Twilight makes a series of educational videos. Questionable judgment ensues.
After Celestia advises her to spend more time engaging with other ponies in her role as a princess, Twilight Sparkle decides to make educational videos for young colts and fillies. Unfortunately, her intentions and her emotions may be working at cross purposes. Questionable editorial judgment ensues.
“No! Spike! You have to screw it into the tripod, like…”
The camera fell over, briefly dissolving the picture into static. Then a purple glow obscured the lens, and when it faded, the room was back to normal.
“Sorry, but you know I haven’t done this before, Twilight. Anyway, why in Equestria did you decide you wanted to do this tonight of all nights? Aren’t we supposed to be going to Gummy’s third birthday party?”
“We’ll go in a little while. When I’m ready. I don’t… I don’t really want to see Rainbow just yet, okay?”
Spike sighed. “Sure. Whatever.”
Twilight stepped into frame, wearing a painfully large smile. “Hello, friends! This is Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Magic and Friendship, and I’d like to introduce you to my new video series, ‘Twilight Sparkle Investigates’. Today, we’re going to be learning all about beer!”
“You know this is a terrible idea, right?”
Twilight’s smile widened a little. “That voice you hear off camera is my faithful assistant Spike, who is helping me by filming this video. C’mere, Spike, and say hello to all the little colts and fillies at home!” Twilight’s eyes glinted in the over-bright lights of the library interior.
Spike edged into frame, doing his best to smile at the camera. “Hi, everypony.” He gave Twilight a quick glance and retreated back to anonymity.
Twilight muttered something under her breath, too low for the microphone to pick up. Then, she pitched her voice louder. “Okay, colts and fillies. What do you know about beer?” A brief pause, as if she expected a response. “Beer, as you may have heard, is made from grains like wheat and barley. It’s different from cider, like my friend Applejack makes, but it’s still really good sometimes. Especially when you’re mad at cider for kis—”
“Twilight…”
“Thank you, Spike. Yes. Beer is very good. And tonight, I’m going to be trying a few beers and letting you know what I think of them. We can enjoy them together!”
“I don’t think this is what Princess Celestia meant when she said you should engage with the ponies of Ponyville more.”
Twilight stepped out of frame for a moment, then returned with a small box. Although most of its contents were hidden from the camera, a number of thin bottlenecks protruded out of the box’s open top.
A purple aura surrounded one of the bottles and levitated it out of the box. It drifted closer to the camera, careful to leave Twilight unobstructed on the left side of the frame. “This first one is called Jose Marevos. It’s a wheat beer, with an alcohol content of…” The bottle levitated over to Twilight, and its cap flew off with a loud popping noise as she studied the label. “Thirteen percent—not bad! I heard about this particular variety last month when I was talking to Mister Davenport. He says this is his favorite. Let’s see how it tastes, shall we?”
The bottle levitated alongside Twilight as she paced over to a small table and seated herself. Then it floated to her lips and upended itself for approximately seven seconds, during which time a series of quiet, worried noises could be heard coming from off-camera. The bottle settled back to the table and Twilight grinned. “That really is good! I don’t know a whole lot about be— I mean… I’ll be learning with you, kids! But I think that one tastes excellent. Okay, why don’t we pause for a little bit and discuss how beer gets made.” The bottle floated up from the table once again, and Twilight’s eyes glimmered.
Thirty minutes later
“An’ then the wort ferments for a…” Twilight peered down at the book sitting open on the table. Her hoof wobbled back and forth over the page, never quite staying still. “For… a week? No, at least a week, up to a couple months. Then they send it out and bottle it!”
Another bottle, this one with a green label that the camera had never gotten a chance to properly observe, upended itself into Twilight’s mouth until it was empty. The bottle levitated over to the right side of the table where it joined four others, all of relatively small size, arranged in a precise formation like bowling pins. Another bottle floated out of the box—one of seven now remaining—and landed on the table in front of Twilight. “Ooh, Dos Equus! I’ve been waiting for this one to come up. I heard about this one from—”
Twilight looked off toward the ceiling of the library. After a few seconds, Spike coughed obtrusively.
“From… Applejack. My friend, Applejack. Yeah. She said it was really good.” Twilight stared at the bottle for a moment before letting her levitation lapse. This time, she picked it up between her hooves and gave it a long look. Then she tilted her head back and drained most of the bottle in one gulp.
“Twilight, I really don’t think you sh—”
“Aww hush, Spike. I can drink if I wanna. I’m old enough now, an’ I’m a princess!”
There was a brief silence, as Twilight stared at the table in front of her. She set down the bottle and ran one of her hooves across the rough wood.
“And you’re absolutely sure you want me to put this video up where everypony can see it?”
Twilight paused, as if trying to parse the question. Then she turned to glare off camera. “I said it’s for all the little colts and fillies, didn’ I? How’re they supposed to learn about beer if nobody’s there to teach ‘em?”
“And you’re absolutely sure little colts and fillies should be learning about beer?”
Twilight hiccuped.
The camera recorded a sigh, and then the image began to jostle from side to side.
“No! Spike! Stop it!” Twilight waved a hoof in the air, coming precariously close to knocking over the bottle of Dos Equus. “Stop it. Just… Just gimme a couple more minutes, okay?”
There was a little huff, but the camera stopped moving.
Twilight stared at the mostly-empty bottle in front of her. With great care, she lifted it to her mouth and finished it off. She set the now-empty bottle alongside the others she had finished. Then a purple glow surrounded the box and the remaining bottles, levitating them all out of frame.
“I do think colts and fillies should learn about beer,” she said. “Beer is part of the natural order of things. It’s been a tradition among earth ponies for…” Her eyes narrowed, and she rubbed a hoof against her temple. “For a long time. An’ it’s important to know about, too, ‘cause adult ponies drink it—sometimes because they like it, and sometimes… because they wanna not feel so…” Her voice trailed off.
Spike stepped into frame, momentarily blocking the camera’s view of the library interior. He walked to Twilight, sat down beside her, and rested his claw on one of her hooves.
Twilight turned to Spike. “Why’d she have to go an’… I mean, Applejack knew how I felt about Rainbow, didn’ she?”
Spike rubbed his claw across Twilight’s hoof, and after a moment, she closed her eyes and leaned into him, settling her chin on top of his head. Spike tried to hug her in return, though the way Twilight was leaning against him made the motion awkward.
The camera recorded two minutes of silence, and very little motion. Twilight’s eyes never opened, though a few small tears leaked from their corners.
Eventually, Spike released his embrace and pulled away. “We’re not going to Gummy’s birthday party, are we?”
Twilight blushed. “…no.”
“And you know it’s just gonna cause a whole lot of trouble if I post this, right? You’re a princess now. If ponies see this, they’re gonna talk, and a lot of them won’t have nice things to say.”
Twilight sighed. “I know. You’re right. Maybe this was a bad idea, Spike. Maybe doing educational videos is…” Again, she trailed off.
“So I can go turn off the camera, and then you can go to bed, and we can just forget tonight ever happened?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
Spike stood and walked toward the camera, looking a little smug.
“But… don’t delete the video, okay? Maybe someday I’ll find a use for it.”
“Are you sure you wanna…” A rainbow-maned head blocked the camera’s view. “I mean, I’m not a lot of good with all the science-y stuff. I just know how to use ‘em.”
Giggling, quickly stifled. “That’s, um, okay. I think I can handle the technical aspects.”
Rainbow Dash turned and trotted away from the camera, revealing a green hilltop covered in patches of autumn leaves. “Yeah, I guess you’d be really good with that sort of stuff,” she said, though the camera barely caught her words. She turned and trotted to the left, moving out of frame. A few seconds later she trotted across the image in the opposite direction. She stopped with only half her cutie mark and her tail still in the camera’s field of view.
“Rainbow,” the other voice called. “Rainbow!”
Twilight Sparkle cantered out from behind the camera, taking a position in the middle of the image and waving Rainbow Dash over.
“You ready to start? Okay, cool.” Dash walked back and stood near Twilight.
“Can you, um, maybe get a little closer?” Twilight asked. “I want to make sure we’re both in the frame.”
Dash moved in, but Twilight motioned for her to come closer still. After half a minute of awkward negotiation, Twilight had the pair of them standing wing-to-wing and flank-to-flank.
“Do we really need to…” Dash’s voice trailed off as her cheeks reddened, and she turned her head away from Twilight to stare at one of the piles of leaves on the ground.
“It’ll look much better on the video this way,” Twilight said, blushing. Her mouth quirked upward into a smile.
“If you say so. I just need to be out of here by sunset. I got… stuff I’m supposed to do.”
“Stuff?”
“Yeah, um, Sweet Apple Acres stuff.”
The smile slipped and fell from Twilight’s face. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. Then there was a pause, and the smile returned—even if it did look a little lopsided. “Hello, friends! This is Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Magic and Friendship, and I’d like to introduce you to my new video series, ‘Twilight Sparkle Investigates’. We’re going to start off by learning about wings!”
“I thought Spike said you did one on—”
Twilight continued as if Dash hadn’t spoken. “Today, I’m here outside Ponyville with my very good friend, Rainbow Dash. Rainbow is a pegasus pony like some of you, and she’s a really great flyer. She’s fast, and graceful, and bea…r in mind that sometimes she even trains with the Wonderbolts!”
“That’s, uh… Thanks, Twilight, but maybe we should start talking about—”
“Wings! Yeah. What can you tell us about wings, Rainbow?”
Dash narrowed her eyes and glanced at Twilight. She opened her mouth to say something, paused for a few seconds, closed it again, and finally finished up by flexing her wings and nudging Twilight to give her more space.
“Oh, yes.” Twilight blushed again and retreated out of frame, leaving Dash alone to spread her wings and show them off to the camera.
Dash spent a few seconds posing with her wings outstretched.
“Can you, um, tell the little colts and fillies about how they work, Rainbow?”
“Huh? Oh. I dunno, I just kind of flap them and they take me places. How does your horn work?”
“Sub-cellular structures that focus ambient magical energy in a way that allows for… Oh, but I think I see your point, yes.”
“Well, I guess, they have feathers, right? And the feathers give them a big, what-do-you-call-it, surface area. That lets me catch a lot of air in them and… Hey, this is why pegasi with smaller wings can’t fly as well, isn’t it?” Dash paused to look at her wings, and she grinned. “I have awesome wings!”
“Actually, it’s…” A grunt. “It’s more about aspect ratio and wing… hrrgh… loading.” Twilight moved back into frame, this time pushing a heavy-looking blackboard on wheels. The blackboard showed a large drawing of a wing. Once the blackboard was fully in frame, Twilight turned back toward the camera. “Okay, fillies and colts, it’s time to learn how pegasi fly!”
Dash gave her own wings a couple experimental flaps, not paying much attention to Twilight.
Twilight waved a hoof at the drawing on the blackboard. “This is a wing. Notice how it has three parts: the leading edge at the front of the wing, the the small feathers in the middle, and the big feathers at the back of the wing. The leading edge of the wing is just skin, bone, and muscle—like your hooves, everypony. Behind that, it’s all different kinds of feathers. Rainbow Dash, why don’t you show us your wings so the colts and fillies can see all the different parts?”
“Oh, sure. I know those parts.” Rainbow Dash trotted toward the camera a little, staying mostly in frame, and stretched out one of her wings. “So yeah, like Twilight was saying, this bit in front, that’s… I dunno, what was that called again? It’s kind of like my legs, I mean it moves the same way and it feels about the same, only a little smaller. Anyway, that’s the front part. And then behind that—” she rotated her wing to expose the feathers on the underside “—are the coverts. Those are the feathers in the middle. They’re softer and smaller than the other feathers, and they’re where you get most of the air you catch with your wings. And then behind those, at the back of the wing, you’ve got bigger feathers. We call them primaries on the outside of the wing and secondaries when they’re close to your body. They’re stiffer, and you use them to get more control when you fly. But you’ve got to make sure to preen them, so they’re aligned right. Otherwise your control goes off and you can’t do anything cool like trick flying. But preening is a lot of fun—it feels kind of like when you get your hoov—I mean… you’ve got to do it, right, so… uh…” Dash folded her wing back against her body and turned to look at Twilight. “How’s that?”
Twilight, wearing a distracted-looking smile, took a moment to respond. “Oh, um, great! That’s great, Rainbow. Okay, why don’t you come back over here with me?" As Dash trotted back toward the blackboard, a purple glow surrounded Twilight’s horn and the image of a wing on the blackboard began to move. “So those are the parts of the wing, but how do you use them to fly?”
“I dunno, you just do.” Dash stopped on the opposite side of the blackboard from Twilight, turning to face the camera.
“It was a rhetorical question, Rainbow. I wanted the audience to think about it, and then I was going to answer it myself.”
“Ooh, okay.” Dash glanced at her wings again. “So how do you use them, anyway? Like, how do the mechanics work?”
“They really didn’t teach you this at flight school?”
Dash scratched at her mane with one hoof. “Well, maybe. Fluttershy paid a lot more attention than I did. I just wanted to do it; I didn’t care a whole lot about how it all worked.”
Twilight turned away from the camera and toward Rainbow Dash, although her magic continued to animate the wing on the blackboard. “It’s pretty easy, really. You need to have enough speed to keep you up in the air. You do that by flapping, like you were talking about before. That gives you thrust, and then you fix your wings for a little while to grab the lift off that thrust. Then you flap again. And if you want to maneuver, you just…”
Both ponies were quiet for a few moments. A breeze gusted by, swirling autumn leaves in front of the camera.
“Twilight? Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. I just realized I don’t really know how you maneuver.” Twilight extended her own wings, flexing them and staring at the feathers.
Dash grinned. “Well, if you wanted, I could take you up and we could do some real flying so I can show you.”
“That, um…” Twilight’s cheeks went crimson, and she shivered. “That sounds… Oh, but what about the video?”
“You’re an alicorn, right? Just magic it off the tripod and bring it along.”
Twilight giggled nervously. “Okay. Let’s give it a try!”
“Hello, friends! This is Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Magic and Friendship, and I’d like to welcome you back to my new video series, ‘Twilight Sparkle Investigates’. Today, we’re going to learn about something very important to me—proper library management.”
The light of the setting sun cut through the library’s windows, leaving wide stripes of gold across the floor and many of the bookshelves. Twilight sat beside a low table that held a pile of neatly stacked hard-bound books. Other piles of books sat on the floor around the table and behind Twilight.
“Most of you probably know that, aside from being one of Equestria’s princesses, I’m also in charge of the Ponyville municipal library. There are thousands of books here, on almost any subject you can imagine. The library is open to everypony, so please feel free to stop by when you have time. The only thing I like better than reading a good book is being able to share it with my friends.”
A purple glow clouded the image for a moment as the picture zoomed in on Twilight and the stack of books.
“Ah, sorry everypony. I asked Spike if he’d operate the camera, but he said Rarity had already asked him to help her hunt for a new batch of gems. I don’t quite have the hang of this camera thing yet. Anyway, books! A library is only as good as the books—”
“I can help out with the camera!”
“Aaaugh!” Twilight’s eyes shot open wide and she gave a strangled yell, falling over backward into one of the piles of books.
Pinkie Pie trotted into frame, pausing to smile at the camera and wave one hoof.
“Pinkie! What are you—” Twilight cut off, sitting back up and levitating the books behind her back into an orderly stack. “I mean… when did you get here? I thought I was alone after Spike left for Rarity’s.”
“Of course you were alone. But it’s no fun being alone, which is why I’m here!”
Twilight blinked twice. “That… Nevermind. Okay, well, do you know how to use a video camera?”
“Nope! But I’ll bet you have a book on it!”
“I… actually don’t know if I do. I’ve got a book on making video diaries that’s been a lot of help: 101 Tips to Make your Vlogs Explode. Though it never really defines what a ‘vlog’ is, and it keeps talking about making numbered lists and having dynamic titles. Other than that I really like it, but it doesn’t mention anything about how to operate a camera. Spike said he’d take care of that, but now he keeps running off whenever I tell him it’s time to make a new video.”
“So how do I use it?” Pinkie stuck her face right up to the camera lens, trying to peer inside.
“Well, I don’t know if you really… I mean, it’s got a lot of little fiddly bits. Spike has claws, so they aren’t a problem, and I’ve got unicorn magic, but I don’t know how easy it’ll be to operate with hoov—”
Pinkie moved out of frame, and a moment later the image zoomed in tight on Twilight.
“Don’t be silly, silly! They sell these things to anypony, right? So anypony’s got to be able to use them!”
The image zoomed out again, and pixellated into a slow fade to black.
“I… uh… Wait, what are you doing?”
The black re-pixellated and faded back to the scene in the library.
“Ooh, this is easy!”
Twilight’s mouth opened slowly, and her voice dropped two octaves. “Hey. Pinkie. Why. Don’t. You. Come. Over. Here. And. Help. Me. Role. Play. Some. Pony. Checking. Out. A. Book?”
“Sure, that sounds fun too!”
A moment later, Twilight began moving normally again. Pinkie bounced over to the table and took a seat across from Twilight, who lifted a hoof to her chest for a moment, took a deep breath, and then let it out slowly. “Okay. Hello, Pinkie! Thanks for stopping by the library today. Is there a book I can help you find?”
“Nope!”
Twilight sighed. “Please, Pinkie, we’re supposed to be role-playing. I want all the little colts and fillies to get some idea of how the library works.”
“But what if somepony doesn’t want a book?”
“Well, then why are they coming to the libr—!” Another deep breath. “Okay, let’s try something different. Is there something you’ve tried doing lately that you’d like to know more about?”
“I dunno, Twilight. That’s a pretty generic question.” Twilight opened her mouth to respond, but Pinkie cut her off. “I have been working on a new banana bread recipe, though, and I can’t seem to get the ratio of chocolate chips and cherries quite right. Does that count?”
“Perfect!” Twilight clapped her hooves together and stood, walking out of frame. “But I thought everypony loved your banana bread. Why are you trying out a new recipe?”
“Because that’s how you get better, silly!” Pinkie turned to grin at the camera. “Controlled experimentation. Generating and testing hypotheses. I thought you’d know that better than anypony, Twilight!”
“Yeah, but—” A series of muffled thumps sounded from off-camera. “—that’s science, not baking.”
Pinkie cocked her head to the side. “What’s the difference?”
Twilight stepped back into frame, levitating a small pile of books over to Pinkie. “Well, first of all, you need to have a procedure in place for—”
“Aren’t you supposed to tell me about the books I’m gonna check out?”
“Oh, right. Right. Okay, so this first one is Mulia Mild’s Mastering the Art of Baking.
Pinkie took the first book off the stack and began skimming through it. “I remember her. She was a really good cook!”
“The next one is by Sweet Success: Cooking by Hoof. I think somepony told me it has a lot of good ideas about mixing tastes.”
“Yup! That’s what I’ve always said about it!” Pinkie picked up the next book and gave it a cursory look.
“Oh, are you the one who told me that?”
“Probably!”
“Um. Well, the last one I hadn’t seen before. I guess maybe it’s a new arrival that Spike shelved without telling me? It’s called The Single Pony’s Guide to Cakes, Casseroles—”
“—Canapes, Croissants, and Crumpets by Lovers Knot!? I didn’t think any of those survived, what with the fire and the earthquake, and everything else that happened!”
“Yeah, that’s... Wait, the fire? And... what?”
“You didn’t hear about…? But it’s one of the biggest stories in baking! Lovers Knot was one of the most famous cooks of her time; she worked for all of the best restaurants in Canterlot at one time or another, and toward the end of her life she decided she ought to write a book about all the things she’d learned. But she died right after finishing—she was almost ninety by that point—and the publisher wound up with the only copy of her manuscript. This was back when Mrs. Cake was just a filly. Anyway, the publisher had just rejected another manuscript by a saucier named Firey Fricassee, and he got really steamed, and—”
“How do you know so much about this, Pinkie?”
“How do you not!?”
Twilight turned to look at the camera, frowning. “This isn’t really germane to proper library management, though. Maybe you can tell me about this after we finish—”
“No, Twilight, this is important! You’ve got one of the most important books of the last two hundred years sitting in your library and you don’t even know about it! Do you know what this could mean?”
Twilight bit her lip. “Okay, well, maybe we should give the little colts and fillies a break, and then we can come back to learning about libraries in a few minutes…”
The image swung around, whitening as the sun crossed it and re-resolving on Applejack. She stood in front of the empty, crimson-leaved trees of Sweet Apple Acres.
“Why shouldn’t I do what I want?” Twilight’s voice was sweetly cheerful.
“I didn’t mean it like that, Twi. Just, we finished the harvest a fortnight back. There ain’t much goin’ on around the farm these days.”
“Well, that’s perfect! Then you aren’t busy, and we can talk for a while!”
Twilight trotted out from behind the camera, coming to a stop beside Applejack and turning. “Hello, everypony, and welcome back to my ongoing video series, ‘Twilight Sparkle Investigates’! Today we’re going to learn about agriculture.”
“I thought you told me you wanted to talk about farming.”
“Farming is a type of agriculture, Applejack.”
“I know that, Sugarcube. But if you wanna talk about agriculture, Big Mac is your pony. He’s the one with the fancy degree. I just know farming.”
Twilight huffed. “Fine, farming. What’s the difference, anyway?”
“Well, there ain’t a whole lot, I admit. But agriculture’s about the science, so I reckon it makes sense you might want to know more about that. Also, farming just has to do with raisin’ our apples, at least how I understand it. Big Mac had to learn about all sorts of other things too, like taking care of animals. That’s called husbandry.”
“I know what husba—”
“I help out with them, but he knows a lot more about dealin’ with cows and pigs than I do. And they taught him the business side of things, too. He says I’ve got a good head for that stuff, and I reckon I do, but he’s always been the one with the talent for numbers.”
Twilight paused, casting a quick glance at the camera. “I… uh… didn’t realize there were so many different…” She bit her lip. “Can you tell the little colts and fillies any more about the business side of things? If you’re good at that… well, what exactly is it that you’re good at?”
“I’m pretty good at sellin’ stuff, for one. Also, ‘product positioning’—which Big Mac says is fancy pony speak for figurin’ out who wants to buy a product and what’s gonna make ‘em more likely to buy it.”
“Isn’t that just marketing?”
“I dunno. That’s what I thought, too, but Big Mac says marketing’s bigger than that. Kinda like agriculture’s bigger than just farming. Which is what I know about, and like I said, if you really wanna know about agriculture, you should be talkin’ to my brother.”
“Yeah, sorry. I guess maybe I didn’t realize how much you and he really did, and I just assumed… well…” Twilight blushed and stared at the ground.
“Ain’t no shame in that, Sugarcube. Plenty of ponies just assume. But now you know better. So, which is it gonna be?”
“Huh?”
“Farming or agriculture? ‘Cause like I said—”
“Oh, farming. Farming’s fine, and you’re the one I wanted to talk to, anyway, since…” Twilight’s voice trailed off.
Applejack frowned at Twilight when she didn’t continue. “Since?”
“Since… um, nevermind. Anyway, what can you tell the colts and fillies about farming?”
“That’s a pretty big question, Twi.”
“Yeah, I guess… okay, so how about, how does the whole harvest cycle work? That’s probably a good place to start.”
Applejack turned to look at the apple-bare apple trees and sighed. “This is why I figure you would have liked doin’ this better a couple weeks back. Ain’t much I can show, now that we’re done harvesting. But I guess that means we’re right back at the beginning of the cycle. Okay, so.” She took a deep breath, turned back toward the camera, and smiled. “So right now we’ve got trees losin’ their leaves for the winter. That’s cause it takes them a lot of energy to make those leaves, and winter ain’t a great time for leaves, what with all the snow and ice, and the sub-zero temperatures. You see, leaves are how plants get their food, and cold is pretty hard on ‘em. So trees… well, I reckon it’s kinda like they hibernate for the winter, just like all those critters Fluttershy takes care of.”
“Is that really important for farming?”
“Well, not so much,” Applejack said. “But I figure if you’re gonna understand how apples work, you gotta understand something about apple trees. And that starts with understanding how trees eat, and why they lose their leaves. So after the cold’s gone, the trees wake up and they’re hungry, so they grow a bunch of new leaves, and that’s how they feed themselves. But eatin’ ain’t the only think an organism has to do, right? They also gotta reproduce. Same as ponies.”
Twilight blushed and her feathers fluffed up, but Applejack didn’t appear to notice.
“With ponies, reproduction’s easy. You just put a mare and a stallion together, and—”
“Applejack!” Twilight’s cheeks were bright crimson.
“What is it, Sugarcube?”
“Th-these are videos for children! You c-can’t go talking about…”
“You don’t think they already know?”
“Of course not!”
Applejack chuckled. “Okay then, Sugarcube. In my experience, most little fillies are pretty curious and I figure colts are probably the same, but maybe you unicorns are a bit more—”
“Stop it! Just ‘cause she l-likes you doesn’t m-mean it’s okay for you to… to…”
The scene fell silent, as Applejack stared at Twilight with wide eyes and Twilight looked everywhere except at Applejack.
“Sugarcube? I think maybe we’ve been talkin’ about different things. Is that so?”
Twilight grunted.
“Do you…” Applejack’s mouth tightened. “Do you, um, wanna keep talkin’ about farming? Or do you wanna talk about… some other stuff?”
Twilight turned to look at the camera. Her eyes glistened. “Let’s keep talking about farming. And then maybe… Um, maybe afterward we can talk about…” Her voice trailed off and she stared up at the clouds.
Applejack coughed, looking uncomfortable. “Okay. Well. Where was I? Oh, yeah, repro…” She glanced over at Twilight and noticed her begin to blush again. “Anyway, so, if you wanna get more trees, they grow up from seeds, right? And those seeds, they come from apples. That’s what apples are: they’re how trees… make more of themselves. And they taste good because that way, animals will come eat the seeds and, well, spread ‘em around better, with extra fertilizer to help the seeds grow. So that’s why we get apples.”
Again, the scene fell silent. Twilight stared down at her hooves.
“So, uh, Sugarcube. You got any other questions?”
Twilight jumped a little, as if surprised she’d been spoken to. “Oh. Let’s see. You said the harvest is done, right? So how does that work?”
Applejack smiled. “Sure, yeah. So the trees, well, they want the animals to eat their apples, right? But they also need to sleep for the winter, and it takes a lot of energy to make apples—a good sight more than it takes to buck ‘em, I’ll bet. So the trees can’t keep makin’ em after they go to sleep, and what kind of sense would that make, anyway? If all the animals they want to eat them apples are hibernatin’ or movin’ on to greener pastures, it don’t make no sense to keep repro… I mean makin’ apples. So I figure the trees just learned a long time ago when the best time to stop makin’ apples was, and that’s when the apples get to be the sweetest. Critters will eat ‘em any time, pretty much, but they’re pretty sour until the fall. And when they’ve been on the tree too long, they start gettin’ rotten, too. But it’s pretty easy to tell when they’re good to harvest. They turn red. Or at least the regular ones do. Zap apples are a whole ‘nother can of worms. Anyway, that’s what I think. I don’t know if Big Mac knows any different, but that’s how I always figured trees had to work. They’re smarter than ponies give ‘em credit for.”
More silence.
“Um, Twi?”
Twilight blinked. “Yeah?”
Applejack sighed. “You really don’t care about the farming, do you?”
Twilight turned back toward the camera and bit her lip nervously.
The room was dark, except for a small stand lamp illuminating two red velvet cushions and a large, dark screen. Twilight stepped into the room, her hooves moving leadenly. Behind her, Celestia followed.
“What is it you wanted to show me, Twilight?”
Biting her lip, Twilight turned back toward Celestia. “Do you remember when you told me I should try to engage with the Ponyville ponies more, Princess?”
Celestia nodded. “It is part of your duty as a princess now. By mastering the magic of friendship, you have proven—” She cut off at a nervous giggle from Twilight.
“Well, I decided to try making educational videos for the little colts and fillies. I thought maybe that would be a good way to follow your instructions.”
“They’re not instructions, Twilight. You’re a princess now. All I can do is offer friendly advice. And that sounds like a wonderful idea.” Celestia settled herself on one of the red cushions. After a moment of hesitation, Twilight took the other and used her magic to turn off the lamp, leaving the room dark except for the blue-gray of the evening sky creeping through two high windows on either side of the screen.
“Sorry, Prin— I mean… Thank you, Celestia. It seemed like it made a lot of sense. Get to know the children of Ponyville better, and maybe that would help me with their parents. And if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s lecturing!”
Celestia snorted and raised a hoof to her mouth to cover her expression. “I suppose that’s one way to put it, yes.”
Twilight’s horn glowed purple and the screen before the two princesses flashed to life. It showed a still image of the Golden Oak Library, with the dark blue of early night showing through the windows. Paradoxically, the library interior was very well lit. A white triangle flashed in the corner of the screen, and then the image sprang into motion. The picture tilted violently and righted itself, then another Twilight stepped into the frame, smiling out at the two princesses.
“Sorry, um, volume.” A stack of blocks climbed up the right side of the screen, and the image of Twilight began to talk. Then Twilight stepped off camera and returned a moment later with a box full of beer bottles.
Celestia frowned. “Please tell me you didn’t decide to teach children about beer, Twilight.”
“No! Of course not! I mean… Maybe I thought about it, but… No. Anyway, um, would you please watch, Princess?”
Celestia stilled her expression and nodded, turning back to the screen.
The first video played in its entirety, then the image cut to black.
Celestia turned to Twilight, concern in her eyes. “Have you told Rainbow how you—”
Raising a hoof to her mouth, Twilight shushed her and pointed back to the screen.
Colors flashed, and a second video played out. Then a third. Then a fourth. When that one ended, Twilight’s horn glowed again and two white bars began to blink on the screen.
Celestia bowed her head. “This must have been very hard for you, my fai—” She gave a bitter little laugh. “How easy it is for us to fall back into our old roles. Twilight. All right, I’ve seen your videos. However, I’m still not sure what you’d like from me. This is not a situation I can remedy for you, and I wouldn’t do so even if it were in my power. These feelings, and how to deal with them, is something each pony must discover for herself.”
“I— I understand that, Celestia.” Twilight’s voice cracked as she spoke. “And I didn’t publish that last video. Nopony has seen it yet. Except for you.”
“Do you mean to say you did publish the ones with Rainbow and Pinkie?”
“Well… yeah. That was kind of the point. And everypony wanted to know what I’d been working on.”
Celestia was silent for a minute. “All right. It sounds like you’ve spent a lot of time thinking about these videos and this… situation. But what is it you want from me?”
Twilight closed her eyes. “Direction, I think. I’m not really sure. Maybe some help… understanding.”
“Understanding what?”
“There’s… um… there’s one more video.” Twilight’s cheeks turned a deep crimson.
“Oh. And did you—”
“Yeah, I published it last night.” Twilight’s voice cracked again. “I must have been mad. I don’t know what I was thinking. I took it down once I came back to my senses, but I know about a half-dozen ponies saw it before I did.”
“And what was in this video?”
Twilight made hollow sound, halfway between a laugh and a croak. The twin bars on the screen were replaced with a white triangle.
The image blinked on, revealing the interior of Golden Oak Library once again.
“Twilight, I don’t think you’ve thought this through very well.”
“Be quiet, Spike!”
“I’m just saying.”
“And I heard you the first time. And the second. And the twenty-seventh. I don’t think I need to hear it twenty-eight times, do you?”
“I think you probably do, since you still aren’t listening.”
“Just operate the camera, okay?”
The microphone picked up a few muttered words, none of them intelligible. The camera panned to the side, revealing Twilight and a large chalkboard bearing a sketch of Big Macintosh.
“Today little fillies, we’re going to learn about colts! And then Applejack’s brother is going to stop by, and we’re going to see if we can learn even more about them.” Twilight’s horn sparked, and a long wooden dowel tapped the blackboard near Big Mac’s cutie mark. “Now the first thing you need to know about colts is that they like mares, and mares like them. Applejack’s brother, for example, is a big, strapping stallion. Exactly the kind that my mothe— that some ponies like to write about in their stories. And if there’s one thing I know about stallions, it’s that if the right one comes along, a mare gets—”
Spike’s voice came from out of frame. “No, I can’t do this.”
There was a moment of rustling, and then the image flickered. Now Twilight stood on the opposite side of the chalkboard. She gave a little laugh.
“Sorry about that, girls. I had to send my faithful assistant to bed for the night. You know how boys can be, sometimes. Now, where were we?” Twilight tapped a hoof against her lips. “Oh, yes! Stallions, and what mares think about them.”
The dowel tapped against the chalkboard again. “So what do you think, little fillies? Does Big Mac look handsome to you? I’ll bet he does. And for a flighty little filly like Rainbow Dash, I’ll bet he’s like a big juicy tomato she just can’t wait to eat. Or maybe an apple.” She giggled. “Yeah, an apple. ‘Cause she likes apples.”
“Well you can’t have all the apples, girls. And when Rainbow finds out I’ve got an apple of my own, and a big, handsome one just like my— Well, I’ll bet she’ll decide maybe apples aren’t so special after all, and maybe I am, since I can get them too.”
The sound of a hoof knocking against wood echoed through the room, and Twilight grinned. A thin purple haze covered the image and, as Twilight trotted across the library’s interior, the camera turned to follow her. She pulled open the door, revealing Big Macintosh with the spine of a book gripped between his teeth.
Twilight turned toward the camera and winked. “This is wonderful! Look, everypony, Applejack’s brother is here to join us for today’s episode. Isn’t that right, Big Mac?”
Macintosh turned toward the camera and shifted uncomfortably. He tried to respond, but the book in his mouth muffled the word he said.
“Come in, please, Big Mac!” Twilight turned and continued to trot around the camera, which panned to follow her all the way to a lavender sofa. She took a seat and patted the spot beside her. “I’ve really looked forward to talking with you. Applejack says you know all about agriculture. It’d be great if you could help me with my videos.”
After a moment, Macintosh walked back into frame, dropping his book on a short table in front of the sofa. He stared at the cushion beside Twilight before gingerly easing himself onto it. Twilight scooted closer and motioned for Macintosh to do the same. His cheeks reddened, but he took another look at the camera and complied.
“So, let’s talk about agriculture.” Twilight laid her hoof alongside Macintosh’s and smiled up at him. “I hear the animals on Sweet Apple Acres are mostly your responsibility?”
“Eeyup.” Macintosh glanced down at the book he’d brought with him. “In fact, I brought you a book about it, er, Your Highness.”
Twilight leaned down to read the cover, placing her horn very close to Macintosh’s muzzle. “A Beginner’s Guide to Animal Husbandry. What a funny word. Husbandry. What does it mean?”
Macintosh coughed. “Er, it means lookin’ after something, Your Highness. Takin’ care of it.”
“And that’s what you’re good at, what you studied at Vanhoover College?” Twilight giggled. “Taking care of things?”
“Eeyup.” Again, Macintosh’s cheeks turned red.
“Is there anything you take care of other than farm animals, Big Mac? Or anything you’d like to take care of?” Twilight’s eyelids fluttered as she looked up at him.
Macintosh swallowed heavily, turning away. “Nope.”
“Not even a little?”
The stallion didn’t respond.
“What was it like, going to Vanhoover College? Were there a lot of mares there?”
Macintosh tried to scoot away from Twilight, but she pursued him across the couch. “Beggin’ your pardon, Your Highness, but I thought you wanted to talk about agriculture.”
“Oh, we have lots of time to do that. First, I want to talk about you.” Twilight rubbed her hoof up and down Macintosh’s cannon. “What do you like in mares, Big Mac?”
“Uhhh…” The stallion slowly turned to stare at Twilight, uncertainty in his eyes.
“Do you—” Twilight bowed her head demurely. “Do you like me Big Mac?”
The room was still, and then Macintosh gave a slow nod.
Twilight’s smile was a beacon of light. “Would you like to kiss me?”
“Eeyu—” Macintosh swallowed again. “I mean, yes Your Highness.”
She leaned forward, and her voice was the quiet rustle of satin. “Well then, why don’t you?”
Macintosh dipped his head toward her and pressed his lips against hers.
For a moment, Twilight leaned into the kiss and appeared to enjoy it. But as Macintosh lingered, Twilight’s smile fled and her eyes widened. She backed away across the couch, scrubbing at her lips with one hoof.
Macintosh blinked in confusion. “Your Highness? Did I do somethin’ wrong?”
Twilight wasn’t listening. “Ew! Eww! Why did I think I’d like to…” She froze, staring at Macintosh and then back at the camera. “Colts! Who likes colts? What was my mother thinking!?”
“Well it ain’t like I got all the experience of some stallions,” Macintosh muttered. “But you don’t have to sound so… disgusted.” His head swung back and forth, and he stood. “Eeyup, my sister was right. This was just one bad idea.”
Twilight’s stared down at the hoof she’d scrubbed across her lips, then up at Macintosh. “Wait, Big Mac, I didn’t mean—”
“Yeah, you did. I should have listened to my sister. Some mares got no interest in stallions, and that’s just how it is.” He turned away from Twilight and began walking toward the edge of the image. “You have a nice night. Your Highness.” The sound of his hoofbeats and the slam of the library door followed him off-screen.
The book Macintosh had brought, A Beginner’s Guide to Animal Husbandry, sat on the table discarded and forgotten. Twilight stared at the book for a moment. Then she looked up at the camera, and then the image blinked off.
The screen went black, and both princesses sat silently in the gathering dark. A minute passed, and then another.
“I didn’t realize your mother wrote those sorts of books.”
Twilight tried to respond, but her voice came out as a croak. “I only found out last year. I knew she wrote books, but I never knew what kind of books.”
“You didn’t wonder?”
“Well, she made them sound so boring. Probably to make sure Shining and I wouldn’t ask too many questions about them.”
The quiet resumed, and Twilight stared at her hooves.
“Would I know any of her work?” Celestia asked.
Twilight turned toward Celestia, blushing and wide-eyed.
The older princess smiled. “I’ve always liked the bridle-tearers best.”
“That’s… That’s what she writes, mostly. Do you know the ‘Herd of the High Veldt‘ series?”
“Ooh, the ones about the prehistoric ponies, and the blue-eyed pegasus? I love those! They’re very evocative—if not especially accurate.”
Twilight’s eyes widened further. “Do you mean… were you actually around when—”
“Twilight Sparkle! Don’t you know it’s not polite to ask a mare her age?”
Stiffening, Twilight tried to croak out a response, but the words wouldn’t form. Her eyes shone with panic.
Celestia smiled and laughed. “Oh, Twilight. It’s been too long since we’ve just sat together and talked. I wish it hadn’t taken something like this to bring you back to me, though.”
Twilight’s mouth worked soundlessly, and then something seemed to change inside her. The stiffness melted away, and she slumped down on her cushion, as if somepony had set a heavy harness on her shoulders. “What am I going to do,” she wailed. “Spike’s mad at me, and Applejack’s probably mad at me, and Rainbow probably hates me, and Big Mac thinks—”
Celestia pressed a hoof to Twilight’s lips. The she scooted closer and unfurled a wing, wrapping it around her former student. “No one hates you, Twilight. You’re their friend. That doesn’t change just because you make a few bad choices.”
“But what about the ponies who saw the video? What if I go back and everypony knows all about… all about…”
“All about the fact that you don’t like colts?”
Twilight nodded weakly.
“And that bothers you?”
“I always thought mares were supposed to like stallions. I know Rainbow’s a bit different, but… but she’s Rainbow. I just figured she did whatever she wanted ‘cause she could, and…”
“And Applejack?”
“I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t think about it.”
Celestia paused, rubbing Twilight’s back with her wing. “That doesn’t sound like the Twilight Sparkle I know.”
Twilight sniffled. “I guess… I guess I thought, ‘Oh, that’s fine for other ponies. It’s weird, but I won’t judge them.’”
“But you knew you felt this way about Rainbow Dash yourself, didn’t you?”
There was a pause before Twilight spoke. “I did. But I sort of figured, it’s just Rainbow. It’s how she is. She’s… she’s almost like a stallion. Isn’t she? I mean… I don’t know. I guess I always though I was normal.”
“So it’s not normal, for mares to like other mares?”
“Of course it’s not! Mares are supposed to like stallions! Otherwise, pony society would just die off, right?”
Celestia hummed to herself. “So you’re telling me there’s something wrong with you. And probably with Applejack, and Rainbow, and my sister Luna.”
“Yes! I mean, no. I mean… Luna?”
“You didn’t know? Well, I suppose she had gotten rather good at disguising her feelings, before Nightmare Moon…” Celestia shivered. “Yes, Twilight. Luna likes mares.”
Twilight sniffled again. “That still doesn’t mean it’s not wrong.”
“Obstinate as ever, aren’t you?” Celestia gave a little laugh. “I don’t suppose it would mean much if I just told you outright that it was fine for mares to like other mares—and stallions to like stallions—would it?”
It took a moment for Twilight to respond. “No, it wouldn’t. You know I trust you more than anypony, Princess. But it just feels wrong. And… and even if Rainbow Dash did like me back, I think I’d still feel like it were wrong.”
The room fell quiet once more. A minute passed, and again it was Celestia who broke the silence. “I think I have another suggestion for you, Princess Twilight Sparkle.”
Twilight scrubbed a hoof across her eyes. “What is it?”
“I think you should stop making these videos for the colts and fillies of Ponyville.”
Twilight nodded. “It wasn’t a very good idea, anyway.”
“No, Twilight, it was a wonderful idea.”
“But then why do you want me to stop making the videos?”
Celestia smiled down at Twilight. “I never said you should stop making them. I said you should stop making them for the children of Ponyville.”
“Then what—”
Celestia yawned and stretched. “I do get tired, once the sun has set. The night has always been my sister’s domain.” She rose to her hooves, and Twilight sighed as Celestia’s wing left her shoulders. “It was always hard making myself handle the moon as well as the sun.”
“But you did it for a thousand—”
“The last few years before my sister returned weren’t so bad, though. I had a student who sent me the most wonderful letters. I always looked forward to reading them in the evenings. They kept me company, when I needed it most.”
