fortunately, Rarity didn’t know that, and gave up attacking, as her rage devolved into frenzied wheezes and snorts very much unbecoming a mare of her class. The two Apple siblings were in each other’s embrace, staring back at her with expressions of shock.

“Easy there, Rare.” Dash’s hoof was smacked away.

“I want you to tell me right now what you perverts did to Sweetie Belle!”

“I didn’t touch her, Rarity, I swear it!” Applejack cried, her cheeks wet. “Neither of us laid a hoof on ’er.”

“What happened?!”

“Well... she... saw us. They all did.”

“How much?!”

“Him on... I mean... I... We were ruttin’, alright?! An’ they saw us! D’ya want me ta draw you a diagram?!” Applejack yelled, a painful frown on her soaked face.

“What did you tell her?!”

“I... I explained things the best I could... I didn’t lie.” The younger sibling separated from her brother and straightened. “Apple Bloom already knew what sex looked like. Ya don’t grow up on a farm raisin’ livestock without learnin’ ’bout the circle o’ life pretty darn quick. Scootaloo understood things, too. Said she saw that kinda stuff in a magazine, but no matter what, I couldn’t get ’er cough up where she found it.”

Rainbow Dash tensed and took a couple of steps back, whistling a quiet tune, suddenly finding herself profoundly fascinated by various pieces of furniture.

“Sweetie Belle!” Rarity demanded, tears marring her makeup.

“She, uh... well, she was the first one ta say anythin’... She... she thought Big Mac was hurtin’ me. She... tried ta rescue me... heh...” Applejack explained with an anguished smile, seemingly impressed by what the brave-hearted little filly had sought to do. “But I told her that wasn’t it; that it was somethin’ grow-up ponies did ta make each other feel good an’ have foals if they wanted.”

The white unicorn was on her haunches now, pulling her cheeks downward as her eyes turned to the heavens. “Oh, Sweetie...” she whimpered.

“I gave her The Talk!” Applejack admitted. “There weren’t any ways around it! An’ then I told ’em that lotsa folk don’t care fer brothers an’ sisters doin’ that sorta thing with each other, which is why we never wanted anypony ta find out...” She wiped away a large glob of snot hanging out of her muzzle, and, having no other option inside the forcefield, picked up the doily her brother offered and used it to clean up. “I told ’em if they wanted ta know more they should talk to their parents or check out some books in the library, but ta please keep it hush-hush that Mac an’ I’d been doin’ it. An’ they seemed ta take it well enough, an’ we sent ’em off.”

Something struck Twilight. “Applejack, did this happen about a month after the Summer Harvest Festival? Edn of September?”

“Uh... yeah, I reckon...”

“Then that explains it!” the unicorn announced cheerfully.

“Explains what?”

“Why Spike told me that the Crusaders came in one day looking for books on entomology.”

Rainbow Dash pitched her head. “Anti-what, now?”

Twilight frowned. “Entomology. The study of... You know what, never mind.” She gestured dismissively. “It’s not important right now. Rarity, I think you’re overreacting. It doesn’t sound like anything bad happened to Sweetie Belle.”

“Yeah,” Rainbow confirmed. “We’re all mammals. She just saw nature taking its course. Think of it as a biology lesson.”

Rarity jumped into a wide stance, bursts of hot mist puffing from her nostrils, several strands of her mane frayed and curled out of place. “I have had enough of your vulgar, uneducated, perverted, swinish, selfish, disgusting commentary, Rainbow Dash! Just because your deviant mind seems unable to take any of these matters seriously, does not mean they are not serious, you... you... strumpet!”

The pegasus stared dumbly. Twilight hoped she hadn’t apprehended the meaning of that last word. “Rarity, I understand you’re upset, and you’re right to be concerned, but this happened months ago. Sweetie Belle hasn’t shown any worrying behaviour in that time – at least nothing related to sex or romance. I really think she’s just fine. Besides, I’m pretty sure her class had a basic sex-ed unit this year, and they covered this sort of thing anyway.”

The white pony’s fiery gaze turned on Twilight. She braced herself for a barrage of insults.

“That may be so, but I hardly think Cheerilee invites stallions to her classroom to give live demonstrations in front of her students!”

“Demonstrations o’ what?” a young voice sounded from the hallway. There was a cool draft, then the sound of a door slamming. Soon after, a chipper yellow-coated filly cantered into the room, her large pink bow bobbing sprightly in her mane. “Oh, hi, everypony!” she greeted, happily at first, but her expression fell as she ascertained the mood of the room. “Uh... is this a bad time?”

“I was just leaving!” Rarity declared, wrapping her scarf more times and more tightly than was necessary, leaving her muzzle hidden. Her voice muffled behind it. “I have to go see after my little sister!” Her eyes still brimmed with tears as she ran for the front door, and disappeared into the night.

Granny Smith shambled forward, looking bewildered. “An’ jus’ what has got that nice filly’s tail wrapped up in knots?” Her aged eyes took in the room. “An’ why’s everypony lookin’ glum as a plum?” Her nose bumped into the magic shield. She rubbed it in irritation. “Dagnabbit.”

Twilight quickly lowered the forcefield. “Sorry,” she said sheepishly.

Applejack sighed with shaky breath. “We had a fight, granny. Bad one.”

“Well, that ain’t right,” the ancient mare stated sadly as she climbed up next to her. “Whose fault was it?”

“Mine,” her granddaughter replied without hesitation, using both hooves to displace the wetness on her face.

Granny Smith nodded sagely. “Are ya sorry it happened?”

“I sure am...”

“An’ are ya willing ta work ta make it sound again?”

“Uh-huh,” the orange pony nodded.

“Then you’re halfway home!” A venerable hoof patted Applejack’s shoulder. “It may not happen overnight, but you’ll work things out. Friends like the ones you’ve got don’t come along but once in a hundred moons. Let ’er know how sorry y’are, an’ she’ll forgive ya. Jus’ give ’er some time.”

The orange mare didn’t appear thoroughly convinced. “I sure hope you’re right, granny.”

Rainbow Dash spoke, her eyes alight with determination, “Well, I’m going after her!”

“Are you sure?” Twilight questioned. “I don’t think she’s in the mood to talk to you right now, Rainbow Dash.”

“Nuts to mood! You heard what she said to me, and I didn’t even do anything! If anything, she owes me an apology.” Dash grinned deviously. “Which is why I’m going to work my charm on her. If I play my cards right and smoothly lay on the guilt trip, I’ll win her over in no time! I might even patch things up between her and Applejack!”

Twilight’s mouth opened in surprise.

Dash whispered in her ear as she flittered past, “Oh, and in case you’re wondering, I know what a ‘strumpet’ is. I told you; not much of an insult to me.” She winked.

Further words of opposition from the unicorn didn’t have a chance; Dash was gone. Though she couldn’t say she had a lot of faith in the pegasus’ persuasive abilities, Twilight had to give pause and admire the strategy; Rarity had crossed a line of propriety against a pony who had not even gone as far as using her as a shield against flying pastry. With the right buttons pushed, Rarity could be made to feel guilt over the incident, which could then be exploited.

If Dash didn’t screw the whole thing up. ‘Subtle’ was not one of her middle names.

“You’re not mad at Applejack, too, are ya, Twilight?” Apple Bloom asked, approaching her cautiously.

The pregnant mare smiled. “No, I’m not mad at Applejack – not anymore, anyway.” A small chuckle let the filly know she had nothing to worry about as a purple hoof patted her mane, to great delight.

“Then... are ya gonna stay with us for supper?” The yellow pony looked up at her with deep, shimmering eyes, her voice full of heart-rending hope. She blinked twice, the sound like the soft plucks of harpstrings.

Twilight received a timid smile of confirmation from Applejack, although at this point it was merely a formality. Spike would be fine; she’d told him she might be late.

Nopony could resist those eyes.

“I’d love to.”

Author's Notes:

Pre-read by Journeyman and Skeeter the Lurker. My thanks once again, guys.

Lots of stuff happening in this part.

For those who haven't read the mature-rated stories "Complicated Relations" (by me) or "Like Two Peas in a Pod" (by Flutterwhy4), this chapter contained summaries of those, so you're pretty much caught up on all the relevant background stuff now.

Applejack drinking orange juice is actually a reference to a short joke fic I haven't written yet, and may never write.

The CMC catching A.J. and Big Mac having sex was part of the "alternate" sequel I had planned for Complicated Relations. I had a sequence planned wherein a confused Sweetie Belle questions what exactly they saw, and Apple Bloom replies to her with a Hurricane of Euphemisms for sexual intercourse. Then Scootaloo calls her a dictionary.

Instances where I deliberately ignored a pre-reader's sound advice:

- Tartaros instead of Tartarus. Because that's clearly what Twilight says in "It's About Time", and I'm obsessed with show accuracy. Except when I'm not.

- Dash drooling while listening to Twi's story. Dash isn't sexually excited at this point; just enthralled by the story. Drooling due to extreme fascination with something is an embarrassing event that happens to me sometimes.

- "Thaumatocompositional". I love big words. Even better when I get to make them.

- "Entomology". That joke is about a year old, and I wasn't letting go of it. Hands up, who "got it"?

Horrible subplot idea that I left out because it was horrible and completely stupid:

Applejack did get pregnant at one point with Big MacIntosh's foal. She then had a Convenient Miscarriage. Yeah, be glad that's gone. It did nothing for the plot and only served as a tearful moment for Twilight to hug Applejack (she does plenty of that anyway) and for Applejack to say something accidentally hurtful to Twilight ("I'm glad that problem took care of itself.") In defiance of the Sad tag on this story, I keep writing it more hopeful and happier overall than I originally planned. Instead of a bloody miscarriage, we got the joke about pulling out instead.

Division

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It was hypnotic; watching Pinkie Pie eat.

Although “eating” was a term to be used loosely. It was more accurate to say Pinkie inhaled the sweets and baked goods set in front of her, the over-loud munching and movements of her jaw more of a guise designed to make it appear that she was chewing, when in actuality she was simply forcing every bit of foodstuff down her gullet in the most expedient manner possible.

Twilight did some quick mental arithmetic; at her present rate of consumption, Pinkie would eat everything on the table in under ninety seconds.

And there was a lot on the table; two oversized pastry trays holding impressively-stacked pyramids of everything from cookies both simple and fancy, through various puffs and strudels, all the way to miniature cakes, all being devoured without mercy. Edibles powdered and glazed alike met their end in Pinkie’s maw, their only respite being when the pink party pony took a second to down another full teacup, which Twilight dutifully refilled time and again, mesmerised all the while.

Not that the unicorn could complain much; it had been Pinkie herself who had brought the treats from Sugarcube Corner.

Fluttershy, on Pinkie’s right, sat cradling her own tea in her hooves, at intervals taking a sip or nibbling on the small fruit tart she had rescued from the pile. She, too, watched the spectacle with a degree of calm fascination.

Across from them sat Twilight and Rainbow Dash, occasionally eating what they could, occasionally exchanging glances as the former slowly mustered her courage and the latter helpfully filled in for her silence with an admittedly engaging story about the Wonderbolts’ training program.

It was midday on a Friday in the library; the same Friday that had been supposed to be a get-together of six pony friends. Two had received invitations to hear Twilight’s biggest life secret. Two were absent because of it. One was on her team.

In truth, Twilight would have preferred to have Applejack by her side most of all, but she and Rarity had gone to Manehattan to repair their friendship. It had been the earth pony who insisted on “making it up” to her friend, and though Twilight personally believed that Rarity had behaved in a unjustifiably detestable manner toward Applejack, the farmpony had quite fiercely accepted full blame for the fiasco in spite of Twilight’s argument.

And so Applejack, in a truly formidable effort at making amends, had pulled some favours from her Manehattanite relatives and spent a not-insignificant amount of bits to secure two box seat tickets to a Friday showing of the Manehattan Symphony Orchestra – a notoriously exclusive high-society event of the kind Rarity was known to fawn over. She had presented the pair of tickets, accompanied by a further set of two-way first-class train tickets, as a gift to Rarity in the hope that the fashionista would find herself somepony worthy of her company to attend the event with.

Here, the details got a little fuzzy, as Twilight had gotten the news second-hoof from Rainbow Dash, but, through some mind-bending interplay of the rules of gratitude, courtesy, reciprocity, humility, and honour between the two ponies, Applejack herself had inadvertently been lassoed into becoming Rarity’s “date” for the evening.

Their friend held no objections; her own invitee list had been lightened by two names, but a smaller gathering was more conducive to her goal anyway.

Thus the stage was set.

Twilight’s wingpony paused in her speech, having wrapped up her current tangent with a trademark glib, self-confident remark in such a way that somepony else could interject with a new topic if they wished. It was the third time she’d done that, but Twilight had silently passed every prior opportunity – though if Dash was annoyed, she failed to show it. Last-minute doubt flitted and tumbled in the unicorn’s mind, the memory of the fight at Sweet Apple Acres having spooked her into questioning whether it made sense for Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy to know the whole truth after all.

Her senses in a Pinkie-trance and her brain effectively still chasing its own tail, she was about to pass on this lull as well, when suddenly Pinkie Pie belched. Very, very loudly.

Everypony’s head snapped. Nothing remained on the table.

The unexpected aural disturbance toppled the wobbly coin standing on edge in Twilight’s mind, and she was speaking to the real world before she even realised it. “Ahem, everypony, I have an announcement to make.”

Just like that, all eyes were on her. Recent unpleasant memories triggered. ‘Oh, dear.’ There was still time to back out.

But no; the coin had landed firmly, and Twilight was committed. Her mental checklist was check-ready.

And Rainbow Dash was with her. No matter what, she wouldn’t be alone. She drew strength from that. “Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, please understand that what I’m about to tell you, I’m telling you in confidence, because you’re my friends and I think you deserve to know the truth.” She glanced downward with a sigh. “Though I wouldn’t be surprised if you already guessed part of what this is about.” Rarity had spoken of the rumours milling around town...

“Ooh, ooh!” A hoof waved manically in the air. “Pick me, pick me! I love guessing games!”

Rainbow rolled her eyes, cringing slightly.

Twilight, meanwhile, prepared for any off-the-wall, sanity-bending answer. “Uh... Pinkie?” she indicated cautiously.

“You have a bun in the oven!” the mare declared, grinning.

Twilight breathed again, and mentally checked off the appropriate item with a glimmer of satisfaction. “Very good, Pinkie, you got it in one.” She pushed forth a smile and gave her navel a self-assuring stroke. “Though I suppose it’s getting to be pretty obvious at this point.”

“Nuh-uh!” Pinkie denied with a vigorous shake. “I had no idea at all! It was just a lucky guess!”

Twilight arched a brow. “Really?”

“Yes, really! It was a total shot in the dark! I mean, I can’t even smell any buns right now, and if anypony would know the smell of something baking, it’d be me, since I work in a bakery,” the pink pony proclaimed. “Is it just one bun, though? Because I don’t think that’s enough for all four of us, unless it’s a really, really big bun. Do you need help decorating it? ’Cause I brought some icing; you know, in case of icing emergency!”

Twilight stared at the bowl of pink, vanilla-scented stuff Pinkie had conjured, before bringing her forehead and the table together for a concussive conference. “Pinkie! I don’t have a literal bun in the oven. In fact, there are no more buns! You ate them all.” She resisted the urge to point out that, thanks to the earth pony’s appetite, she was actually still pretty hungry. She downed her tea in substitution.

“What?! Why would you say that, then?” Pinkie huffed as if she’d been personally wronged. “That’s not very nice.”

“I didn’t realise you meant it literally.” ‘Though I probably should have guessed,’ her mind added. “‘A bun in the oven’ is a figure of speech.” Twilight scratched away at her mental list. Few things were as unsatisfying as removing a checkmark.

“Aww, I don’t like figures of speech,” the other mare said, looking suddenly morose. “They always get my hopes up for something really neat, and then I end up disappointed when it’s something boring.”

“Yeah, well, this is pretty far from boring,” Rainbow interjected.

“I’m pregnant,” the unicorn said with surprising ease. The desire to get the conversation back to some semblance of rationality definitely helped move things along, outweighing any trepidation.

There were two gasps: a timid, quiet one – and another which nearly sucked all the air out of the room.

“You’re gonna have a foal?!” Pinkie near-shrieked, her eyes bugging. “You hear that everypony?! Twilight’s gonna have a little little itty-bitty baby Twily! Ohmygosh, ohmygosh, this is so great! Congratulations!” A party horn sounded as inexplicable confetti rained down on the group.

Twilight considered this a good start. Box ticked for sure this time. “Thank you, Pinkie. And yes, I’d be happy for you to plan the foal shower,” she anticipated smartly.

Another mega-gasp started...

“In about four months.”

...and died. “Aw.”

“You seriously couldn’t tell Twilight was pregnant?” Rainbow asked, incredulous.

“Well, duh, of course she’s pregnant! I mean, just look at her!” The pink pony demonstrated by appearing behind Twilight and jiggling her protruding belly.

“Hey!”

“Look at this baby bump! What pony wouldn’t be able to tell she’s pregnant?”

“Um... actually... I couldn’t,” Fluttershy offered meekly as Rainbow dragged the personal-space-invader back to her seat, pink hooves scraping along heartwood.

“Ugh, then why’d you act like it was a surprise?” she asked.

The earth pony clucked her tongue. “Oh, Dashie, don’t you know you never mention a mare’s pregnancy before she tells you herself? It’s super-mega-rude! I mean, do you think I just started talking to Mrs. Cake about her big belly to her face?! Because I totally did, and that’s how I found out about that rule!”

“Congratulations, Twilight,” Fluttershy said with a demure smile. “That’s wonderful news. Oh, unless it isn’t...” A smile and nod assuaged her. “It is? Well, then, I’m very happy for you. I hope you’re feeling well.”

Her friends’ positivity bolstered Twilight. Unfortunately, she had been down this road before. “I am, but...”

She could stop. They didn’t need to know. And the consequences of knowing could rend their friendship apart.

But they deserved to know.

“I’m sure you’re both wondering who the father is.”

“Ooh, ooh, more guessing games!” Pinkie bounced on her pillow. “Is it Thunderlane?”

“What?!” cried Rainbow.

“Thunderlane?!” Twilight shouted at the same time. “But–? How–? Why would I be involved with Thunderlane?”

The earth pony shrugged. “Dunno. You kinda looked like you were checking him out during tornado training.”

“That was ages ago! And I wasn’t ‘checking him out’, I was paying attention to him because he showed signs of being sick. And he turned out to have the feather flu in the end, so my suspicions were completely justified! And how did you see that, anyway? You weren’t even part of– Aaaugh!” Twilight brought both forehooves to her face, shielding her sanity from the ridiculousness.

The pink pony, meanwhile, stroked her chin as she wound up for another try. “Hmm, if it’s not Thunderlane, then is it–”

“No! No more guessing! This is serious!” Rainbow shouted furiously from mid-air, pre-empting by milliseconds Twilight doing the same. She, too, threw a forelimb over her eyes. “Ugh, Twi, can you just skip to the part where you say it? She’s not going to get any less Pinkie the longer you hold out.”

The unicorn was forced to agree. Like ripping off a bandage, the exchange was bound to be less painful if she bypassed some of the preparatory grooming and got straight to the point.

She took a breath. “The father...” She swallowed. “...is...” She bit her lip.

Rainbow Dash was still hovering beside her. Facing her were the pony that accepted and showed kindness to everyone, and the pony who only wanted to see those around her be happy. Her friends.

“The father is... a pony I’ve known all my life. He’s somepony I’ve always been close to. Somepony I love. We never meant to have a child together, but I don’t regret the relationship we have. The father... is Shining Armor.”

There was darkness.

That was because Twilight had her eyes shut tight.

When she opened them, she was met with Fluttershy staring back at her with an expression of shock. Slowly the yellow pegasus sank an inch or two into her seat, in her typical fashion of making herself smaller in view of a threat. "Oh... my," she said, barely audible.

Pinkie Pie, in contrast, was looking back with a face of mild confusion, as if she were trying to work out the meaning of a joke she didn’t get.

And then she got it.

The earth pony exploded into laughter, falling backwards and hugging her stomach. “Ahahahahahaha! Oh, that’s a good one! I almost believed you there for a second!”

Twilight and Rainbow exchanged looks. Both cringed uncomfortably.

“Heeheehee! Oh, Twilight, you’re such a crack-up! Ahahaha!”

“Pinkie, I’m serious!” the unicorn cried.

This only caused the laughing pony to hiccup and snort a few times.

Twilight stared, helpless. Out of all the responses the pregnant mare could have gotten, this was the most unexpected... and somehow the most hurtful to see. Even Rainbow’s insolent laughter hadn’t cut as deep as the innocent chortles of a pony who simply didn’t accept the truth. Twilight’s relationship with her brother had been long and intense enough to shape a part of her personality. To have it deemed unbelievable was somehow even worse than simply having it judged as wrong.

Thankfully, Pinkie’s cackles were dying off naturally, and she righted herself while wiping a cheek. She was still half giggling when she said, “That was really funny, Twilight. I mean, you having a foal with your brother?”

“Um, Pinkie...” Fluttershy eyed the earth pony with concern, before turning back to Twilight. Her expression was reluctant; pensive and downcast. “I think she’s telling the truth.” There was no accusation or anger in her voice, but something was definitely being held beneath the placid surface.

Dash, too, came to Twilight’s defense. “Pinkie, this isn’t a joke. Twilight’s gonna have a kid, and it’s her brother’s.”

“But... but...” The pink pony’s ears folded back, as she looked momentarily lost; a helpless filly separated from her parents in a bustling city street. “That means you and Shining Armor...?”

Twilight affirmed, “Yes, Pinkie. We’ve been involved physically.” ‘And this time, I’m not going into details.’

“It’s kind of a requirement, you know,” Rainbow added, forcing the unicorn to bite her tongue to avoid a detour lecture regarding artificial insemination methods.

“Twilight, that’s...”

There was a length of time – likely lasting only a few ticks of the clock, but which to the unicorn stretched agonisingly long – where it wasn’t altogether clear which expression the earth pony would settle on, as the well-worked muscles of her face appeared fraught with indecision, vacillating between her natural smile and the rarer but no less authentic Pinkie frown. More and more, though, she appropriated the look of a pony who had just put a very, very sour candy into her mouth.

“...that’s horrible!” Pinkie’s voice rose as she stretched upward, forehooves planting into the tabletop, her face twisting into an expression of unmistakable anger. “How could you do that?! And how could Shining Armor do that?! He’s supposed to be a Captain and a Prince and a husband and big brother and officer and gentlecolt and all sorts of other shiny good things and that’s not how a pony who is a shiny good pony acts!”

“Whoa, there!” Dash mirrored the pink pony’s posture, the two standing nearly nose-to-nose over the table. “There’s nothing wrong with what they did!”

“Nothing wrong?!” the other mare screeched and huffed. “Are you kidding me?! They were bumping rumps, knocking horseshoes, playing hide the hoagie, churning the butter, doing two-pony push-ups, practicing the mattress mambo, making the beast with four cutie marks, corralling the one-eyed snake behind the dock, doing the hippity dippity doo-dah!” her mouth screamed into the heavens.

Amid the mounting sense of anguish, the pregnant unicorn couldn’t help but be impressed. For a pony who supposedly disliked figurative turns of phrase, Pinkie was certainly in no shortage of them.

“Yeah, so what? Big deal! If Twilight wants to get it on with her big bro, what’s it to you?”

“What’s it to me is Twilight’s little ‘private party for two’ has more than two, no matter who got the invitations or how many pieces she cut from the cake!”

“What–? She’s gonna take care of the foal. And get the candy corn out of your ears; she wasn’t trying to get pregnant! It just happened.”

“And it wouldn’t have happened if she didn’t have sex with her brother!”

Seeing Fluttershy cowering with her hooves protectively over her head, and Rainbow and Pinkie seriously looking like they might come to blows, Twilight quickly opted to give diplomacy a chance, putting her own growing hurt aside.

“Pinkie Pie,” she stated as authoritatively yet non-confrontationally as she could, at the same time gently pulling Dash back. “I respect your right to feel the way you do, but I hope you can respect that this is my choice and I will be the pony to handle the consequences.”

Yet Pinkie wasn’t in the least bit pacified. “Respect?! What about your respect for other ponies? You think this is all about you? Pfft! No way, missy! I don’t go judging what ponies do in bed – unless I’m the judge at a pillow-fort building competition, but that only happens twice a year. But when you play games that can end up hurting innocent ponies, that’s where I draw the line!” Pinkie declared as she plowed a thick red crayon over a large paper sheet spread before her, then spit it off into the distance.

Rarely had Twilight heard the logic-bending pony speak with such coherence about matters so weighty – though, of course, with her own bit of Pinkie flair. What was truly surprising was that Pinkie was, to all appearances, meeting the scholar on her own battlefield – a landscape of reason and normative ethics – and making a competent attack.

Twilight’s tryst had brought into being Little Cadance – an innocent who deserved no punishment on account of her mother’s actions. A pony’s entire thread of existence was in her hooves. The thought still stung; and the unicorn rallied all her resolve to repel both Pinkie and her own biting conscience.

“How my daughter was conceived is irrelevant. I can be a responsible mother for her. I will be a responsible mother. I know it. I admit that Shining Armor and I could have been more careful about protection, but there is nothing inherently wrong with our relationship. He wanted it, I wanted it; it was a case of completely mutual desire.”

Pinkie huffed, then yelled, “If you wanted your twat tickled that badly, you could’ve just asked Thunderlane!”

Twilight’s jaw dropped, though she recovered fast with a slam of hooves and a surge of righteous fury. “Enough with Thunderlane! The only pony I wanted to mate with was my brother, who is smart and attractive and loves me, and I don’t care whether you like it or not; I’m glad we did it!” It felt almost too good to strike back; every word seemed to bubble up from some warm and secure place in her core, soothing her throat as she spat it out.

Pinkie Pie gasped, then gasped again, somehow channeling Rarity all the way from Manehattan. “Well, if that’s the way you feel, then I guess we don’t have anything to talk about!” She crossed her forelegs and harrumphed.

“I guess we don’t!” Twilight shot back.

“Fine!”

“Double-fine!”

“Quadruple!”

“Fine times infinity!”

Twilight blinked.

Pinkie leaned closer. “Psst...You’re supposed to say ‘fine times infinity plus one!’”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” the unicorn rebutted the suggestion. “Infinity plus one is equal to infinity.”

“Oh, then I win!” Pinkie squeaked the briefest of smiles – before settling back into a low-browed snarl. “Well, since we’re both so very infinity fine, I will be on my way. Oh, don’t bother getting up, I’ll get my own hat.” Here, she pressed a stylish dark-grey fedora to her head – though Twilight could swear she hadn’t come in with it – and opened the front door. “Come on, Fluttershy, we don’t need to be around where ponies don’t care for ponies who care about ponies – even those ponies that don’t care.”

Fluttershy downstared as she rubbed her hooftips together. “Umm, actually, I was hoping that I could hear Twilight tell us more about how this all happened to h–eeeep!” Her sentence was cut short as a pink limb hooked her waist and dragged the surprised pegasus out the door.

There was a slam.

Several seconds of vacant silence passed before Rainbow threw her hooves toward the door and screamed, “What the hay was that?!”

The empty entryway gave no reply.

“I made a mistake,” Twilight declared in acrid defeat. “It was a bad idea to tell them. They didn’t have to know. Ugh. What was I even thinking? Now Pinkie Pie hates me.” Her chin rested on the table as she blew a few sweet crumbs away and used her magic to languidly collect the empty plates and teacups into a pile, her eyes staring dully forward. She paused to examine the dark residue at the bottom of one cup.

That wasn’t supposed to be there. It should have been filtered out. And nopony had commented on the tea blend. A poor job, just like the rest of the evening.

While her hopes had lain on Pinkie’s accepting and free-spirited nature to be approving, or at least ambivalent, about things like consensual incest, Twilight had also planned for a distinctly negative outcome. As part of that, she’d promised herself that, no matter what happened, she wouldn’t cry. She’d done plenty enough of that already.

She inhaled and wiped her eyes. They were moist, but she wasn’t crying.

“Something here doesn’t add up,” said the pegasus beside her. “Rarity’s one thing, but I never expected Pinkie Pie to act like that. I just don’t understand what her problem is.”

“She’s concerned about the effect this whole affair will have on my daughter. Pinkie loves foals; she thinks Little Cadance won’t have a proper childhood because of how she was conceived. I’m going to do my best, but... she has a point.”

“Nuh-uh. She’s concerned about the kid? Fine. But then she should be trying to help or something. How’s yelling at you going to do anything?”

“She was just surprised and angry.”

“I’m going after her.”

This snapped Twilight to attention. She literally put her hoof down. “Rainbow, no. Pinkie’s emotions are running high right now.”

Dash stared at her.

“...Well, higher than normal. We should give her time to calm down. Maybe I can talk to her in a day or two, reassure her that the best interests of my foal are my top priority; maybe I can salvage our friendship.”

But the pegasus was already airborne, her features sketched in grim creases of determination. She scoffed, “You can wait and plan all you want, but right now, I’m going after that pony to find out what crawled up her tail-hole! Nopony talks to my friend that way!”

Twilight prepared to object again, and had even begun to charge her horn to stop Dash leaving, when the front door squeaked open.

A sliver of long, soft-pink mane came into view, soon followed by the rest of Fluttershy’s timid frame. “Oh, um, h– hello again. Pinkie’s gone, but... I just wanted to come back and say: Thank you for having us, Twilight. I hope everything works out for you and your daughter. Your secret’s safe with me and... and you can count on my help if you need it.” Her muzzle birthed a tiny smile, though the rest of her demeanor – still barely inside the library, ears down, hoof scraping at a spot on the floor – made her look especially uncomfortable.

At that, Twilight felt a wave of relief wash through her. With Pinkie having so overwhelmed the situation, she had nearly forgotten the involvement of another friend whose feelings were just as important. She could only hope that she hadn’t seeded the beginnings of an ideological tear between Fluttershy and Pinkie.

“Hah!” Rainbow cried triumphantly. “See, Twi? Things’re gonna be just fine. We got Fluttershy on board; Pinkie’s gonna have to come around.”

“So, you don’t have any problems with incest?” Twilight asked, daring to tempt her good fortune.

Fluttershy looked thoughtful. “Not really. Some of my critter friends have found comfort in the same way, so it can’t be all bad. Love works in strange ways. It is the first time I’ve met a pony who was involved in that way…” She looked to one side and another, her lips bitten into a small frown. “I’m just worried about Princess Cadance in all this. She and Shining Armor seem like such a sweet couple. I hope their marriage can survive. Is your brother going to tell her?”

Dash and Twilight looked at each other.

The unicorn pulled her mental checklist for review. Thanks to a certain pony’s antics, a few of the entries had been scribbled, skipped, and/or covered in pink frosting. One item in particular.

“…Uh-oh.”

“Alright, first question,” Shining Armor said, his wary and confused eyes fixed on the mare before him as his heart rate returned to normal. “What exactly are you doing in my bathtub?”

“I came to talk to you about Cadance,” Pinkie Pie replied, contorting her bottom lip to blow an accumulation of soap bubbles off her muzzle.

“...While I’m taking a bath?”

“Oh, I know how busy it can get, being a Prince and all, and we needed someplace private,” Pinkie explained with a series of playful bats at the water. “I figured this wouldn’t impact your schedule, you’d be relaxed, and we’d have all the privacy we need.” In a flash her features turned grim. “But don’t get any ideas, Your Highness. We’re not going to do anything naughty. In fact, me being in this tub has absolutely nothing to do with sex. Oh, except the part where we need to talk about you having sex with Twilight.”

The stallion exhaled and faced the water. “So, she decided to tell you.”

“Yep. It's a reeeal tough spot you’re in, which is why your good friend Pinkie Pie’s here to help,” the mare declared earnestly as she herded a rubber momma-ducky and her brood around the perimeter of the bath.

Shining Armor’s eyes formed a squint. “Alright. Next question: How did you get past the guards?”

Pinkie titled her head. “Guards?”

Hoof met face as the unicorn grumbled, “Great. Just great. You were completely right, Cadance, why don’t we just hang a huge banner in front of the Crystal Palace that says, ‘Welcome Changelings’?”

“Ooh, I can help with that! I’m really good at painting banners!”

“...Right. And the fruit basket?” He pointed to the colorful arrangement atop Pinkie’s head.

“Oh, that’s just my present for you and Cadance. Rarity says the proper protocol is to always bring a gift to the reigning monarchs when visiting their castle.”

Shining Armor leaned back and stared somewhere above, his face tensed in thought. “Well, that part makes sense, at least. Ever since we came to rule the Crystal Empire, we’ve been getting lots of gifts. But, for the future, you don’t have to bother, Pinkie. Cadance and I have more than enough.”

“Oh, okay!” The earth pony said as she bit into a pear she’s picked from her mane-basket. “Does that answer all your questions?”

“All except the one: What exactly do we need to talk about?”

Here, Pinkie sloughed off all pretense of joviality, tossed the fruit aside, her countenance as serious as a heart attack at a funeral.

“If you’ll recall, Prince Shiny, I was your certified, official, and approved-by-Princess-Celestia-herself wedding reception planner. I don’t accept an assignment like that without taking on a big responsibility for the results. Your marriage didn’t end when the party did, and neither did my obligation to ensure that you both remain as happy as the day you were married.”

“But... Cadance and I are happy.”

The pink mare sighed sadly and dramatically. “Denial. I thought this might happen. Prince Shiny, do you really think that a happy husband deceives his beloved, and gets another mare pregnant when everything is all right in his marriage?”

“What? But I never–”

“Oh, I understand!” Pinkie called out, pulling the stallion into a sloshy side-hug as one forelimb stretched upward. “The pressures of palace life! All your subjects looking to you for leadership. Politicians trying to curry favour, jockeying for position in your court. The economy in a nosedive!”

“Actually, our economy has been impro–”

“You and Cadance barely see each other! Your schedules so full, you might as well be strangers. And when you do get together, she’s just as stressed out as you are, it just doesn’t happen, and a stallion has needs. Oh, I understand you perfectly, Prince Shiny.” Pinkie faced the young Prince, her hooves on his shoulders, their noses almost in contact.

“Please stop calling me Shiny–”

“So you turn to a mare you’ve known all your life; a safe relationship, a safe love, and you think: ‘What Cadance doesn’t know won’t hurt her.’ She pushed you away; doesn’t attend to your needs. Why else would you turn to Twilight for comfort? How could anypony blame you? Oh, but you’re wrong, so wrong!”

“I think you have the wrong idea–”

But Pinkie paid him no mind, instead expounding to some invisible audience. “Just two bodies seeking relief. You tell yourself it doesn’t need to be more than that, but then BAM! Twilight’s pregnant, and you think you can hide that, too, and maybe you can, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s wrong to treat Cadance like this; it’s wrong to live a lie! I know you two still love each other! I know there’s still hope! Your marriage doesn’t have to be an empty shell built around a hollow lie covered in the slime of infidelity and spiralling towards the deadly whirlpool of divorce!”

Shining Armor stared, his jaw slack as Pinkie panted hard enough for the movements of her chest to create sizable waves in the tub. The water level had receded as the splashing had displaced a fair amount of liquid, fruit, and ducks onto floor, walls, and pony.

Once calmed somewhat, the mare pressed a hoof to her chest. “It is my solemn duty to see that you and Princess Cadance get your happily ever after.”

The stallion’s eyes went wide as understanding, and with it, a genuine fear, sparked within the soldier who had countless times brushed off death and eldritch horrors.

Heedless, Pinkie declared her intentions. “I’m here to save your marriage!”

Author's Notes:

And here, my dear readers, we reach the conceptual halfway point of the story. Yes, we're only halfway through. I'm not sure how true that is in terms of word-count, but this is the end of the second "section" of Winter's Child - the first being Twilight's decision, the second being her telling all her friends - and there are two more sections to go.

Thanks go out to my wonderful pre-readers, Journeyman and Exuno..

Sweet Celestia and Luna both, this chapter was a pain in the rump. It is by far my least favorite part of the entire story, and it took an unholy amount of time to write. I'm not proud of it; I'm just glad to have it over with.

Yes, I did essentially the same joke only a couple of chapters ago. This was, unfortunately, all I could come up with for Pinkie Pie.

If the beginning of this chapter seems similar to the beginning of ...And Borrowing Dulls The Edge Of Husbandry, that's because the two split from the same embryo.

Pinkie's line about how she doesn't like figures of speech is taken from Flash Fog.

Fluttershy's line about her animal friends is paraphrased from A Very Complicated Situation. (Which, incidentally, is an unofficial sequel to one of my own stories.)