> Me and My Daughters
>  by ArcaneDust
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Startling Mornings 
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun gleamed through the castle’s windows, its shining light revealing the half-awake Princess Celestia laying over the bed, bedsheets covering her entire body.

As the golden glow faded from her horn, the solar alicorn lifted the sheets from her body with a hoof. Rising from her bed slowly, Celestia mentally prepared herself for the long line of duties that she had for the day.

Sometimes I wish that the night would last longer, Celestia thought, walking towards her room’s bathroom. She turned the lights on with her magic. Maybe I’ll convince Luna to make the night a little longer; that would cheer her up a little, she thought, looking herself over in the mirror, noticing the lack of her usual bed-mane that most ponies had in the mornings.

Celestia sighed softly, reminding herself of the duties that she had for the day. “Those little perks of being royalty,” she muttered under her breath, turning on the water for her tub. As she waited for the water to warm up, she thought about the events of the past weeks.

Her former student and her sister had spent a lot of time together the last couple of weeks, partly because of their renewed friendship, and also because Luna was teaching Twilight how to use her newly discovered Alicorn magic.

“Something that I should be doing,” Celestia mumbled, traces of jealousy present in her voice. She wasn’t mad at Luna because she was tutoring Twilight, but she was still a little sad. Celestia had been Twilight’s teacher for so long; letting someone else teach her felt odd, to say the least.

“I guess we all have to grow up someday,” she thought aloud, stepping into the lukewarm water of her tub. Celestia laid there for a few minutes, just thinking, as the warm steam of the water misted the bathroom’s mirrors.

We all have to grow up someday… she thought once again, her eyes closed in deep meditation. Celestia had taught a lot of ponies through the years, each one of them leaving a mark in the monarch’s heart. Yes, she had had many students, but none of them were like Twilight. Celestia had raised Twilight since she was a little filly, when her eyes sparkled with curiosity and innocence, and she had grown much more than anyone else.

Thinking about her moments with Twilight always brought a smile to Celestia’s face. She had acted as a surrogate mother towards Twilight, who in turn brightened her days in the last agonizing years of Luna’s banishment.

Reflecting on that as well, Twilight had always reminded her of Luna. They were so alike: they both sought approbation from others, and they were quite reserved in their relationships. Yes,  they shared a lot of qualities. Celestia flashed a small smile; they had even shared the same caregiver.

Celestia chuckled a little, remembering simpler times, long before the responsibility of running a kingdom fell upon their hooves. At the time, the raising of the sun and the moon still depended on the ancient ponies of Unicornia. She and Luna were still children, growing under the watchful eye of their teacher, the great Starswirl the Bearded. Celestia had raised Luna when she was still a teenager, and they had shared many beautiful moments as they grew up.

Luna had been a very hyperactive filly; more than once, Starswirl had to punish her for being so troublesome. Always playing, always laughing, and always smiling, Luna had always brightened their lives, even in moments of strife, like when their teacher had died. That was partly the reason why she represented the Element of Laughter: she always faced her troubles with a smile. Always… until she came.

Nightmare Moon, the evil that managed something that not even hundreds of years on the Equestrian throne managed to, had broken her. If only Celestia had been more helpful, she could have avoided Luna’s twisted fate— a thousand years trapped in the moon, with no company besides that demon that festered upon her sadness. That once bright and cheerful smile had changed into a scarred, forever-suspicious frown. Celestia would give everything to see that innocent smile one more time.

She exhaled deeply, opening her eyes slowly. Rising from the now cold water, Celestia picked up a towel with her magic, drying the water from her body. Time heals all wounds, after all, Celestia thought, as she left the wet towel in the bathroom’s sink, and so time will heal Luna. Time, and a lot of help— and she, as Luna’s sister, would provide as much help as she could along the way.

Celestia exited the bathroom, looking for her golden regalia. When she heard giggling down the hallway, she raised her brow in confusion. “Hmm, the castle visitors usually arrive later, so who is that?” the alicorn wondered, approaching the door to listen to the voices.

“Do you think she’s awake already?” a voice, probably that of a filly, asked.

“Of course she is. She has to raise the sun, after all,” a second, slightly more mature-sounding voice replied.

They are talking about me, then, Celestia thought, a confused expression in her face. “A guard’s daughters perhaps? I wasn’t aware that today was Bring Your Daughter to Work Day,” Celestia said, lighting her magic to open her chamber’s doors. She always liked seeing the sparkling look in foals’ eyes when they saw her. Some of them were plain ado…ra— 

“Good morning, Mom!” The couple of fillies standing outside Celestia’s room greeted her happily, excitement present in their violet and blue eyes. Meanwhile, the mare they just called ‘Mom’ widened her own eyes in complete shock.

“Bu— Wha— Luna? T-Twilight?” Celestia stammered, her mask of composure disappearing completely.

The two little alicorns nodded excitedly, Twilight answering first. “Uh-huh, we woke up early, see? Luna didn’t want to get up and I had to drag her to the bathroom!” Twilight explained cheerfully, as Luna frowned at the lavender filly’s accusations.

“Did NOT! I wasn’t asleep, I just wanted you to carry me,” Luna replied, pawing the ground softly with her hoof.

Twilight shrugged off the explanation as she looked up towards her ‘mother’ with hopeful eyes.

“Mooom, you said that as soon as we were ready, we would leave for Sunset’s. We’re ready, so can we go now?” Twilight asked, staring intensely at Celestia with big, puppy-dog eyes, Luna imitating her motions.

Princess Celestia breathed heavily, her gaze traveling from one filly to the other. Was this some kind of prank? No, this was too far-fetched to be one of Luna’s mostly harmless pranks. Had Twilight messed up an age spell? Celestia backed away from the little alicorns, shaking her head in negation. 

Luna, noticing Celestia’s distress, walked towards her. “Mom… A-Are you alright? You look a little pale,” she said with worry.

Celestia shook her head in confusion once more, before sitting down in her bed, raising her head a little to look at her new ‘daughters.’ “I-I’m alright, Luna… just a little confused, that’s all,” she said, glad that she could keep her voice steady during the exchange.

Luna cocked her head, puzzled. “Confused? Why’s that, Mom?” she asked. Celestia shivered at the word ‘mom.’

“There are just some odd things about this morning,” the ivory mare responded, before Twilight walked towards her and jumped, fluttering her little wings into the bed.

“Can we help you with something?” Twilight asked, approaching Celestia and looking up at her with worried eyes.

Celestia fought the urge to hug Twilight with her wing as she thought of her answer. “Well… yes, Twilight, you can help me with something. Could you please tell me what we did last night?” she asked, hoping that Twilight’s answer would help her figure out what was happening here.

The lavender filly thought for a second, before Luna answered for her. “We did what we always do,” she answered, walking to Celestia’s nightstand, where she picked up an old-looking book with her magic. “We had dinner, you tucked us into bed, then you read us a story and we went to sleep,” she said, showing the book to her ‘mother.’ Celestia picked it up with her own golden telekinesis.

Celestia read the title out loud. “Myths and Legends of Equestria, by Clover the Clever.” She then looked closely at her nightstand, noticing a couple of things that were definitely out of the ordinary. The first was a little mug made out of clay that spelled the word ‘mom’ with macaroni. The second was a picture of her with a younger Sunset Shimmer, standing in front of the castle gardens. The last thing was another suspicious picture, this one of her with a younger Cadance, smiling; the only thing odd about this picture was her abnormally round stomach.

Celestia put the picture frame back on the nightstand, dizziness attempting to overtake her. She breathed heavily a couple of times before assessing the situation. Okay, so… I’m a mother, Twilight and Luna are my daughters, and my faithful student is Sunset Shimmer once again…  She tried to regain her composure before exhaling one last time and fainting over her bed. The last thing she heard before falling unconscious was the frightened shouting of her ‘daughters.’

“Moooooom!”


   
> Startling Discoveries 
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Celestia’s mind was in complete turmoil. The morning had started like any other—she had woken up, taken a shower, and put on her regalia, just like her usual routine—but she hadn’t noticed that she had woken up as a MOTHER! A mother, of all things! Celestia had held numerous titles over the years—Princess, Teacher, and even Warrior—but never, in her many years of life, had she been a mother.

She still couldn’t figure out what in Faust’s name had happened. Celestia thought back to the night before. She’d lowered the sun, had dinner with Luna, and then gone to sleep— nothing out of the ordinary! Yet somehow, she had woken up with two little fillies who called her 'mom.’

Celestia sighed deeply, remembering the worried looks on Twilight’s and Luna’s faces before she passed out; they surely were still worried. What a mother I am, leaving those little troublemakers without supervision... She chuckled at her own thoughts before realizing exactly what she had thought. Wait, I’m not their mother! Whatever spell is going on here is messing with my thoughts. I need to keep it together!

She needed to figure out what exactly had happened first. The spell had affected reality, which meant that everyone else should have had a new set of memories, thus affecting their minds. Celestia gasped in realization; she only knew one type of magic powerful enough to alter ponies’ thoughts at mass scale.

“Discord!” she exclaimed. As she planned how to find the elusive draconequus, she was interrupted by a loud popping sound, and a bright light signaling a teleportation. After the light died out, she could clearly see the aforementioned Spirit of Chaos sitting daintily on a pink cotton candy cloud.

“Did you call, dear Celestia?” Discord asked, floating over the distressed princess, who was calming herself to avoid doing something regrettable. “Oh, did I do Something wrong?” he asked, oblivious to Celestia’s predicament.

“Discord! I know what you did! You’ll have to turn Twilight and Luna back immediately!” The monarch growled as she stood up from her bed, glaring directly at Discord’s eyes.

“But my dearest Princess, I don’t even know what you are talking about. I didn’t do anything to Twilight, much less to Luna,” he explained, dispelling the cloud with a snap of his fingers, before finding himself against a wall with Celestia’s horn pointing threateningly at him.

“Discord, I do not appreciate being toyed with, Now tell me what you did,” Celestia growled, as Discord laughed nervously, escaping from his compromising position floating above the distressed Princess.

“Celestia, I was with Fluttershy all day long, I couldn’t have done anything,” he explained, as Celestia frowned again.

“Prove It!” 

Discord sighed exasperatedly; this was becoming more and more boring for him. “Fine. Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye…” he said, conjuring a cupcake with his magic before slamming it into his eye. “Is that enough for you?” 

Celestia sighed as her magic died out. She knew, according to Twilight’s old friendship reports, that a ‘Pinkie Promise’ was certainly unbreakable, which meant that Discord couldn’t be lying about this. “Well, if you didn’t do anything, who did?” she asked, sitting on her bed again.

“That’s for you to find out,” the draconequus replied, smiling smugly at Celestia’s confused frown.

“What do you mean?” Celestia asked with disdain, watching Discord as he conjured a monocle and a fake moustache.

“Well dear, I might have some idea about who could have done this,” he said, floating towards Celestia and caressing her cheek with his paw, “but it’s funnier if you figure it out by yourself.”

“Discord! It’s not funny— tell me everything you know!” Celestia yelled, pushing Discord away from her.

Discord thought for a second before making a green-striped shirt appear on his barrel. “You want a clue?” he asked, summoning a poorly drawn, blue dog. “Shall we give a clue to mean Celestia, Blue?” Discord questioned the mismatched dog, who barked nonsense in response, while the aforementioned princess raised an eyebrow at the exchange.

“Blue doesn’t like you,” Discord stated, snapping his talon, making the dog and his shirt disappear, “but since I’m such a nice guy, y’know, I’m going to give you a teensy little clue,” he said. Approaching Celestia’s ear ever so slightly, he whispered a single word to her.

“Nostalgia.” 

“That doesn’t even makes sense!” Celestia yelled, as Discord floated towards the door.

“Oh, cheer up, ‘Tia. You’ll have plenty of time to solve this with your ‘student,’ and I’m sure Sunset will be extremely happy that you decided to pay her a visit,” Discord said, watching as Celestia fired a beam of golden magic with her horn. Wasting no time, he opened the door of the room and escaped hastily before the beam of celestial magic impacted with his tail.

“DISCORD!!”  Celestia yelled, before Discord closed the doors behind him.   





Just outside the door to the castle’s infirmary, two little alicorn fillies waited for their mother, troubled thoughts clouding their minds, and tear stains matting their fur. 

Suddenly, the infirmary door opened, and a yellow-coated unicorn stallion stepped out of the examination room to find the two worried young princesses waiting for him.

“Is she going to be alright?”

“She’s not dead, is she?”

“Twilight! Why would you ask something like that?” Luna exclaimed, frowning at her sister, who leaned closer to the doctor in fear of what her fellow alicorn might do.

“I had to!” Twilight retorted. Once again looking up to the doctor for an answer, Twilight asked, “Is my mom alright?” 

Slightly annoyed, the doctor raised his hoof and called out, “Girls!” Grabbing the fillies’ attention, he explained, “Your mother is going to be just fine. She just fainted.” Delivering a clipboard to the nearest nurse with his magic, he muttered under his breath, “Nothing interesting, I may add…” 

“But she was just talking to us when she suddenly fainted! That’s not normal! What if she has a brain tumor, or anemia, or—” 

“Princess Twilight!” the doctor shouted, his voice betraying how easily angered by the little princesses he could be. He took a deep breath; he had to wait until lunch to blow off some steam. He couldn’t just yell at Celestia’s daughters like that and come out of it alive. Luckily for him, his partner decided to intervene before he did something he might regret.

“Umm, Doctor, may I?” a female, white-coated pegasus asked, approaching the children.

“Sure, Doctor Cameron. They’re all yours— I’ll be with Wilson if you need me,” the stallion grumbled, walking towards the exit.

“Okay, Doctor Horse!” she called. Turning to the expectant fillies, she said, “Now, what Doctor Horse meant to say, is that your mother is going to be just fine. She just needs to rest for a little while.” Doctor Cameron smiled sweetly as the fillies exhaled in relief. 

The midnight blue alicorn tugged at the doctor’s gown. “Can we go and see her?” Princess Luna asked with big, puppy-dog eyes. The defenseless doctor was about to deny the request, until the filly’s sister joined in the merciless attack.

Doctor Cameron had to resist the urge to hug the little filly; she had to act professional, after all. “I don’t see why not, if she’s already awake,” she said, walking alongside the fillies to Celestia’s room. Suddenly, an angry yell shook the walls of the castle, startling both fillies and the doctor.

“DISCORD!!” 

“Umm, I think she’s awake,” Twilight said, hiding behind her sister, who in turn was hiding behind Doctor’s Cameron hind legs. “And Uncle Discord is with her.”

The cowering filly was proven correct, as a disturbed draconequus burst through the doors and slammed them shut behind him. Panting, he then looked at the couple of confused, slightly scared fillies and hovered beside them, ruffling their manes.

“Hello, girls. I’m afraid your mother is a little indisposed at the moment, she…” He trailed off, looking at his burned tail. “…won’t be receiving anyone for the time being.”

Twilight looked at him, a little shocked at the remark, but she managed to utter a few words. “I-Is she mad? With us?” she asked, approaching the floating draconequus.

Discord chuckled, hugging the little alicorn tightly. “Of course she’s not mad— not with you two, at least. She’s just a little under the weather,” he replied, ruffling the fillies’ manes lightly.

Twilight giggled at Discord’s antics. Sure, he was a little annoying, but her ‘uncle’ had changed a lot since he had been freed from stone. Even if he was a meanie the first time he broke out from his prison, he was good now, or so her mother said. Luna was still a little wary of him, and didn’t believe much of what he said.

“Are you sure she doesn’t want to see us?” Luna asked, watching as the draconequus cast a simple healing spell on his tail.

Discord smiled at the question. “I didn’t say anything about not wanting to see you. I think it’s okay if you two go alone and see how your mother is faring,” he responded. 

Luna beamed with excitement and pushed her sister towards the door. “See, she wants to see us!” she yelled, opening the door with her magic. “Mooom, are you there?” 

This is going to be FUN! Discord thought as he closed the doors behind the two siblings entering the room.





Inside the room, a reluctantly calmer Celestia massaged her temples with her hooves, letting the words of the Spirit of Chaos sink in, before a high-pitched voice took her out of her trance.

“Mooom, are you there?” The voice was certainly Luna’s. Celestia shivered at the words; she hadn’t heard Luna like this in a long, long time.

She sighed. Trying to run away from this was pointless, so she decided to call her ‘daughter’s’ attention. “Yes, Luna— I’m here,” she said, hearing the hoofsteps approaching.

As soon as Luna showed up on the threshold, she jumped in excitement and buzzed her little wings towards her mother, with Twilight following behind. Celestia soon found herself being hugged to death by two alicorn fillies; against such an attack, she had no choice but to hug back, old memories resurfacing in her mind.

After a few minutes, the fillies broke the embrace and sat beside their mother in the bed, looking up at her with worried and somewhat confused expressions. Celestia, deciding to break the silence, thought carefully about her next words. Unfortunately for her, little Twilight had other ideas. “We were so worried! I thought you were sick or-or…” Twilight sniffed a little and leaned into her mother’s soft fur, trying to calm herself.

Celestia couldn’t help but lean down to nuzzle Twilight affectionately. Twilight looked up at her with those big, watery eyes that melted Celestia’s heart. “Oh Twilight, don’t be sad. I was a little under the weather this morning, but I’m okay now— see? Mommy is fine.” Those last words felt very strange coming off her tongue.

Twilight sniffed quietly as she rejoiced in her mother’s embrace. When Luna breathed a deep sigh, Celestia looked over at her and pulled her close with a wing. “What’s wrong Lulu?” she asked, using the nickname she had given Luna all those years ago. Luna always got mad when she used it, but Celestia hoped that in this new form, the results may be different.

“I just thought that since you’re kinda sick, we weren’t going to Ponyville anymore…” Luna trailed off, looking at her mother with big, sad eyes that Celestia simply couldn’t refuse.

“Who said that we weren’t going?” Celestia asked in a mock-angry tone, while her daughters looked at her in confusion.

“Bu-but you—” Twilight started.

“But nothing, I’m fine. Why don’t you two go and call Miss Ivory for a carriage, while I prepare some things that I have to bring,” she said, giggling as the two fillies jumped off the bed in excitement.

“Really, Mom?” Luna asked, bouncing along with her sister in glee, then shooting out of the door as soon as her mother nodded. Twilight stayed behind for a moment, walking towards Celestia and hugging her leg affectionately.

“Thanks, Mommy,” she said, before running after her sister.

Celestia laid in the bed for a moment, thinking on how would she manage the situation. Discord had said that he knew who was responsible for the spell; maybe Fluttershy could help her with the elusive draconequus in Ponyville. Fluttershy always has an effect on him— perhaps she would help me… In order to do that, though, I must first explain this crazy situation— she might not believe me. And what about Sunset? If I go and tell her that she isn’t really my student, and that she is trapped in another world, she will think that I’m just messing with her… Oh, what to do! Her thoughts were interrupted by someone entering her room, a white pegasus that she recognized as her assistant, Ivory Note.

“Your Highness, how are you feeling? Your daughters told me that you were planning to go to Ponyville. Are you sure you’re alright? The doctors could do more tests to deter—”

“Please, Ivory. I’m feeling quite alright, and I think that my daughters and I really need some time away from the castle,” Celestia explained, rising from her bed.

The pegasus nodded in understanding. “Of course, Princess. We are just worried about your well-being.”   

“I appreciate the concern, Ivory. Now if you could do me a favor, Twilight and Luna have already told you about the carriage, haven’t they?” she asked, walking alongside her assistant.

Ivory chuckled at the mention of the little princesses. “Yes, they were pretty excited about going to Ponyville. I almost crashed with them when they found me,” she said, stepping into a big, ornate hallway. “The carriage is outside, and judging by your daughters’ excitement, they’re likely already inside.”

Celestia laughed at her assistant’s remark, walking towards the door that led to the gardens. “Thank you for your help, Miss Note. Please be sure to cancel all my appointments for today,” she said, as Ivory nodded. “I’ll be back before dusk.” 

As she stepped into the golden carriage beside her daughters, Celestia’s mind was still clouded with various thoughts, most of them about Sunset Shimmer. My Student… she thought sadly. She hoped she could maintain a straight face during her visit. It had really been a while since she had last seen Sunset.

“Do you think Sunset will be surprised?” Twilight asked Luna. The midnight blue filly nodded excitedly as she approached the edge of the carriage, before being stopped by her mother’s golden magic.

She won’t be the only one… Celestia thought, sighing heavily. It was going to be a tough day.


> Startling Visit
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

After an uneventful ride in the carriage, Princess Celestia, along with little Twilight and Luna, arrived at Ponyville at noon. As the carriage descended, the trio of princesses noticed the welcoming committee that, even with the short notice of their arrival, managed to do something fitting for royalty. Not that Celestia really cared about protocol.

When the white alicorn exited the vehicle, she was received with the bursts of several trumpets, courtesy of Ponyville’s party pony, Pinkie Pie. Strangely enough, she was playing all six trumpets by herself.

“Welcome to Ponyville, Princess Celestia!” Ponyville’s mayor welcomed her enthusiastically, albeit a little nervously, extending her hoof for a formal greeting. “I see you brought the little princesses with you, what an… unexpected surprise! I’d like to apologize beforehand for the lack of preparation for your visit. We didn’t know that you were coming, and—”

“At ease, Mayor,” Celestia chuckled, raising her hoof to stop the mayor’s rambling. “I decided to visit my student to see how is she faring. My, er, little ones decided to come as well, as they missed Sunset at the castle,” she explained, calming the distressed mare slightly.  

“Oh, well… we had some things prepared for Your Highnesses, so if you could please follo—” 

“That won’t be an necessary, Mayor. I simply wanted a casual visit with my student and her friends, but I appreciate your plans nonetheless,” Celestia said with a smile, walking towards the pink mare who was waving her hoof excitedly.

“Hiya, Princess!” Pinkie greeted, stepping in front of the dumbfounded mayor. Looking down to the fillies, she said, “Hiya, little princesses, you surely have grown!” Pinkie ruffled the little alicorns’ manes as they laughed at the pink mare’s cooing.

“Pinkie!” Twilight and Luna both shouted, buzzing their little wings to hug her. Celestia felt something inside her stir at the sight of the two little alicorns smiling. Nostalgia, love, and various other feelings filled the turmoil of the princess’s heart, as times long past flashed before her eyes. 

She cleared her head of those feelings, as she walked beside Pinkie and her daughters. “So, Miss Pinkamena, it was terribly nice of you to come and welcome us, but if I may ask, how did you know we were coming? Did the mayor tell you?” Celestia asked, curious about the young mare’s antics.

Her visits, even the impromptu ones, were always notified to the authority of the city destination, standard protocol for the royal guard. Even so, there was no possible way that Pinkie had known about the visit— not even Sunset knew! So you can imagine Celestia’s surprise when Pinkie Pie responded with a mere shake of her head.

“Nope, the mayor doesn’t tell me anything, ever since that accident with the pop tarts and the cats. Anyways, I had a combo this morning: twitchy-tail, floppy-ears, itchy-nose, and flamey-hair, which means that the princesses are coming to town!” Pinkie explained happily, earning a confused frown from the Princess of the Sun, which in turn earned a few laughs from the pair of fillies, who found Pinkie’s eccentric nature amusing.

“Auntie Pinkie, you’re so random,” Luna said, before Pinkie ruffled her mane once more.

“Don’t worry your little filly head over it,” Pinkie said, waving her hoof dismissively. “Now come on, Sunset’s waiting.” 





As they arrived at Golden Oaks library, Pinkie finishing her exciting tale of the biggest ice cream ever, Princess Celestia was suffering from an unexpected memory assault. This would be the first time she had seen Sunset since her disappearance into the magic mirror. Sunset Shimmer, one of the most brilliant and sharper students in her school— unfortunately, one of the most disappointing students, too. And it was all Celestia’s fault.

If she had been more careful with Sunset’s education, if she had paid more attention to her student, if she hadn’t been so concentrated on her sister’s fate, she wouldn’t have passed over Sunset’s life.

It was true— she had been so focused on teaching Sunset every possible spell, believing that she was without a doubt the element of magic, that Celestia forgot the heart, the most important part of a living being. Sunset turned treacherous and vile, and by the time Celestia found out of her student’s doom, it was already too late.

Seeing Sunset Shimmer again was a rare, if not special occasion. How much would have she changed? As Pinkie knocked on the door, Celestia’s muscles tensed, and she silently prepared for whatever destiny planned to throw at her. 

“Coming!” a cheerful, yet muted voice called through the library door. Celestia cringed at the familiar sound. It seemed slightly different, though— more mature, more grown.

The door handle lit up in a teal-colored glow and turned slightly. When the door creaked open, the figure of a yellow-coated unicorn with red and gold stripes through her mane stood on the threshold. Both Sunset’s and Celestia’s eyes widened, the first in surprise and the latter in sheer shock; fortunately for the alicorn, the awkward moment was interrupted by two tactical cuteness missiles aimed directly at Sunset’s midsection.

“Sunny!” the couple of fillies yelled excitedly. Crashing loudly into the building, they were promptly joined by Pinkie Pie and her infectious laughter as she too jumped into the pony pile.

Taking advantage of the sudden interruption, Celestia composed herself, wiping away the few tears that managed to escape her emotional dam. Fixing herself up with a generic smile, she entered the building, lowering her head to avoid hitting the ceiling with her horn.

She shook her head upon seeing the familiar building; so many things were the same, yet so many of them were completely different. The mess of books usually found on the library’s floor was noticeably smaller, as Sunset lacked Twilight’s bookworm-like characteristics. Sunset’s design of the space also contrasted Twilight’s minimalistic use of furniture; the library now sported a couple of antique-looking sofas and a few chairs, probably for the residents of Ponyville that understood the concept of a public library.

Moving past the obvious differences, Celestia walked into the main room of the library, where she found two little fillies and a couple of mares rolling with laughter on the floor. A small smile graced the princess’s lips as she gazed upon the warm scene, remembering times long gone… when her students used to play with her like that… when she used to be a part of their lives. Celestia sighed sadly, repressing the oncoming wave of feelings attempting to overtake her. We all have to grow up someday, she thought, I only wish I’d really enjoyed every moment with them before they did.

Pulled from her thoughts by the cease of laughter, she looked down to see both Twilight and Luna panting softly, probably exhausted after a savage attack of the still untamed ‘tickle monster.’ Pinkie and Sunset straightened themselves up, the unicorn combing her mane with her hoof and the earth pony shaking herself like a dog.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Celestia gulped down her fears and decided to break the ice with a standard greeting to her student. “Hello, Sunset. I hope our presence hasn’t startled you much— the girls just wanted to pay you a visit.” Damn! Was that too cold? Too formal? Was she suspecting something? Did she—

“Oh, not at all, Princess— just surprised, that’s all. I didn’t expect these two little troublemakers to jump on me as soon as I opened the door,” Sunset explained, directing a mock glare towards the fillies, who in turn lowered their heads in shame.

“We’re sorry,” Twilight and Luna said in unison.

“Ah, I’m just messing with you girls— you know I love your visits,” Sunset said, ruffling the little princesses’ manes with her hoof.

Both fillies perked up immediately, jumping in excitement as they made their way through the library. “Careful, girls!” Celestia called to the departing fillies, while Sunset stifled a laugh.
“I don’t know how the castle can manage those two; they’re a ticking time bomb!” Sunset joked, chuckling at her own remark. Sensing that her joke wasn’t being followed, she looked up to find the Princess staring off into the distance, her eyes glistening with tears.

Concerned by her mentor’s behavior, Sunset lifted a hoof to Celestia’s chest in a soothing manner and asked, “Princess… are you alright?” Recoiling from the touch, the princess shook her head, blinking away the sadness of the moment. Gazing down at Sunset’s troubled frown, she returned an uneasy smile in reassurance.

“Y-Yes, don’t worry about me, Sunset. I was just thinking about… a sudden assault of memories,” Celestia explained, making Sunset hum in deliberation. 

Deciding against inquiring further into the Princess’s personal affairs, and noticing Pinkie’s presence in the room, the unicorn nodded softly and hugged her mentor in response, with the unsaid promise of asking about that later.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” Sunset said, still tightly holding Celestia’s barrel. She felt the Princess’s muscles tense under her touch. Afraid of doing something wrong, Sunset retreated slowly from the hug, before her back collided with Celestia’s wings wrapped around her. Realizing this, she looked up to see the Princess’s eyes closed in satisfaction, rejoicing the embrace.

The tense atmosphere now calm, the warm moment was completely perfect, until Pinkie’s perky voice interrupted the loving mood. “Aww, how sweet! Can I join?” Pinkie asked, hugging Sunset from behind.

Separating from their embrace quickly, and after an awkward cough, all three mares shared a wholehearted laugh.

Hearing a loud scream and a crash, their laugh was disrupted by the couple of fillies running downstairs, giggling madly. Turning their heads around, the mares found themselves face-to-face with Twilight’s and Luna’s eager eyes.

“Sunny! Mommy! We wanted to ask you…” Twilight started, motioning to her sister to continue.

“…if we could go and…”

“…hang out with the Cutie Mark Crusaders because we want to get our cutie marks now!” both fillies chorused at Pinkie Pie speed, their little wings buzzing with uncontained energy.

“What?!” Sunset exclaimed, managing to step out of the confusion first..

“We wanted to go with the crusaders to find our cutie marks! They invited us the last time we visited you— they named us the Regal branch of the Crusaders!” Luna explained, at a normal pace this time.

“Royal,” Twilight corrected.

“It’s the same, Twilight! Can we go?! Please?!” 

Sunset looked uneasily at the pair of hyperactive fillies, choosing her next words carefully.
“Uh, girls… you might be able to go. I mean, maybe my friends and I can organize a picnic later this afternoon— I don’t see why we couldn’t invite the crusaders,” she said, cringing at the foals’ joyful expressions. She knew that the next thing she’d say wouldn’t be as easy to swallow for them. “Nonetheless, you need to understand that crusading may not be the best way you get your cutie marks.”

“What?! Then how else are we supposed to get them?” Luna asked, hints of anger present in her question, while Twilight just stared sadly at the floor.

Celestia hated seeing the fillies’ angered and saddened expressions. Deciding to intervene, she cleared her throat, attracting her daughters’ attention.

“Girls, what Sunset is trying to say is that cutie marks appear through time and experience—in what you’re good at already—not by trying everything in your heads,” Celestia explained, trying, but failing, to soften her words.

“B-but—“ Twilight sniffed and looked up at her mother dejectedly, with a glint in her eyes that made everyone flinch at the ultimate display of cuteness. “What if they don’t? What if they never appear?!” she yelled, her wobbly voice making Sunset cringe. Cutie marks were always a sore subject to deal with when it came to children. Knowing that an explanation was due, she spoke up.

“Has your mother ever told you my cutie mark story?” Sunset asked the fillies, sitting on her haunches to be at the girls’ eye-level.

Luna and Twilight blinked at the sudden straightforward question. Looking curiously at Sunset, Luna asked, “Your cutie mark story? Yes, she has, but—”

“Actually Sunset, I think that it would be better for them to hear it from the mare herself,” Celestia said as she sat on the floor, where her daughters snuggled next to her, all of them looking at the unicorn expectantly.

“From the mare… B-but Princess, I—”

“Oh c’mon, Sunny! Tell us the story!” Pinkie interjected, using her best puppy-dog eyes on the unamused unicorn.

“Pinkie, you’ve already heard it… and do NOT call me ‘Sunny.’ The girls are the only ones who can call me that,” Sunset said, frowning at Pinkie’s mock-sad expression.

“Aww, how ‘bout ‘Shimmy’ or ‘Sunshine’ or—”

“Fine, fine, I’ll tell it,” Sunset conceded, causing Pinkie to cuddle next to the fillies and the Princess, all of them cheering with excitement.

“Let’s see… it all began twelve years ago…”   



 


“Oh Sunshine…” a male voice called mockingly. “Come on, Sun-ass, come over here!” his annoying voice called again. Sunset sighed from behind her book. She hated him; she hated when they called her names. “Hey Sunny, I’m talkin’ to you!” he yelled, his muzzle inches away from her. 

Ignore them, she thought. ‘Ignore them,’ Miss Minty always says, ‘They won’t hurt you if you ignore them, Sunset.’ She always lies. Her train of thought was interrupted by a hoof colliding with her book, making it plummet right to the ground.

Sunset recoiled from the sudden assault, before lowering her head and sighing again. Such was life at Tender-Heart orphanage— even being hit repeatedly formed part of her daily routine in that awful place. Life is just awesome being here.

As her inner monologue continued, the trio of ponies in front of her grew impatient, so she received a punch to the stomach. She fell from the pain, her eyes leaking with freshly formed tears. Gazing up, she saw the face of her tormentor sneering at her.

“Are you deaf AND useless? I said come over here!” the pegasus colt yelled, making Sunset cringe.

“W-What do you want Blizzard?” Sunset coughed, trying to rise from her spot on the ground.

Blizzard chuckled at Sunset’s weak voice. In turn, the couple of colts behind him laughed, too. “Don’t bother, I don’t need you to stand up. We’re going to see if that horn of yours is worth something,” he explained rather sweetly, given the situation.

Sunset’s eyes widened in fear. Trembling, she simply said, “My horn?”

She wanted to escape, to walk away from all the pain and sadness, but she knew she couldn’t— she was trapped here forever. She didn’t have a mother, a father, not even a brother or sister to take care of her. She was alone in this dark and painful world. Blizzard’s voice reverberating in her ears brought her back to her current situation.

“You don’t use that horn of yours, Sunny. You’re useless in magic, so why do you need it? Miss Minty said we need a new coat hanger; we thought your horn would be perfect for the job,” he said, as his friends surrounded Sunset from her sides.

The unicorn trembled, looking frantically around for someone, anyone who could save her… but to no avail. She was alone once again.

She wouldn’t give up so easily, though. She had to stand up for herself, even if it meant she had to fight. Sunset’s face took a determined frown, then she turned around and lifted her hind legs, kicking Blizzard with all her might, accompanying her kick with a fierce yell. 

The colt howled in pain, retreating from the yelling filly. He glared at her, his eyes glowing with unadulterated rage. Blizzard flared his wings as he grabbed Sunset by her neck, droplets of blood falling to her coat from his nose. “You are going down!” Blizzard shouted, as his friends grabbed the filly by her legs and midsection.

Sunset tossed and squirmed, trying to escape from the colts’ hold on her. She screamed in pain, feeling her horn being pulled from her skull. Tears matted her fur, and through her pain and torture she silently begged for someone to find her and take away the pain. She wanted a mommy, she wanted a daddy; she needed someone who loved her.

… and then she saw it.

The explosion, the colors— the ground shook as a rainbow-colored wave pulsed through the sky. Then her world turned into fire.

Power flowed through Sunset’s whole body. She opened her eyes, and she only saw white. Screams of colts and fillies alike were muted by her own crying; all she could feel was pain, pain and fire. She would’ve prefered being Blizzard’s punching bag any day instead of this agony.

Can you hear me? A soothing voice resounded inside her mind. Sunset wanted to say yes, to keep hearing the calm voice that had somehow managed to take the pain away.

I know you can. Listen to me— do you know what’s happening to you?

“No,” Sunset answered quietly, trying to follow the conversation with the strange, yet kind voice.

This is happening because you are a very special filly. You have a great future ahead of you, but first you need to be strong; you cannot let your emotions control you like that. You are meant for bigger things.

“B-Bigger things? But I’m not special. Blizzard said I’m useless, that I—”

Don’t ever say those things again. You’re not useless— not to me and not to anybody. I need you to believe this: you are a very strong and special filly. There is nothing in this world that you can’t do.

“I’m scared, I’m alone,” Sunset cried, hoping that the voice wouldn’t abandon her either.

Don’t be— I will always be with you. Now come, follow me.

A soothing warmth surrounded Sunset from the tip of her horn to the edge of her hooves, replacing the fiery agony. In an instant, all the pain, anger, and sadness vanished from her mind. She soared, floating in the comforting glow, and just as soon as it had started, the warmth subsided, and her senses slowly returned.

Sunset first felt soft fur wrapping around her, then she heard a quiet and gentle voice, soothing her like a foal’s lullaby. She cautiously opened her eyes and saw a large, white figure, with a few burnt patches in its coat. Sunset wiggled out from the embrace, afraid of the unknown pony hugging her. The figure complied, and as it retreated, Sunset could see more of the pony’s body— a shining, multicolored mane that waved in a seemingly unseen breeze; wide, calming pools of magenta made up the mare’s eyes; and most importantly, both horn and wings adorned the pony’s frame. 

Out of panic, Sunset scrambled to her hooves. Moving away from the princess, she gazed around at what used to be the Orphanage's park; she saw the scorched grass and destroyed trees behind her, and promptly burst into tears.

“I’m sorry I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to I-I just—”

“Calm down, little one— I’m not going to hurt you,” Princess Celestia said, stroking Sunset’s mane affectionately.

Sniffing, Sunset looked up to see the Princess’s warm eyes smiling at her. Shaking her head, she walked past the Princess, sitting on the grass where the burn marks ended. Confused at the filly’s behavior, Celestia sat beside her, wrapping a wing around the distressed unicorn.

“Princess?”

“Yes?”
“What’s gonna happen to me? I’m a danger, look what I did to the—”

“Don’t say those things. You are a very special little filly— magic flows through your veins as I’ve never seen before. Magic is your destiny.”

“Special filly… “ Sunset gasped in realization and rushed to her hooves, hugging the Princess’s large frame with her little hooves as best as she could.

Startled by the sudden show of affection, Celestia stroked the unicorn’s mane. “What is it, my little filly?” she asked sweetly, feeling the warmth of foreign tears matting her fur.

“Y-You were the voice…” Sunset cried, hugging Celestia even tighter. “You saved me, I-I… thank you.”

Both ponies rejoiced at the embrace; not even the murmur of far-away guards arriving at the scene, or the crying children in the distance, could disturb their happy moment. Only the quiet sniffing of the filly over her barrel mattered to Celestia.

Sunset tensed for a brief moment before looking up at the Princess with watery eyes. “Princess, are you… are you going to leave me?” 

“Never, Sunset. You’re never going to be alone— not now, not ever,” Celestia stated firmly, tightening her hold on the filly.

“And what about the orphanarium? I-I hurt them, they don’t want me back…”

“You are not going back to the orphanage tonight,” Celestia said simply, confusing Sunset further.

“What?! Not going to—”

“You are coming with me,” the Princess said, cutting Sunset’s exclamation short. “From now on, you are Sunset Shimmer, personal student of Princess Celestia.”

Speechless, Sunset closed her eyes in contemplation. After a few moments, she looked up, and with a wobbly smile she asked, “For real?” Receiving a nod from Celestia, she leaped into the air, jumping with all the might she could muster (which, considering the amount of energy expended in her recent explosion, was not much).

“Oh! Another thing— look,” Celestia noted, pointing at the filly’s flank. The mark of a yellow and red blazing sun, with six fierce rays coming from it, occupied the place once blank.

“M-My cutie mark! How? I-I can’t believe it… What is it about, Princess?” Sunset asked, alternating between looking at the Princess and her own flank.

“The mark of the sun— the mark of magic. You are destined for great things… my faithful student,” Celestia explained. Rising from the ground, she motioned for Sunset to follow her.

As both mare and filly walked through the park’s open field, the warm, orange light of dusk shimmered behind them, signaling the end of the day, the end of suffering and sadness, and the beginning of new adventures to come.



“—And that’s how I got my cutie mark, and became the Princess’s student in the process,” Sunset Shimmer said, sighing to herself as her story ended. It always elicited various reactions among those who heard it.    

Pinkie Pie rubbed her puffy, red eyes, as little Luna and Twilight did the same; they had obviously been crying for a while. Strangely enough, Princess Celestia seemed to have a stronger reaction than her own daughters, and she had actually been there!

“I-I’m sorry, I just need a moment. Sunset, may I please use your bathroom?” Celestia asked, sniffling as she stood up. Her matted fur, red eyes, and tangled mane confirmed that she was the worst for wear among their little group.

Startled by her mentor’s extreme reaction, Sunset only managed to utter a simple ‘yes’ in response, as the Princess had already made her way upstairs.

As Celestia’s frame disappeared from the stairway, Sunset took advantage of her absence to inquire about her mentor’s well-being.

“Twily, Lulu, what’s wrong with your mother?” the unicorn asked, not quite certain which word to use to describe the Princess’s behavior. “She’s acting a bit… melancholic.”

“I dunno,” Luna said. “She fainted this morning, and she was acting a bit strange, but—”

“Fainted?! What do you mean she fainted? Is she okay? What happened?” Sunset yelled, interrupting Luna’s explanation.

“Umm, well, the doctor said it wasn’t anything important— he looked kinda bored, too. And we wanted to visit you so badly… so she didn’t say anything about it,” Twilight finished for her sister, wiping the leftover tears from her cheeks.

“Do you think that a party could cheer the Princess up?” Pinkie asked hopefully, already coming up with several ideas for one of her trademark ‘Cheer-up parties.’

Sunset frowned, deep in thought. She didn’t want to make public what could have potentially been one of the Princess’s private matters. Hmm, but I do need some time alone with her…

Determining the best course of action for the situation, Sunset spoke up. “I think you’re right, Pinkie. Go talk to the girls and tell them whatever you’re planning in that head of yours.”

“Oh! Oh! Can we go with her?” Twilight asked, jumping in excitement. Sunset rolled her eyes, but complied nonetheless.

“Of course you can. Be careful, though,” she said, causing the fillies to cheer in delight.

As they made their way to the door, Sunset pulled Pinkie aside to give her some very important advice. “Pinkie, I beg of you— don’t let your guard down! I don’t want anything to happen to these two. I know first-hoof how overexcited they can get, so keep an eye on them at all times.” Despite the warning, much of Sunset’s threatening tone was lost on Pinkie, who held her ever-cheerful smile.

“Don’t worry about it, Sunny! I know how to take care of a couple foals— I’ve taken care of Pound and Pumpkin, remember?”

“Pinkie…” Sunset sighed, face-hoofing. “Where are Twilight and Luna?” she remarked, making the pink pony’s eyes widen.

“Oh, right!” Pinkie yelled, running towards town. “Bye Sunny!” she called out from the distance.

“That mare…” Sunset chuckled, shaking her head.

Regaining her serious frown in a disturbingly short amount of time, Sunset stated, “Something fishy is going on here, and I intend to find out what.”         
      
> Party Planning is Magic
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Trotting down the dusty streets of Ponyville, Pinkie Pie waved and greeted the cheerful townsponies, who never lost their amicability, even in the presence of royalty.

The couple of royal fillies jumped and laughed as they passed through town. Their visits were always a nice change of pace from the hectic life in the castle, full of maids, guards, chefs, and assistants. It was nice to feel like a normal pony for once.

As the trio arrived at the nearest building from the library, the Carousel Boutique, they could make out Rarity’s melodic voice singing, as she usually did when she worked alone.

Both fillies shared a look; their lips curled upwards, and they promptly burst into a fit of giggles. However, their laughter paled in comparison to the whole-hearted chuckling of Pinkie, the mature one.

Rolling with mirth on the ground, the party pony never noticed the sudden halt of the singing, followed by the door slamming open. The fillies’ giggles rapidly subsided under the gaze of the marshmallow mare, yet Pinkie Pie continued her endless fit of laughter.

“Pinkie Pie on foalsitter duty, oh joy,” Rarity said, snapping Pinkie out her fit. The aforementioned mare rose from the ground with unequine quickness as she fixed Rarity with a frown.

“Hey!” she yelled indignantly. “Why doesn’t anybody believe I can foalsit?! I’ve taken care of Pound and Pumpkin— they love me!”

“I’m not doubting your capabilities, Pinkie,” Rarity explained, “I’m just saying you might not be the greatest authority figure for these two.” She smiled as she turned her attention to the little alicorns—they were so cute—but her smile quickly vanished as she remembered the last time the Cutie Mark Crusaders and the royal fillies were together.

Alicorns had immense power, even little ones like Twilight and Luna. A shiver ran down her spine; horrible things had happened that day.

Though the alicorns didn’t notice Rarity’s discomfort, their chaperone did. “Uh, Rares?” Pinkie said, waving a hoof in front of Rarity’s blank face in an attempt to interrupt her crashing train of thoughts, “You kinda zoned out there— you alright?”

Rarity shook her head quickly. Waking up from her self-induced nightmare, she said, “Why yes, Pinkie dear, I was just… remembering something.”

“Something? What is it?” Luna asked, raising an eyebrow as Rarity inconspicuously began closing the door behind her.

“Nothing of importance, really. Now, enough of myself, how are—”

“Sis!” a squeaky voice called from inside the boutique. 

Rarity’s face contorted into a horrified frown. So close, she thought, as the pair of alicorns dashed past her into the building.

“Oh look, Sweetie’s here!” Pinkie’s untimely comment did nothing to alleviate Rarity’s current state of mind— she just stared at the party pony with emotionless eyes. “What?” Rarity groaned at Pinkie’s clueless response; she took a deep breath, attempting to calm her agitated nerves.

Everything will be fine. As long as we— I mean Pinkie keeps an eye on them, nothing with catastrophic consequences for my boutique will happen, Rarity rationalized, trying to suppress the oncoming wave of panic overtaking her.

As soon as her disturbing thought process ended, a trio of overly excited fillies exited the building, almost crashing with Rarity in their mad dash.

The blue, purple, and white blur finally separated, and soon enough, three pairs of eyes bared into Rarity’s soul with such force that her legs quivered under the constant cuteness attack.

“Can we go and play with Scootaloo and Applebloom pleeeease?!” The pressure crushing Rarity’s heart increased tenfold at hearing three tiny voices asking such an innocent question. Rarity was usually accustomed to her sister’s antics, but seeing her doing the puppy dog eyes—which she, as a matter of fact, had taught her sister how to do—along with the royal sisters was unbearable.

Prepared to surrender her will to the supreme masters of adorableness under the unrelenting assault, Rarity looked beside her for support, but she found no one. Pinkie lay unconscious on the ground— cause of death: extreme cuteness.

Incapable of resisting much longer, Rarity opened her mouth and uttered the words she knew with certainty she would regret later: “Yes… but be careful.”

When Rarity heard an excited chorus of ‘Cutie Mark Crusaders plus Royals, Yay!’, she immediately fell to her haunches. As she curled up on the ground in the most unladylike manner possible, her eyes watering, she muttered, “What have I done?”





Neither Rarity’s drama nor Pinkie Pie’s nonsense were anything strange to Ponyville’s general populace. However, some might have found the way the fashionable mare was wailing on the porch of her boutique quite an unusual course of action to show displeasure towards the new fashion tendencies of Stalliongrad, or whatever Rarity found displeasuring these days. Pinkie’s exaggerated response likely didn’t help matters.

Fluttershy was the first to encounter the odd scene during her daily walk to town. Being the kind soul that she was, she tried to awaken Pinkie’s unconscious form—with no visible response from the aforementioned mare whatsoever—before attempting to snap Rarity out of her trance-like crying. “Um… Rarity, are you okay?” Unfortunately, Fluttershy’s soft voice failed to reach the hysterical mare in her depressed state.

However, the yellow pegasus wasn’t one to give up so easily, unless of course, some monster of demonic proportions was attacking her. In that case, she would flee from the town to find herself a more calm, relaxed environment; her cousins happened to own a nice farm in Minneighsota— monsters didn’t attack there. Nothing ever happened there.  

Sadly for the timid mare, no monster happened to be attacking today. Taking a deep breath, Fluttershy shook Rarity’s head, with more force than normal behind her hooves. Astonishingly, she managed to get a response; the coherency of the alabaster mare’s response was debatable.

“Are they still here? Crusaders monster-busters nooo


“Rarity…”

“Magic-bred spiders. Giant fangs, those hateful eyes… No, Twilight, please don’t— ouch!” Rarity was forcefully awoken from her trauma-induced nightmare by a stinging feeling in her left cheek, the pain brought by a powerful slap delivered, much to Rarity’s and various bystanders’ surprise, by Fluttershy’s winning right hook. “Fluttershy!” Rarity yelled, nursing her aching cheek with her hoof. “What was that for?!” 

Startled by Rarity’s quick, if expected reaction, Fluttershy hid behind her long pink mane and tried to stammer a truthful response. “I-I, um, you weren’t responding, a-and I… well, did what I usually do with semi-conscious animals.”

“You beat their heads off?!” 

Fluttershy’s ears pinned down from the accusation. “N-No, tapping their heads a couple of times usually works, and—”


“A tap? Hear me out, Fluttershy— that was no tap! Why did you slap me?!” Rarity stood up, fixing the pegasus with a stern glare usually reserved for misbehaving fillies. Her glare lost most of its intensity rather quickly, though; it wasn’t easy to be mad at Fluttershy.

“Well, you are kind of big to be awoken by a few taps, so—”

Correction, it was getting easier to be mad at Fluttershy. “Are you calling me fat?!”

“I-um-no, I—”

“Nevermind. Let’s wake up Pinkie— we’ve got something really important to do.” Rarity dismissed Fluttershy’s earlier statement (but kept it in the back of her mind for further inquiry) as she entered her house, looking for a glass of water to throw at Pinkie’s face.

Fluttershy stayed behind, staring at Pinkie with a contemplative frown on her face. Maybe if I slapped her hard enough she would— 

Rarity’s poorly timed arrival destroyed Fluttershy’s twisted train of thought. She tried to maintain a demure pose without showing her disappointment, seeing that Pinkie woke up with a start at the splash of water to her face.

“Huh?! Wha?!” Pinkie thrashed her limbs wildly. As Rarity helped her up, Fluttershy sighed softly in resignation. I guess I’ll have to wait until next friday, then. No one is supposed to find out anyways, she thought, fondly visualizing the mask hidden in the depths of her closet.

Pinkie Pie, completely awake now, gave a few test bounces to make sure her coordination hadn’t somehow been damaged by passing out. She quickly stopped, however, due to her sudden recollection of the reason behind her visit.

“Oh by Celestia’s sparkling mane I forgot!” Pinkie yelled, startling Rarity and breaking Fluttershy from her reverie.

“What happened, Pinkie? What did you forget?” Fluttershy asked, recovering from the earth pony’s outburst.

“Well, the Princess was feeling down, so Sunny asked me if I could set up a party to cheer her up, so I was like ‘Yay a princess party’ but not like those Canterlot snobby princess-parties, more like one of Pinkie’s Princess-Approved Premiere Parties! Huh… Do you think my parties have the Royal Seal? Not those royals like Blueblood, I’m talking about the royal seal— do you know how much my finances would improve if I’ve got the Royal Seal? I could—”

“Pinkie… get to the point,” Rarity demanded. 

“Sorry, Rares. So I was going to tell you guys about the party, but Twilight and Luna wanted to come with me, so Sunny told me to take care of them, but now I’m late to tell Applejack and Rainbow about the party, Luna and Twily have gone missing, and I don’t know what to do!” Pinkie finally finished her explanation, panting due to the lack of air. Rarity wore a thoughtful expression on her face, while Fluttershy was trying to understand the last couple of sentences.

“Hmm, that barely makes sense. If the Princess was feeling upset, Sunset would’ve wanted to keep the nature of her predicament private, not make a party for all of us to find out,” Rarity said as she paced, trying to shed some light on the matter.

“Well, we are her friends, aren’t we?” 

“Why yes, Pinkie, but we are not nearly as close to her as Sunset is. Celestia is more like a mother to her, not only a friend… Anyway, why would Sunset leave the girls with you? She is more than capable enough to take care of the royal fillies— no offense,” she said, smiling sheepishly at Pinkie’s frown.

“Maybe she wanted some time alone with the Princess,” Fluttershy mumbled, causing Rarity to nod in agreement.

“Something quite strange is going on… We’ll have to ask Sunset later,” Rarity said.

“That sounds strange and everything, but it doesn’t help me at all, Rarity. I still have a party to plan and two fillies to look for!” Pinkie yelled in annoyance, the idea of missing the chance of planning a party for her friends terrifying beyond her wildest fears.

“Um, I think I might have an idea that could help us.” All heads turned towards Fluttershy’s direction. The timid mare shrank, hiding behind her mane, from the sudden attention shift. “Well, I’m sure Twilight, Luna, and Sweetie Belle will go looking for Scootaloo first— she’s usually practicing at the park with her scooter. They’ll eventually go to Sweet Apple Acres to pick up Apple Bloom, so if we reach Applejack in time, we might find them there,” she explained, gasping for breath. 

Rarity looked at Fluttershy as if she had grown another head, while Pinkie stared in awe, surprised by the fact that Fluttershy had the ability to ramble endlessly.

“Well, that is… If you want to…”

Composing herself, Rarity nodded her agreement and motioned for Pinkie to follow her. “Then it’s settled: Pinkie and I will go and look for Rainbow Dash—wherever she is—while you go tell Applejack about the party, and find the fillies.” 

“B-But—” Fluttershy stammered, confused at the sudden turn of events.

“Don’t worry, Fluttershy. I’m sure you can handle the girls— we’ll see you by the Acres!” Rarity called as she walked off, a bouncing Pinkie in tow.

Fluttershy stared at the departing mares. Her legs shook from utter fear, but she forced her limbs to move. The last time she took care of the Crusaders, half her body ended up as stone. She hadn’t had the pleasure of foalsitting the royal pair, but Rarity had filled her in on certain details of their exploits during one of their weekly visits to the spa.

A couple of breaths later, Fluttershy walked towards her execu— err… Sweet Apple Acres, with a steady pace. A weary sigh escaped her lips. It won’t be so bad, she repeated to herself over and over, a little mantra of peace to reassure herself. Applejack will be there, too— she knows how to take care of children.

With that last rationalization, Fluttershy made her way through Ponyville, though what little confidence she had managed to muster waned with every second passing.

What cruel destiny awaited her, she was unsure. One fact remained true, though: it wouldn’t be pretty.





“What about the town hall? You sure the mayor doesn’t need our help?” the blue filly asked, buzzing her wings around, soaring effortlessly.

Sweetie Belle shook her head somewhat sadly. “Not since we screwed up some papers.”

“Of what?”

“I don’t know, it had something to do with a demolition or something,” she meekly explained, lowering her ears as she heard Luna sigh dejectedly. With Twilight and Luna’s ‘acceptance’ into the Cutie Mark Crusaders, Sweetie Belle felt, more than ever, that their adventures just weren’t the same. There was some kind of pressure when the royal pair was around. She didn’t want to disappoint her friends, and while Twilight had reassured her of their friendship countless times, she still felt insecure when suggesting something new to them— a problem she hadn’t had the courage to express to her pals.

Feeling a hoof drape over her shoulder, Sweetie turned around to find Twilight smiling at her encouragingly. “Don’t mind her, I’m sure there’s lots of things to do around here.” 

“I hope so,” Luna countered, receiving an angry glare from Twilight in response. While she wasn’t always grumpy, Luna was the most temperamental of their little group, Scootaloo following closely behind.

“Anyways…” Twilight moved past her pessimistic sister, bumping her in the process. She squinted her eyes, searching for something in particular. “Where is Scootaloo? Doesn’t she usually practice here?”

“Well—”

“WATCH OUT!” As if on cue, the sound of hummingbird-like wings, along with the screech of skidding wheels, interrupted the trio’s conversation. They had inadvertently walked into the middle of one of Scootaloo’s improvised racetracks. The alicorns evaded the incoming projectile rather easily by lifting themselves up with their wings. The unicorn in their party wasn’t so lucky, though.

“Auuugh!” Sweetie yelled in pain, the collision pushing her over onto her back.

Twilight and Luna, after seeing the path of destruction their friend had created, rushed to their side, trying to be helpful in any way possible. Luna helped up Sweetie, while Twilight assisted Scootaloo, who seemed for the most part unharmed.

“Scoots, are you alright?” the lavender filly asked, lifting the scooter in her purple magic.

“…”

“Scoots?!”

“I’m… I’m okay… Twilight.” Scootaloo’s pain-clouded eyes did a double-take as she realized which one of her friends was standing over her. “Twilight! You’re here!” the pegasus exclaimed, pulling Twilight into a bone-crushing hug.

“Urgh, Scoots… air please.” At Twilight’s complaint, Scootaloo retreated from the impromptu embrace, blushing profusely. She wasn’t usually one to be found doing this kind of sappy stuff, but she couldn’t help it. Twilight was especially huggable according to the pegasus hug-o-meter, almost reaching Rainbow Dash in cuddliness. Not that she’d ever admit that.

Scootaloo didn’t notice the purple hoof waving in front of her, nor did she notice Twilight’s somewhat alarmed voice calling her name. It was probably due to the fact that her mind was lost in a constant reverie—in an inner sanctum, one could say. That, and she’d probably suffered a concussion, internal hemorrhage, or something of the sort. That likely being the case, Twilight’s rather unorthodox response after failing to gain Scootaloo’s attention was warranted.

It was common knowledge that pegasi were one of the lightest species of ponies, only following behind alicorns. Yet, one tiny fact that remained unknown to the earth pony and unicorn population was that this little evolutive knick-knack brought with it extreme sensibility. It was sort of a species-wide secret amongst pegasi; no one would’ve taken their ancient, fearsome armies seriously if they had known that they could disarm them simply by poking their sides or rubbing their bellies. 

Sadly for Scootaloo, but fortunately for Twilight, her body was ruled by these anatomical rules, and since she was a filly, the effect was even more immediate. The orange pegasus fell once again as her somewhat dormant mind registered Twilight’s feathered appendages tickling her sides.

“T-Twilight, n-n-n-NO HAHAHA! P-PLEASE S-STOP!” Scootaloo half-yelled, half-laughed, trying to push Twilight away from her. After a couple of agonizing seconds, the filly in question finally relented, giving Scootaloo time to regain her breath.

“Don’t— Don’t ever do that again,” the pegasus threatened, eliciting giggles from Twilight, who helped her up in turn. “I’m serious, Twi— you hurt me this time.” Twilight’s face lost its mirth as she approached Scootaloo, afraid that she had damaged her friend in some way. The orange filly smiled, relieved that Twilight had believed her ruse; she took advantage of the alicorn’s lowered guard to get revenge on her tormentor, using her own wings over Twilight’s neck and belly. The perfect plan.

“Ehem!” Luna’s unamused voice, combined with the most serious frown a ten-year-old could muster, interrupted the playful moment between the two. In response, Scootaloo was pushed by Twilight’s alarmed hoof as she laughed awkwardly.

“If you stopped your flirting,” Luna started, her lips curling into a mischievous smile at Twilight’s muted retort, “Sweetie is okay. Can we go now? We’re wasting an entire day’s worth of crusading.” Twilight simply nodded at her sister’s complaint, her cheeks puffed in an adorable pout, while blushing all the way. Thankfully, her coat covered most of the bright crimson color. Scootaloo, on the other hand, wasn’t so lucky.

Sweetie Belle squealed in utmost satisfaction. Spending quite a lot of time with her sister and her fluffy romance novels had probably conditioned her to find love everywhere— kind of a mini-Cadance, but with the tact of a little filly.

“Twily and Scoots, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” she sang, making the alicorn blush with even more intensity.

Twilight ran towards the acres, Sweetie following behind to continue her taunt, leaving Scootaloo and Luna to their own devices.

The pegasus sighed, yet a smile never left her face. She grabbed her forgotten scooter, but when she motioned for Luna to step up, she froze dead in her tracks, hypnotized by Luna’s withering glare. It was odd, seeing Luna making a face like that; she almost never got angry, not like this. This was the wrath of a goddess… or maybe that of a goddess in training. How could Scootaloo have wronged her in such a way to be on the receiving end of Luna’s anger?

“Oh… Um… Something wrong, Luna?”

“I’m watching you,” the alicorn said, approaching menacingly until their muzzles were inches apart. Scootaloo gulped and nodded, relieved when Luna nodded back. She stepped on the scooter, shivering as Luna grabbed her back, grateful that her wings had managed to work, despite the fright.

It was the first time one of her friends had scared her like that. Scootaloo pondered the implications of Luna’s statement for a moment, but she didn’t need to. She had seen the same look in Rarity’s and Applejack’s eyes—sometimes even in Rainbow’s—when annoying foals like Diamond Tiara bothered her and the crusaders. It was the glare of a protective sister.






“Come on, Clear Skies! Give me ten more, right now!” the prismatic pegasus yelled, sitting over a cloud with her hooves crossed over her chest in disapproval.

The mare at whom Rainbow’s anger was directed just huffed in response, too tired to form coherent sentences. Rainbow Dash—currently Trainer Dash—tsked at the mare’s behavior, cursing the fact that she was stuck with this slowpoke instead of training the advanced group. When her boss had said that Clear Skies needed ‘special assistance,’ she wasn’t kidding. 

“Stop your whining, you’ll never be ready for winter if you keep slacking like that!” Dash kicked the cloud Clear Skies was resting on, forcing her to use her already exhausted wings.

“Aw c’mon, Boss, let me rest a little! I’m not an athlete like you, y’know!” Clear Skies whined, smiling at her superior. Her grin faltered when Rainbow didn’t smile back, but instead rolled her eyes.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Skies, and that’s not even an excuse! In Ponyville, every pegasus in my squad is suited to work in extreme conditions.”

“Everyone had you as their trainer?” the amethyst pegasus asked incredulously as she descended; her wings wouldn’t hold her up much longer.

Following her subordinate, slightly angry that part of their morning regime was being wasted resting thanks to Clear Skies’ terrible physique, Rainbow replied, “Of course! I’m the best trainer ‘round these parts! Who do you think trained everyone for tornado duty?”

Gloating at the fact that she was chosen to play that important role almost a year ago, she didn’t notice that her comment hadn’t had the expected result.

“Wow, no wonder you couldn’t break our mark.” Like a bomb going off, Rainbow’s temper exploded at Skies’ sassy statement. Sass wasn’t something Rainbow appreciated, especially when someone blamed her for what was, according to her friends and plenty of frightened pegasi, all Thunderlane’s fault.

“They got the feather flu! We could’ve broken your mark any day!” Rainbow Dash turned around, a gesture seemingly proper to end the sudden discussion and continue their work. Only a second after, she realized one tiny detail that had escaped her mind.

“And how would you know? The only pony from outside Ponyville was Spitfire, and I’m pretty sure she didn’t say else anything about our skill.”

“Well, she had to file the report, and… y’know, these things get through.” Clear Skies’ comment did nothing to alleviate Rainbow’s strained mood. While Clear Skies wanted to continue her taunting—having the chance of bothering one’s boss was a rare opportunity—she’d made a grave mistake, misjudging the prismatic pegasus’s actual state of mind, something that Ponyville’s populace had learned through plenty of… not pleasurable experiences.

“‘Ponyville incompetence’— that’s what Fillydelphia’s shopper wrote. You almost failed at getting water to Cloudsdale.” Clear Skies could not have chosen worse words to say at that moment.

Rainbow Dash grabbed the mare by her neck, lifting her in an amazing display of strength. Clear Skies’ destiny was sealed; if there was something Rainbow Dash was known for, it was for being completely loyal to her friends, and the fact that most of her friends lived there made Ponyville one of the few things nobody could ever make fun of. 

“Don’t ever say that again,” she said, her voice cold as a Crystal Empire blizzard. The pegasus in her hooves nodded with her eyes closed, presumably praying to Celestia for someone to save her, or maybe cursing her own stupidity— likely both.

“Rainbow Dash!” Thankfully, an elegant voice answered Clear Skies’ prayers as a soft blue glow managed to separate her from Rainbow’s grip.

“What in Faust’s name are you doing to this mare?!” Rarity exclaimed, checking Clear Skies for any injuries— other than psychological scarring. Rainbow Dash, on the other hoof, tried to escape the crime scene before her crazy friend could turn on her. Unfortunately, Rarity’s keen eye for detail, trained by spending a number of years taking care of her own little troublemaker, noticed Rainbow’s attempt at fleeing. With a stern glare, she froze Rainbow mid-flight.

“Oh, Dashie, that wasn’t very nice; look at her, she’s shivering.” Pinkie Pie’s unexpected voice startled Rainbow from behind; Pinkie’s uncanny teleportation abilities were still a mystery to be unraveled. 

“Apologize this instant!” She now found herself against one of her lesser-known weaknesses; after spending quite a long time with Fluttershy and her deadly stare, Rainbow had developed a vulnerability against those kinds of psychological attacks. Rarity’s glare, though lacking the hypnotic qualities of Fluttershy’s, had a somewhat similar effect, but no one said Rainbow couldn’t still try to put up a fight…

“B-But Rares, she—did you—”

“I don’t care, Rainbow Dash. Say it.” Rainbow didn’t want to continue arguing with the angry mare, but what her friend was requesting would lose her the small amount of respect she’d managed to earn among her subordinates.

“Argh… I’m sorry, Skies.”

“What was that?” Rarity was quickly earning first place on Rainbow Dash’s To-Prank list. Yes, she had a list. 

“I’m sorry, Clear Skies.” Begrudgingly, Rainbow finally apologized to the mare. The response given—a single frightened nod—reassured Dash that her authority wasn’t being questioned.

“I did it, okay? Now why are you here?” Rainbow asked, taking flight a couple of feet over her friends. “We were training for something important!” 

“Well, we—”

“Hold up— Clear Skies!” She turned and called her trainee to attention. “I’m going to talk to my friends for a while. You’ve got your exercises, you know what to do.” It was amazing how Rainbow’s mood could switch between carefree and relaxed to strict and serious in the span of a couple of seconds; she really was Wonderbolt material.

“Yes ma’am,” the amethyst pegasus responded, taking off for the nearest cloud.

“Hey! Focus on cloud kicking— you’ll need it.” 

“Cloud Kicker? Why should I focus on her?” Nobody saw how and when Rainbow Dash managed to move so quickly, but they knew where she was going.

“Cloud kicking! Cloud kicking, not Cloud Kicker, you useless waste of space!” Rainbow yelled, almost crashing with the terrified pegasus.

Once again, Rarity’s magic came to the rescue, dragging her friend back to the ground as she separated both pegasi.

“Chill out, Dashie, everything is gonna be fine.” Pinkie patted Rainbow’s shoulder while the aforementioned mare muttered nonsensical babble, probably regarding the ridiculous shenanigans she had to deal with every day.

When she finally shook herself off, Rainbow exclaimed, “That mare! I can’t believe she has the gall to say something like that! And after everything I’ve done for her!” Turning to Rarity, she cried, “Did you hear her? Ponyville! A failure! I’ll teach her not to—” 

“Please, Rainbow. Relax, take a deep breath. Go on.” Despite her advice, Rarity received a hateful glare from the pegasus, shutting her up immediately. 

Rainbow Dash couldn’t deal with this nonsense, not right now. “I really don’t need this. What did you need me for anyways?” Rainbow asked, changing the subject in an attempt to delete all the murderous ideas that were appearing in her head. 

“A party!” Pinkie yelled, confetti bursting from her mane with her trademark trigger word.

“A party? Eh, Rares, care to explain?” 

“Princess Celestia decided to visit Sunset, along with little Twilight and Luna. We wanted to have a small get-together at Sweet Apple Acres, and enjoy the afternoon sun while eating the wonderful cuisine of Applejack and her family,” Rarity explained with a little flourish.

“Uhh, so… a party?” Rainbow asked, for the most part ignoring Rarity’s superfluous explanation, making the unicorn pout indignantly. “Count me in, I’m tired of dealing with the newbies. So, Sweet Apple Acres?” 

“Yep! Alright Dash, but we need to get going, as in right now!” To both mares’ surprise, Pinkie Pie grabbed Rainbow over her back, and fiercely galloped towards Applejack’s farm.

“Woah! Pinkie— wait! Ouch!” From her spot over Pinkie’s back, Rainbow couldn’t form more than disjointed phrases to voice her discomfort. She couldn’t even use her wings due to the shock of the unexpected movement. She did, however, have the opportunity to notice that Fluttershy wasn’t lying after all: Pinkie’s fur really was as soft as cotton candy. 

Once again, Rarity’s magic ran interference, grabbing one of Pinkie’s legs with an ethereal lasso, which was—much to Applejack’s pride—impeccably controlled by the ivory unicorn. 

What happened next could be easily explained by Neighton’s first law of motion. Physics was one of the many sciences that Pinkie usually ignored, but today, sadly, it forced itself upon the situation. Inertia took hold of Rainbow’s body, sending her flying over the earth pony’s shoulder in a description of parabolic movement better than that of any school teacher.

Rarity couldn’t help but giggle at the circus-like spectacle, and while she didn’t enjoy seeing her friends get hurt, Rainbow Dash’s crashes were something common among Ponyvillians. Not a single week went by that everybody’s favorite pegasus wasn’t involved in some sort of accident. It seemed to be a world record.

Rarity walked up to her friends with concern, but she didn’t expect they would suffer any major injuries. With Rainbow Dash so used to hitting the ground, and Pinkie Pie’s remarkably fast healing factor, it was highly improbable, but nevertheless, Rarity played the role of the caring friend well.

“Uh… sorry, Dashie,” Pinkie said, helping the blue pegasus up while Rarity cleaned out the dirt that had managed to affix itself to her curly mane.

“It’s okay, Pinks. I kinda expected something like that to happen,” Rainbow confessed, brushing the dust off her shoulders as she hovered a couple of feet in the air above her friends, where she felt more comfortable. “And Rarity, that rope— it was awesome! I haven’t seen you use that thing before.” 

Rarity smiled, grooming herself with a comb that appeared seemingly out of nowhere. “Please, Rainbow, a lady always has tricks up her sleeves.” Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes— typical Rarity. Likewise, Pinkie Pie… 

“Sleeves? What sleeves? You don’t even have a hat!” Pinkie cried, completing her quota of random exclamations for the day. Rarity and Rainbow Dash shared a concerned look, followed by corresponding face-hooves, refusing to ask about their friend’s antics.

“So… Acres?” 

“Acres indeed,” Rarity confirmed. Nothing good ever came from questioning Pinkie Pie. The last time someone tried to understand the party pony, a hydra ended up as a sizable pile of ashes.

“Okie dokie lokie, girls! Follow my lead!” Pinkie said as she bounced off.

“Pinkie… Sweet Apple Acres is that way,” Rarity deadpanned, pointing in the opposite direction.

“Whoops!” Pinkie zipped to Rarity’s other side and continued her pronking. “Right! Follow my lead! Again!” Pinkie laughed, now bouncing in the right direction while humming a simple, yet catchy melody.

An idea had already taken form inside Pinkie’s head. A classic— simple but effective. It never failed to cheer her friends up, and while it wasn’t by any means a sumptuous gala like the ones the Princess must be used to, it was the opportunity she really needed to really bond with her daughters, without the pressure that royal environments required.

Bonding was—according to Pinkie Pie—the only thing the Princess needed to alleviate all her concerns, problems, regrets, heartache… Anyways, it was what she needed most.

      
     

> Who? What? How and... Why?
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s too cold.

It doesn’t matter.

We’ve been in here for too long, Twilight will get suspicious… 

Sunset will get suspicious.

Another splash of cold water was due. Why was her mind berating her now? Now, of all the opportunities it had to remind her of all the mistakes she made in her old life… Or… alternate life? What was this world, anyways? Some sort of depression-induced delusion? A cosmic joke presenting her with a depiction of what could have been? 

I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. 

Why? Everything has gone right— no banished sister, no missing apprentice, two little fillies that love you—

This isn’t right! This is not what happened! 

She couldn’t be this selfish… could she? 

“Princess?! Are you alright?” The voice calling from downstairs brought another fresh wave of tears. She let the faucet run again as she stared at her water-stained reflection.

Why must you tell her? her traitorous reflection asked, a clever metaphor that she herself had made to impart the well-deserved blame. The fact that her own subconscious was siding against her was, if not disturbing, worrisome.  

“Because it isn’t right.” A little chat with herself always helped to set things straight. It certainly wasn’t a sign of madness… 

Why? Aren’t you happy? 

“My happiness is irrelevant. This isn’t right.” Celestia turned around, drying her face with a towel. Sunset is obviously worried. Twily and Luna likely are, too. She didn’t want to scare them off.

She opened the door with a glow of her golden magic, taking a deep breath before going downstairs; she absolutely didn’t want to approach her children and student with her face stained by tears. Her makeup was already ruined, and her mane a terrible mess. Another reason for them to worry wasn’t necessary.

In and out… the slower the better. Celestia was fairly familiar with stressful situations. She ruled a nation, after all. However, this one felt ten times more difficult. She felt like a little filly once again, about to be scolded by her teacher for doing something wrong.

But I didn’t do anything wrong, did I? If not… why did she feel so nervous? 

When Celestia reached the library’s first floor, it was silent as a graveyard. “Sunset?” she timidly called, confused by the absence of the fillies and Pinkie Pie. 

“In the kitchen, making some tea! By the way, Pinkie took the girls into town; she’s going to tell my friends about the picnic,” Sunset’s voice rang. Hearing her relaxed Celestia a bit, but since she hadn’t decided what to do about her current predicament, the familiar voice was a meager comfort.

The alicorn walked up to a purple couch, sitting down uneasily. She patiently waited until Sunset returned, but her body seemed to have other ideas. Her brain choosing this exact moment to overreact, her breath suddenly quickened, her trained psyche barely managing to hold it inside. Everything in this strange new world was trying to break her down, and frighteningly, they were succeeding.

“Here we go, all done,” Sunset said as she appeared in the doorway. “I know you like jasmine tea, but I’m all out. I made chamomile instead; I hope you like it.” That same need of approval ever present, Celestia barely crushed the urge to comfort Sunset, her mind suddenly reminding her of what was wrong with this world.

Sunset levitated the plate over to a small coffee table in front of the couch. Not missing a beat, she proceeded to serve the beverage, taking Celestia’s every movement into account in the hopes of deciphering her mentor’s ailment. 

“Sugar, Princess?”

“Yes, Sunset. A spoonful, please,” Celestia said, without cracking her composure. Sunset couldn’t know anything, at least not right now.

Sunset delivered the teacup to Celestia, who grabbed it with her own magic. The delicate smell of chamomile soothed her nerves a bit.   

A couple of awkward seconds passed after Sunset finished pouring her own tea. Only the heavy breathing of both mares, each worried about two different matters altogether, broke the tense mood.

Celestia’s mind didn’t have the opportunity to wander off thanks to Sunset, who gathered enough courage to address her teacher. Clearing her throat, she asked, “So… Princess, what’s new up at the castle? How are the girls doing?” Sunset smiled uneasily, another testament to her still-improving social skills.

Celestia chose her words carefully, her eyes not once focusing on Sunset. “Nothing new, really. You know how boring castle life is.” It was a pretty vague answer. Her student would probably see right through it, but if Celestia guessed correctly, Sunset in Twilight’s position wouldn’t have the bravery to argue with her teacher. Celestia had tried to correct that annoying habit, which Sunset developed early on studying under her wing, but even now, years later—in an alternate universe to boot—it came back from time to time.

“Okaaay… so, have you told them yet?” Sunset’s voice carried an air of uncertainty. She wasn’t convinced of the veracity of her mentor’s response. Yet, as Celestia predicted, she did not pronounce it. 

“Told them what?” It was a reflex; Celestia hadn’t even registered the words coming from her own mouth until Sunset’s eyes widened in terror.

It all happened in the span of a second; the unicorn’s horn burst into a terrifying light show, or, for the more magically inclined, a very powerful spell. Even if alicorns surpassed unicorns by an order of magnitude, Sunset Shimmer as Twilight in this other reality was one of, if not the, most powerful unicorns to ever exist. Her spells, even for immortal beings such as Celestia, were something to be wary of.

“Show yourself, Changeling!” 

What? A changeling? No! you’ve got it all wrong! Celestia held up a hoof. “Sunset, wait! I—” 

“Shut up! Don’t call me that! Where’s the real Celestia?! What did you do with the children?!” Sunset roared. Her fighting instinct kicking in at full force, she prepared to unleash her spell and finish off the loathed bug-pony, but then something caught her attention.

Celestia’s purple eyes, deep pools of knowledge and wisdom, ever calm, even in dark times. Faking them was impossible. Sunset knew them too well; she’d grown up under the same loving gaze, the same patient smile… 

“Sunset, listen to me, I’m not going to hurt you.” Celestia’s calm voice took hold of the unicorn, the bright aquamarine aura diminishing slightly.

“B-but… Celestia, you—”

“I’ll explain everything. Please, sit down,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. Though she had assumed leadership in this situation, inside, Celestia was utterly terrified. Not even in her wildest dreams would she have expected this outcome. Changelings? Something must have given her away… something very important that she missed from her morning routine. Then again, waking up with two little fillies claiming to be her daughters was certainly a change from her morning routine. “Well… I’m sure you—”

“Who are you?” Sunset started, debating whether or not to trust this fake. “You were acting weird. I thought you were sick or something, but… you didn’t know.” Her voice lessened as she brushed her hoof over her mane to somehow calm herself.

“Didn’t know what?” Celestia asked.

Sunset’s gaze suddenly turned back into a baleful one, her horn glowing to clarify the point.
“I’m not saying anything until you explain yourself first,” she growled. 

Celestia nodded rapidly in response. “I understand.”

“Fair enough, you have my attention.” 

Celestia took a deep breath; she could feel the unsteady beat of her heart in her ears. Multiple scenarios passed through her mind. Would she accept her? Would she even believe her? There was only one way to know. “I… I’m not your Celestia.”

“What do you—”

“I’m not your Celestia,” she said, interrupting Sunset by extending her hoof. “I think something else might have brought me here.” The unicorn certainly did not look impressed.

“Brought? From where?” Sunset asked, crossing her forelegs while sneering at the princess.

“That’s… That’s actually a good question, Sunset.” Celestia smiled, seeking some sort of comic relief. When the unicorn didn’t reciprocate her gesture, she reluctantly continued.

“I think that some sort of spell was cast, which brought me here from… an alternate reality.” The last part came out as a whisper, but Sunset managed to understand. It was a wild guess, yes, but it made sense; Starswirl’s mirror existed, so there must have been another way to travel between universes. Sunset hadn’t said anything yet; she was still expecting a more elaborate explanation. “I understand this might seem—”

“What? Ridiculous? Impossible? You should write Daring Do with such amazing stories.” Sunset’s voice reeked with sarcasm, her head shaking with a bitter laugh.

“Please Sunset, let me explain. Have you… Have you ever read Starswirl’s multiverse theory?” Approaching the subject from a more scientific point of view seemed to have a positive effect on Sunset’s behavior. Her expression morphed into a thoughtful one, as she cautiously nodded.

“Yes, it was his last work before he died.”

“Mysteriously disappeared. We don’t know if he actually died.” 

Sunset huffed, frustrated by Celestia’s cryptic responses. “So? It’s only a theory; that doesn’t explain anything.” 

“Sunset Shimmer! I can’t explain myself if you keep interrupting me like that,” Celestia said, appealing to the unicorn’s student side. Sunset was definitely more short-tempered than Twilight, and it was becoming an issue for Celestia at the moment. If she didn’t calm her down soon… she didn’t even want to think about that. 

Sunset rolled her eyes, but acquiesced nonetheless, motioning with her hoof for Celestia to continue.

“Long ago, millennia before I ascended to Equestria’s throne, terrible monsters ruled the land, feeding from our little ponies’ negative emotions. Starswirl managed to banish them to another world, where their magic couldn’t harm anyone else. He succeeded, but it was already too late. The tribes became enemies amongst themselves, and Windigos took advantage of this… you know the rest.”

“Why is this important? I had history lessons too, you know.” A stern glare from Celestia quieted Sunset’s protests.

“Later on, much later, I found out that he also created a portal to travel between these two worlds. We sent some of our better soldiers to explore it, but they never came back. Since then, I have prevented anyone from accessing it.”

“A portal between worlds…? Why haven’t I heard anything about it?”  

Celestia let slip a little conspicuous smile. “Ask your brother and sister-in-law. The Crystal Empire holds more secrets than you can imagine.”

Sunset suddenly lowered her gaze, as if confused about something. She rose from the couch, her brows furrowed thoughtfully. “I don’t have a brother,” she said, taking a deep breath as her voice cracked. “Only Prince Shining Armor and Princess Cadance live in the empire.”

Slowly, realization dawned on Celestia—realization that she had done something unforgivable, something plainly stupid. There were similarities, but also obvious differences between her world and this one. Of course things had been different; Sunset Shimmer was an ORPHAN! How could she be so clueless?

“Sunset, I—”

“I hope that you aren’t making this up,” Sunset said. Despite being dangerously close to crying, her voice was harsh and unforgiving. “Because if you are… If you are, so help me Faust, I will destroy you.”

“I-I’m not making things up, Sunset, I pro—”

“How different is this world of yours, then?”

“I don’t think—”

“Tell me!” Sunset yelled, making Celestia cringe. It seemed that she had no other choice. Denying Sunset’s request would mean another outburst from her, an outcome that Celestia was trying to avoid by any means necessary. On the other hoof, telling her would mean explaining how she had ruined her life, and replaced her with a ‘newer model.’

But what else could she do?

“First off… Neither Twilight nor Luna are my daughters.” She decided to explain this ‘easier’ part first. Maybe when she reached the peak of her story, Sunset would have calmed down a bit. 

The mare made no discernible reaction; for as much as she loved the girls, she was interested in more important information.

“Luna… Luna is my sister. She controls the moon, and rules over the domain of dreams and nightmares.” 

Once again, no reaction.

“Twilight Sparkle is my faithful student, the Element of Magic, and the newly crowned Princess of Friendship.” 

Sunset widened her eyes, recognizing the initial description as her own. She fidgeted with her mane trying to form a coherent question. “I-I’m not your student… What am I, then?”

Tears ran freely down Celestia’s cheeks as she shook her head, the smaller mare’s voice drilling holes through her heart.      

“You were my student… then something terrible happened.”

“What?”

It’s now or never, Celestia conceded to herself. “I happened, Sunset. My foolish desires and my selfishness—I changed you, turned you into a weapon. When I tried to fix my mistakes, it was too late… You were long gone.” 

“G-gone? Did I… die?” Sunset asked, her voice hitching in her throat.

Celestia shook her head rapidly, the mere thought terrifying. She wanted to comfort Sunset by pulling her close with her wing. At the attempt, the unicorn backed away, slapping the feathery appendage with her hoof.

“No, Sunset… you… You asked me about the portal between worlds— how I knew so much about it?” As Sunset nodded Celestia continued, “Well, I had groomed you your entire life for a fate that turned out to be someone else’s. You weren’t the real element of magic; Twilight was, and you were furious. I tried to help, but… you ran away. You crossed the portal. I couldn’t do anything.”

“You didn’t try to search? To rescue me?!” Sunset screamed, stomping the ground angrily. Celestia instantly felt the same voice, the same anger from all those years ago, return in full force. 

“I thought you were dead, Sunset! I was stupid… I didn’t want to face everything that I had done to you,” Celestia said, lowering her head in dejection.

Sunset didn’t say a word. Instead, Celestia just heard the soft ‘thump’ of the mare falling on her haunches, and sobbing faintly into her hooves.

Celestia wasn’t faring any better; her ethereal mane seemed to have lost most of its colorful shine, fading into a more grayish hue. What could she do now? She wanted to hug Sunset, to tell her that everything was going to be fine, but she knew her love wouldn’t be accepted, and… and that was alright. She’d screwed up— she had to deal with her own mistakes.

She’d have to learn something eventually.

Sunset mumbled something unintelligible, her head shaking as if talking to herself. Celestia scooted closer to the yellow mare, trying to decipher what she was saying, but her attempt was short-lived. Sunset suddenly raised her head, tears no longer streaming from her eyes.

“What… what happened to her? Sunset? The other Sunset, I mean?” she croaked.

Celestia blinked, confused at being suddenly addressed. She licked her lips; forming a veritable answer was more difficult than she expected.

“She came back.” Sunset’s ears perked up for a moment. Then Celestia continued, “When Twilight ascended to alicornhood, the other Sunset tried to steal her crown, the element of magic, a mere week after her coronation. Twilight and her friends from the other world managed to stop her, and helped her onto a path of redemption.” 

Sunset nodded absentmindedly at the explanation. It was surprising how she still stood after receiving so much disconcerting news. She was a strong mare, Celestia knew that, but how much more could she take before she broke down?

“Sunset, for everything that has happened, for everything I’ve done, I need you to know that I’m sorry. I-I’ve got nothing else to say. Over the centuries, I’ve destroyed countless lives with my foalish actions, but what pains me even more is that I keep making the same mistakes. I’m an old mule, I will never learn. I’d like to ask for your forgiveness.”

Labored breathing… but nothing more. No screaming? No cursing? The quiet, more than Sunset’s crying, was unbearable. Celestia had to know—would she forgive her? Just let it go like nothing happened? I wouldn’t, Celestia reminded herself with a bitter laugh. How hypocritical of me, speaking of forgiveness when I still hold countless grudges that I’m not even willing to forget. But Sunset… she is a better mare than I will ever be.

She closed her eyes, allowing them a moment of peace. A few seconds passed, or were they minutes? Celestia couldn’t tell; her mind was busy somewhere else. The silence was ideal for her mind to wander off to more peaceful lands. 

Celestia couldn’t be sure, but Sunset seemed to be mirroring her actions, if the faint breathing she heard was something to go by.

Her eyes remained tightly shut, paralyzed by foalish panic. She suddenly sensed movement, but it wasn’t until she felt warmth on her side that she understood what had happened— the single outcome she hadn’t expected.

“I-I forgive you, Celestia,” Sunset whispered, her voice muffled by the princess’s fur. Relief washed over Celestia, more quickly than she expected. She wanted to ask why— why for some forsaken reason Sunset had forgiven her. She didn’t deserve it, she’d ruined her student’s life! How…? Why…?

Sensing the bundle of nerves that Celestia had become, Sunset broke the embrace and looked up at her with a sincere smile. “I know you. You are a kind and gentle pony, Celestia, but you’re not perfect. Nobody is. If I forever held a grudge against you, I would be forgetting that single important fact.” Sunset laughed quietly, forcing Celestia to smile. “Not to mention… everything that we’ve been through together—well, the other you, but still—you raised me like your own daughter. I can’t hate you, ‘Tia, and I’m sure the other me thinks the same.”

Celestia stared with tear-stained eyes at the unicorn wrapped at her side. Could it be true? Was her mind playing tricks on her? No… the tears were real alright— warm, salty, but not sad. Not happy, either, but it was a start.

“Well,” Sunset said after a moment, shaking herself of the sadness, “you still need to explain a few things.” She giggled, poking the alicorn in her belly.

Some of the tension had left the room, now that the truth was out, yet Sunset could still see that Celestia didn’t feel comfortable enough around her. She hasn’t forgiven herself, that mare! Her thoughts made her laugh. Celestia was quite the stubborn mare; she wouldn’t accept Sunset’s forgiveness— not now, at least. . 

“So… How do you think you were sent here? Some botched spell? Discord perhaps?” Sunset’s inquiry diverted Celestia’s attention from her guilty brooding. She wouldn’t press the matter now, Celestia probably needed more time to assess her thoughts.

“From what I gathered this morning,” Celestia said, clearing her throat, “Discord. While he’s not directly responsible for what happened, he definitely knows something. He wouldn’t tell me, though. He truly is infuriating from time to time.”  

Sunset furrowed her brow, analyzing the situation. “If it wasn’t Discord… You mentioned the mirror— any chance you went through it without knowing?” 

“None, I’m certain. Besides, the mirror only connects with one universe, as far as I know.” 

The unicorn deflated at the response. She knew it was a long-shot, but it would have made sense. Sunset suddenly gasped, then ran towards the nearest bookshelf and rummaged through its contents.

“Sunset? What are you doing?” Celestia asked.

“Starswirl’s theory of the Multiverse! I’m sure you gave me all his works; maybe there’s something we can work with.”

“Good thinking there, Sunset,” Celestia said, smiling proudly. Seeing her faithful student use all her knowledge for good filled her with joy.

“Ugh, here it is.” The yellow mare pulled out an enormous book with her magic. With strange symbols carved in its wooden cover, and dust littering the brittle yellow pages, it must have been more than a few centuries old. She levitated the antique spellbook to the same table where now cold beverages stood surprisingly still, considering the events prior.

“I know the magic described here is purely theoretical, but maybe we could create something functional from it,” Sunset explained, looking for a specific page. Celestia nodded in agreement, her mind finally focusing in the matter at hoof.

“I think you are right. If my memory serves me, other magicians have tried the same, most of them royal archmages. I’ll send a letter to the archives; they can send their notes here.” 

Sunset brightened at the suggestion. She had read material about this particular subject, but most of it was aimless rambling written to discredit Starswirl. To read the real magic theory—from the royal archmages, no less—was incredible. “You sure?” she asked, barely containing her glee.

“Of course I am. Well, that is, if the archives are the same here,” the Princess laughed, Sunset following suit.

“Great! Oh… Oh shoot!”

“What is it?”

Sunset face-hooved while mumbling under her breath. Ever so slowly, she looked up at Celestia, smiling nervously. “Uhh, well you see, remember that picnic I promised Twilight and Luna earlier?” she asked.

Celestia widened her eyes slightly. “I see… “

“I could call Pinkie and tell her that we can’t attend. She’d understand.”

“No, I’ll go. I want to spend some time with Luna and Twilight, you see… I missed seeing them like this—they do need me around now,” Celestia chuckled, blushing. It felt nice to confess how she felt. Keeping it all bottled up didn’t help much.

“Alright,” Sunset laughed. Looking at the clock, she added, “I think we should get going, then. I know the walk to the Acres isn’t too long, but ponies are more likely to make a fuss if they see you here.” 

Celestia nodded at the explanation. As she made her way to the door, something caught her attention. Or more accurately, something didn’t. “Where’s Spike?” 

“Spike who?” Sunset asked, confused.

It happened again; this world was having fun cheating her gullible mind. Sunset never had an entrance exam, so she hadn’t hatched Spike from his egg. Sadness attempted to overtake Celestia once again, sadness over what was missing; she was more prepared this time, though. She would find a way to return home—there was no point in sulking around.

Home… Where is my real home? Where indeed. She’d had this argument earlier; it was starting to become repetitive, but her consciousness was right in a way… Things had gone better here, she couldn’t deny it. It was… perfect. In appearance… 

“I’ll… I’ll tell you later,” Celestia answered. “We’ve got a letter to write, don’t we?” 

“Yeah, and a picnic to go to,” Sunset responded, a slightly guilty frown occupying her face.

“It’s quite alright, Sunset. I love spending time with your friends,” Celestia laughed, quickly changing the subject, which put a smile back on Sunset’s face.

“Alright then. Just tell me if you’re feeling… off about anything,” the unicorn said, closing the book she was reading. “We better leave now so we can catch up with Pinkie and the girls.”

Celestia agreed, and they stealthily left the library to head towards the acres. There was just one minor inconvenience; Ponyville wasn’t a city where important events happened often. A visit like this one was such a major occurrence that it deserved its own holiday. Sunset did not want to be faced with admirers wanting to catch a glimpse of the Sun Princess. Thus, the most sensible option, apart from directly teleporting to the farm—which was, according to Celestia, ‘a rude way to travel’—was taking Old Ponyville Path.

Known also as ‘the lovers road’ for its lovely scenery, the old roadway had been the only way of connecting Sweet Apple acres with Canterlot, as well as Equestria’s other big metropolises, before Ponyville was built. It wasn’t by any means an ugly or unmaintained road of a backwater town, but the perfect combination of versatility and the earth ponies’ connection with nature. It was absolutely wonderful.

Though it wasn’t completely silent nor deserted, the path was peaceful enough to soothe both mares’ agitated nerves. Celestia wished she had someplace like this in Canterlot to clear her mind and unwind her emotions whenever she felt down.

“Celestia?” Sunset asked timidly, pulling the princess from her sightseeing. When she didn’t continue, Celestia smiled, encouraging Sunset to finish her question. “About your world’s Twilight… How is she as your student? I mean, how much of a difference is there between us?”

Celestia hummed in thought. She couldn’t blame Sunset for still being concerned about her so-called ‘replacement.’ Hmm… Sunset and Twilight, both brilliant magical prodigies, powerful unicorns not seen since Starswirl’s era. But still… as alike as they may seem on the surface, look how everything turned out… 

Apart from the obvious, Twilight was more anxious than her counterpart, while Sunset was more short-tempered and rebellious. Teaching them both had been a… an interesting experience to say at least.

Sunset stared expectantly at her teacher. Her gaze too intense for Celestia’s liking, she quickly diverted the unicorn’s attention with a small laugh, gaining enough time to gather her thoughts. “Sunset, you see, my universe’s Twilight grew up in very different circumstances. Ever since she was a little filly, she studied day and night to enter my school. And she managed to get in, not by the sleepless nights with her muzzle stuck in a book, but by a fortunate accident of destiny which I’m sure you can relate with.”

Sunset’s eyes widened as her pace slowed slightly. “The Sonic Rainboom!” 

“Exactly. Like you, she had a magical outburst that I had to suppress. She was an extremely clever filly. Extremely cute, too, which may be another unwritten requirement for my school,” she said, poking Sunset with a wing. Sunset blushed, letting out a small giggle. “She grew into a smart and loving mare, but I unintentionally encouraged her to become reclusive, which left her with few friends other than her family and myself.” 

“Huh…” Sunset looked down at the ground, appearing to contemplate this new information. The sudden change in demeanor confused Celestia; in an attempt to encourage Sunset, she draped a wing over the smaller mare’s frame, a gesture which was quickly accepted.

“What is it, Sunset?”

“I was just thinking… Before I came to Ponyville, I was… well, as Rainbow would put it, all the fame of being your student had gone straight to my head. I mistreated other students, and heck! I even yelled at Fluttershy when I first arrived here! I’m not proud of what I’ve done…”

You’re not the only one, Celestia thought sadly, tightening her grip on Sunset’s barrel.

“Twilight chose to be left alone. I chose to hurt other ponies, thinking I was somehow getting revenge for what others had done to me,” Sunset said, crestfallen. “I wonder… what if—”

“Sunset Shimmer! Don’t you blame yourself for things long past. You and Twilight are completely different ponies—products of different circumstances. Do not compare yourself with her, it isn’t healthy.”

“But—”

“If anyone deserves to be blamed, it’s me, for not being aware of what happens with my students,” Celestia said, laughing at her own expense. 

Sunset sighed, lowering her ears. Talking Celestia out of something was near impossible, and if she kept evading her questions like that, Sunset would never get to the bottom of the Princess’s problems. “Alright, but I’m not finished; I am a curious mare, y’know.”

Celestia nodded, smiling knowingly. After a couple of minutes walking in silence, Sweet Apple Acres’ trademark trees came into view, their sweet smell permeating the air while the sound of someone applebucking gradually reached their ears.        

As expected, the figure of Big Macintosh appeared a couple of trees ahead of them. Sunset waved enthusiastically at the stallion, while he, at seeing the princess alongside her, widened his eyes slightly before bowing awkwardly.

Both mares giggled at the stallion’s expense. Walking in his direction, Celestia took notice of how Sunset’s cheeks slowly flushed. A devilish smile took form on her lips. A little crush, eh, Sunset? she thought, barely containing her laughter. I wonder…

Finally face to face, the stallion wasted no time welcoming his guests. “Howdy, Princess, Sunset,” he said, removing his hat. “How’re you two doin’ this fine mornin’?”

Celestia giggled as Sunset’s blush seemed to intensify. “We’re fine, Big Macintosh, thank you. We’re actually wondering if you had seen little Twilight and Luna playing around here? We’re having a little picnic here and I would rather not have my daughters destroying the barn.”

The stallion chuckled, shaking his head. “Fluttershy came here asking for ‘em, too. Sadly, I haven’t seen ‘em ‘round the orchard, but I reckon if they came here, they must be by Apple Bloom’s clubhouse.”

“Wait, Fluttershy was looking for them, too? Oh geez, that means Pinkie must have lost them on her way to Rarity’s and stuck Fluttershy with the job.” Sunset facehooved. “Somehow I knew something like this would happen.” Big Mac patted her back in sympathy.

“Aw shucks, Miss Sunset, have a little more faith in your friends.” Sunset recoiled from the unexpected touch from the earth pony. In turn, afraid of doing something wrong, he let out an awkward laugh while scratching the back of his neck.

The giggle that escaped Celestia’s lips earned her a glare from the unicorn mare. It was an interesting exchange—an encounter between a former recluse and, if what she remembered from Twilight’s letters was correct, not the most talkative of ponies.

The alicorn decided to intervene, even if the cuteness of her unresponsive student was too much to pass up. “Mister Macintosh, if you would be so kind, could you tell us where the clubhouse is?” 

“Eeyup. Follow me, Princess,” he said, once again assuming his somewhat confident posture. He took a seemingly random path through various orchards’ trees, the couple of mares trailing not far behind.

With Big Mac facing away from them, Celestia couldn’t help but smirk down at the flustered mare beside her. Sunset huffed in response, choosing not to honor Celestia’s glance with a response. She focused instead on the road, the trees, the… birds? Anything that could distract her from Macintosh’s flanks.

“We’re here,” the stallion announced, stepping into a clearing after a couple of minutes of awkward walking. He pointed at the small treehouse above them, a treehouse that sadly lacked the fillies they were looking for. Luckily, the fact that the children didn’t have a habit of cleaning their own messes left them with some clues to their current whereabouts.

“What is that?”

“I’m not particularly certain, but I’m going to go with paint,” Celestia answered as she inspected the suspicious container, amused by the fillies’ antics. “It seems that they did come here at some point, so I would presume they’re somewhere around the farm.”

“They’ll probably be messin’ around the house. C’mon, I’ll walk y’all—”

“Don’t worry, Mister Macintosh, we’ll find our way to the house. I’m sure you’ve got plenty of work to tend to.”

“It ain’t a problem, Princess. I could—”

“It’s okay, Mac, we won’t get lost… I hope,” Sunset insisted, smiling reassuringly.

“Alrighty then, I’ll see y’around.” He sighed. Bowing to the princess, he turned around to continue his various jobs in the farm.

Once Big Macintosh was out of earshot, Celestia fixed Sunset with a sly smile, which the unicorn countered by glaring as best as she could, her cheeks burning a bright crimson.

Whereas teasing and taunting could be described as an area where she lacked expertise—that was more Cadence and Luna’s department—Celestia never lost an opportunity like this to participate in the tomfoolery of joking about her student’s attempts at love.

It was just too rich to let it slip.

“So… Big Macintosh? It’s always the quiet ones, isn’t it?”

“Princess! I’d never—” 

“No, it’s okay to like big stallions, right?”

Sunset’s fur was, appropriately, as red as an apple. With a dumbfounded expression, she stared motionless at her tormentor, a nervous tic on her right eye the only proof she was still alive.

Celestia laughed wholeheartedly, scooping Sunset into a tight bear hug. The sudden movement broke the unicorn out of her stupor.

“I’m proud of you, Sunset,” Celestia said, confusing the poor mare even further. “Your love life is as important as your friendships. I couldn’t be happier if you and Mister Macintosh decided to be special someponies.”

“I—you—urgh! C’mon! We’ve got to find the girls!” Sunset exclaimed, her brain not quite working correctly to form a proper rebuttal.

Celestia nodded, yet a glint of her earlier giddiness remained in her eyes. Sunset stared intently at the ground as they walked—or better yet, cantered—towards what the Princess supposed was the Apple family’s house.

“So… when’s the wedding?”

“OH, COME ON!”

“Too easy, Sunny. Too easy.”
> More dessert, please?
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So… we’re havin’ a party.”

“Not a party, Applejack. It’s more like, um… a lunch date?”

“Lunch? Here? With the Princess?! When the hay were you gonna tell me that?”

Fluttershy smiled nervously at the billowing earth pony. When she arrived at the acres, she promptly found the Crusaders, along with the young royal pair. Now she was tasked with informing Applejack about the upcoming picnic. 

“I don’ even know what ta do!” Applejack cried.

“Pinkie said she was taking care of the desserts,” Fluttershy offered.

“And we can help, too! Cutie Mark Crusaders Master Chefs!” With Apple Bloom chiming into their conversation, Applejack had to suppress another annoyed grunt. She loved her sister, but sometimes she could go a little overboard with her friends.

“I… I think it’s better if we let Applejack do the cooking,” Fluttershy said, straining her smile to make up for the choir of sad moans that followed.

“I guess I could whip up somethin’ simple. Ya think the Princess would mind?” Applejack asked, rubbing the back of her mane. She was always open to cook for her friends—occasions like this were common—but she didn’t want to disappoint the Princess by cooking something that wasn’t up to standard.

“Of course she wouldn’t mind!” Fluttershy responded. “And, um… I could always help you in the kitchen—if you need my help, that is.”

“I’d appreciate it, sugarcube,” Applejack said, her thoughts clouding once again as her attention was directed towards the quintet of expectant fillies. Those little bundles of limitless energy could do the unthinkable if left unsupervised, and while most of their plans were harmless, if sometimes crazy, the results weren’t always pleasant.

Applejack couldn’t blame them; she’d gone through that phase when she was a little filly, too. She and Macintosh frequently got in trouble with Granny Smith. They’d grown up of course, but only when they’d been given responsibility. Maybe Apple Bloom needed just that, but what kind of responsibility was the question.

“What are we gonna do, Miss Applejack?” Luna asked, earning a chuckle from the farmer. 

“Nah, don’t you ‘Miss’ me, little one. You two are like family, after all,” Applejack laughed as she ruffled the alicorn’s mane. In the hope that they could give her a useful idea, she turned to the remaining fillies and asked, “What do you want to do, girls?”

“Oh, oh! We can cook… clean, eh…We can… I don’t know,” Sweetie trailed off, excitement derailing her train of thought. Both Scootaloo and Twilight face-hoofed. Of the four of them, Sweetie was the most bubbly and enthusiastic, and while it wasn’t exactly a bad thing, sometimes her ideas were a little… short-sighted.

Hearing no more suggestions from the fillies, Fluttershy offered, “You could… decorate? I know that Sunset said it was an informal lunch, but I’m sure she’d love it if you made a little banner.” Applejack nodded her agreement, concealing the slight surprise that came with Fluttershy’s  foal-proof idea. There was no possible way the fillies could hurt themselves—or anybody else, for that matter—while decorating paper. 

The girls seemed to like the plan, too, as they huddled together in excited whispers, like an impromptu secret meeting. “Okay! What do you want us to do?” Scootaloo spoke up on behalf of the group.

“Do whatever you like,” Applejack answered, “just—” 

“Thanks!” 

“—nothin’ too big…” Before Applejack could finish, the group of hyperactive fillies bolted towards their clubhouse, leaving dust trails behind. She hoped they had everything they needed there; she didn’t want them snooping around while she and Fluttershy cooked. 

“…Maybe we shouldn’t leave them alone like that,” the pegasus commented, worriedly staring at the farm. 

“They… they’re growing fillies, ‘Shy. We should give ‘em some freedom,” Applejack said. Yet, she didn’t quite believe her own words. “Besides, what’s the worst they could do?”

“Umm…” Fluttershy mumbled.

“Y’know what, don’t answer that. C’mon, we’ve work to do.”

“Applejack? I found a really nice recipe for a pear salad—do you think they’ll like it?” Fluttershy asked.

“…” 

“Appleja—”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Applejack deadpanned. 

“Oh.”





“So, he was just sittin’ there?” Applejack asked Princess Celestia.

“Yes.”

“Oh goodness,” Fluttershy said.

“On your throne? Really? What did you do?!” Sunset cried.

“I asked if I needed an appointment to meet ‘His Royal Highness!’” Laughter filled Sweet Apple Acres’ kitchen. The four mares present had forgotten their cooking, lightening up the mood by sharing stories.

After Sunset and Celestia arrived, they decided—ignoring Applejack’s and Granny Smith’s protest—to help out in the kitchen, and though the room wasn’t exactly big, the amicable chit-chat and delicious smells made up for the lack of space. Applejack had to admit, she never imagined cooking alongside a princess while sharing recipes that were older than the town itself.

“I can’t believe Blueblood did something like that,” Sunset said, cutting her share of vegetables with her magic. 

“Ha! I do believe it! That stallion is the most self-centered son-of-a—” Applejack stopped, momentarily paused in her stirring of a nearby bowl, and glanced at the Princess. “Uh, nevermind.”

“No, you’re right!” Celestia laughed.

“Oh, he can’t be that bad,” Fluttershy said, waving a hoof. “Um, Princess, when are we supposed to cook the mushrooms?” 

Celestia glanced at a clock in the wall, subconsciously removing the tiny apron Applejack had given her. “In about thirty minutes or so. It’s only an accompaniment, after all. Sunset, is the seitan ready?” 

The unicorn nodded, adding the final touches into Applejack’s concoction. “I just finished. Now we wait!” Sunset declared triumphantly, proud that for once her cooking didn’t explode.  

“Hoooo-wee, this smells amazin’! Princess, where’d ya get this recipe?” Applejack asked, taking a seat beside her pals.

“Hmm… during the peace talks that ended the Griffon-Pony war, about five centuries ago. I have to admit, if it weren’t for this dish, I wouldn’t have signed that treaty.” At the blank stares she received, Celestia let out an awkward laugh. “I’m only joking with you. Don’t worry.” 

“Well… it does smell nice, Princess,” Fluttershy commented, changing the subject. “I didn’t know you cooked so well. Not that I’m saying you didn’t know how or that—”

“Oh Fluttershy, it’s alright. Most ponies don’t know this, but cooking used to be one of my hobbies,” Celestia said, wrapping a wing around the flustered pegasus.

“Really?” A tiny part of Applejack still didn’t quite believe how someone of the Princess’s status knew how to cook.

“Yes, I remember how Luna and I would—” Luna… 

“Would what?” Applejack asked.

“Would… um, make pancakes for Twilight, hehe.” Stupid, stupid. Different world, different past. Why do I keep forgetting that? she thought, smiling at the clueless mare. In the corner of her eye, Celestia noticed Sunset’s knowing glance subtly signaling for her to come outside.

“Oh, how cute! Does Twilight like to cook, too?” Fluttershy asked, so mesmerized by the sweet scene that she didn’t notice Celestia’s anxiety. 

“No, she isn’t quite the do-it-yourself pony, you know…”  Sunset answered for Celestia, stepping between Fluttershy and the Princess. “Uh, Princess, do you mind if we talk… outside?” With Celestia nodding hastily, both mares left the room, leaving their friends behind wearing confused frowns.

“Huh…” Applejack mumbled, glaring at the door.

“What is it, Applejack?” Fluttershy asked.

“Well, don’t you think the Princess was acting a bit… weird?” the earth pony replied, something deep inside her tingling at Celestia’s behavior. As the element of honesty, as well as an Apple, nothing escaped the lie-detector wired into her DNA.

“A little, I guess… but it must be stress, right?” 

“I suppose… but whatever they’re discussin’ out there must be somethin’ serious.” 

“What makes you say that?” Fluttershy asked. She couldn’t bear the thought of her friends, let alone the Princess, going through something difficult.

“I can tell. Didn’t you see the Princess’s expression? Somethin’ big is going on.”

“I hope not…”





Sunset stared intently at the silent figure of Princess Celestia, a somewhat disappointed frown gracing the unicorn’s face. It certainly was impressive how an alicorn’s imposing frame could become so… small, when presented with the right circumstances. As amusing it was seeing her mentor like a little filly fumbling with words, it certainly wasn’t useful for their current situation. 

“Sunset,” Celestia said, her brain finally able to articulate something, “I don’t think I can do this.” 

As Sunset nuzzled the princess’s neck, she couldn’t help but notice how their roles had reversed throughout this whole affair. Not so long ago, she was the one on the receiving end of Celestia’s comforting touch. “Why not?” she asked, even though she somewhat knew what the alicorn’s answer would be.

“Didn’t you see me? I can’t spend a full minute without somehow remembering everything that’s wrong with me being here!” Celestia replied, barely containing the urge to yell. Feeling powerless wasn’t an emotion she was entirely familiar with, and it was eating her up.

“Maybe… Maybe you could tell them?” Sunset asked tentatively. She knew the mere concept of telling the truth was ridiculous; the repercussions of said scenario were unpredictable at best. Yet, she’d learned to trust more in her friends’ abilities to understand her problems, and this was one of those situations where she thought she could let the magic of friendship work everything out.

“Tell them?! Sure, Sunset, then they’ll think I’m finally going senile!” Celestia exclaimed sarcastically. 

“No they wo—wait, can you actually get senile?” 

“No! Alicorns are immune to senility!” I hope. “But that’s beside the point, Sunset,” Celestia said, attempting to regain her composure. “I can’t tell them.” 

Sunset groaned, cursing the alicorn’s stubbornness. She knew this discussion would be held if she ever brought up the subject of telling the truth, she just didn’t expect Celestia to act this… foalish. Then again, she wasn’t one to talk. “Why not? They’re my friends; I trust them, why don’t you?” 

“That’s not—” 

“Furthermore,” Sunset continued, interrupting Celestia, “you kind of are a princess. They have to believe what you say!”

Celestia glared unamusedly at her student’s attempt to break their argument. Sadly, she wasn’t in the mood for jokes. Well, at least she hoped Sunset was joking with that remark. “I’m not going to pull rank with them; that’s not how it works.”

“Then trust me on this. I know my friends; they will believe you. Plus, they’ll do everything in their power to help you out.” Sunset’s concerned frown actually made Celestia consider her proposition.  

If she trusted Sunset with her life, then why not trust her friends? If Harmony itself chose those five mares to protect Equestria, who was she to argue against it? Something deep inside her wouldn’t allow her to completely rely on Twilight’s—or in this case—Sunset’s friends. Perhaps it was just an irrational fear—the fear of hurting her pride. “I… Sunset, I don’t know…”   

Celestia’s uncertainty wasn’t enough for Sunset. She wanted to help, she really did, she just didn’t know how to. Let me help you, Tia, just let me in, Sunset thought desperately, hoping that she was doing the right thing by following her heart. “Celestia, I know this seems difficult for you, but try not to think about my friends. Think of Luna and Twilight.” Sunset understood how wrong it was for her to pull the foals card, but if it was going to help the Princess, it was worth a shot.

“The girls? What do they have to do with—”

“Everything… There’s something I didn’t tell you at the library when you revealed who you really were.” Sunset’s apprehension piqued Celestia’s curiosity. Whatever Sunset was trying to tell her was something beyond important.

Seeing that the Princess had fallen into some kind of expectant silence, Sunset reluctantly continued. “I don’t know why I suddenly feel the need to tell you this, but… well, a week ago, I visited Canterlot, because you requested my presence. I was worried, obviously. I thought something bad had happened; your letters aren’t usually written with such haste. Anyways… we talked—I mean, my Celestia and I talked.”

“About what?”

“About how much the girls needed to know about their father.” Suddenly, the world stopped; it was as if that single sentence had frozen time itself, as if everything but that simple word had lost its meaning. Sunset worriedly pressed herself against Celestia’s larger frame, fearing that she would fall from sheer shock. Surprisingly, the alicorn stood still like a statue, her mind already beyond panic at this point.

Father? Their father? What? I thought… How did I miss… Celestia’s thoughts couldn’t process the implications of the mere idea; multiple scenarios ran through her mind, but none of them made sense. Deep down, basic logic told her that Twilight and Luna must have had a father. It was so obvious, yet, she hadn’t seen that.

Celestia Solaris wasn’t the pure, flawless embodiment of the sun as some of her subjects painted her. No, she wasn’t a virgin; she was a normal mare with her share of experience in the world. She’d had plenty of partners throughout her immortal life, but somehow the thought that she would actually make the decision to start a family with one of them was beyond her comprehension.

Perhaps you are just befuddled by the fact that you, the immortal Princess of Equestria, loved someone enough to bear their children. Reveling in the irony, her conscience chose her niece Cadance’s voice in order to express its contempt. Not such a normal mare now, if you think yourself above such petty things like love.

But she wasn’t above love. In fact, she was under its irrational laws just like anybody else. She loved those ponies so much that the thought of having children—mortal children that would die just like their mortal father—broke her heart. Celestia was just a pony, after all, and the pain of loss affected her just as much as any other, perhaps even more so, given her sheer lifespan.

“Princess…” Sunset said, interrupting the princess’s thoughts. “I… I know how you’re feeling, and—”

“You do not, Sunset Shimmer. You cannot possibly know how this feels,” Celestia whispered, falling on her haunches. The smaller mare cringed at the harshness of Celestia’s voice, yet she sat down beside her, providing as much comfort as she could. 

“You’re right, I don’t know how it feels…” Sunset said after a moment of brief hesitation. “But I don’t need to understand to help you out.” Celestia stood unfazed by Sunset’s statement, the alicorn’s multicolor mane covering her face like a little filly’s would. “Let me in, Tia. You don’t have to go through this on your own.”   

What a wonderful mare you’ve become, Sunset, Celestia thought, taking a deep breath. She had forgotten how support felt; a thousand years without Luna—her only true friend and confidant—made her forget what trusting someone felt like. Even after her return, she couldn’t help but notice how deep down, some part of their relationship was… broken, as if Nightmare Moon had changed not only Luna, but Celestia as well. 

She thought about her other relationships: Cadance, Twilight… She couldn’t help but wonder if she had alienated them as well, keeping the facade of immortal Princess of Equestria on even for those close to her. She wasn’t allowed to fail, she wasn’t allowed to cry, she wasn’t allowed to feel. Celestia had kept her mask on for so long that she needed an interdimensional occurrence to help her realize that she wasn’t alone.

Sunset used her magic to move the strands of Celestia’s mane that obscured her face, amusing the goddess who let out a weak but nonetheless healthy chuckle. Unknowingly, Sunset had taught her more than a thousand years of experience could. As they rose from their position on the ground, Celestia scooped up Sunset in a bear hug, one which the unicorn accepted whole-heartedly. “Thank you, Sunset,” she said, three small words that meant everything for Sunset.

“It’s nothing… I’m just helping out a friend,” Sunset replied, burying her face in Celestia’s warm fur.

Both mares cherished the much-needed embrace, and while they knew everything was far from okay, they had taken a step in the right direction. It was undoubtedly a precious moment, but sadly, those don’t last forever. 

“Princess, Sunset! The girls are here, should we—” Applejack called from the farmhouse, until she took notice of the mares’ heartfelt moment. “Am I interrupting?” 

“Not at all, Applejack. We were just… having a nice chat,” Sunset replied, fixing her mane. 

Raising an eyebrow at her friend’s response, she awkwardly nodded. “Alrighty then…”   

Sunset gave Applejack one last reassuring smile before turning once again to the Princess. “Maybe we should go back inside? I’m really looking forward to tasting that stew of yours.” 

Celestia sniffled loudly, staring dumbly between Applejack and her student. Despite her runny nose and bloodshot eyes, she composed herself as best she could. “I think that would be nice,” she said meekly, ignoring the earth pony’s piercing gaze.

Both mares quickly turned tail and ran inside the farmhouse, Applejack regarding them with a quizzical smile of her own. “Silly mares,” she said, shaking her head as she followed them back inside. The food was ready, and she wasn’t going to deal with her friends’ antics on an empty stomach.





Inside the farmhouse was a completely different story. Having arrived with Rainbow Dash and Rarity, along with the quintet of fillies who had brought their so-called decorations, Pinkie Pie had declared their little party ready to go. The only thing missing, of course, was the guest of honor herself.

“Why are they taking so long? I’m starving!” Rainbow Dash groaned, begrudgingly arranging dishes and silverware under the watchful eye of a… mildly peeved Fluttershy.

“Rainbow, that’s not very nice!” the yellow pegasus admonished her, placing a large bowl of salad on the table. “And you’re doing it wrong; the forks go on the left.” 

“Exactly, and the cutting edges are always facing the plate,” Rarity said, scoffing at the aforementioned pegasus’s eye-roll. “Darling, it’s simple etiquette. You have heard of ‘class’ somewhere, have you not?”

“Of course I have! Class is my middle name,” Rainbow said, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she rearranged the cutlery in their desired positions. 

“I thought it was ‘Danger,’” Rarity responded with a smirk.

“Actually, it’s—Oh! Girls, please be careful with those pictures! Applejack would get really mad if you broke them,” Fluttershy said, chiding the little culprits with a half-stern-half-worried stare.

“Sorry Fluttershy!” Twilight apologized, her little wings flapping about as she applied the finishing touches to the banner hung on the ceiling. “And done!”

Her sister tilted her head in thought. “You sure? I think it’d look better a little bit to the left.”

“No, no, to the right, Luna,” Scootaloo interjected from the table.

“Scoots!” Twilight yelled, flustered.

“If you lowered it just a tad…”

“Not you too, Sweetie.”

“…or up a few inches…”     

“Really, ‘Bloom?

“We’re just saying what we see, Twi,” Luna said, shrugging her shoulders along with her friends.

“This is the third time I’ve adjusted it,” Twilight complained, flapping down and sitting beside her friends. “If you want to move it again, you go up and do it. I’m tired.”

Luna face-hooved, glaring at her sibling. “I would have, but someone insisted that it had to be ‘perfect.’”

“She got you there, Twi,” Apple Bloom said, laughing at the sibling squabble that was much akin to her own with Applejack. 

“I think it looks nice where it is,” Pinkie Pie chimed in, as she walked from the kitchen carrying a tray of cupcakes on her back.

“Thank you, Pinkie… at least someone appreciates my hard work,” Twilight said, smiling proudly.

“It is a bit high, though.”

“Argh!”

“Told you,” Luna said, smirking at her sister’s frustrated groan, while enveloping the banner with her magic. “Now, watch and learn, li’l sis.”

Twilight fixed Luna with a deadpan stare. “I’m older than you.”

Luna shrugged. “Meh.”

Twilight smacked her head on the dining room table. “Why do I bother?”

Passing the fillies, Pinkie Pie responded, “You’re a stickler for perfection?” 

“I was being rhetorical!”

Promptly ignoring the filly, Pinkie made her way to the table, where her friends awaited her with various disapproving frowns. “What? I brought dessert!” she exclaimed.

“Weren’t you supposed to watch them?” Rarity asked, not daring to look at Pinkie’s delicious pastries in favor of her recently started diet.

Pinkie Pie shrugged, placing the cupcakes on the table. “I was, but Applejack said that I would take care of dessert.”

“When did you bake those? You were with us the whole time!” Rainbow said. She immediately wondered why she even bothered asking those questions; it was Pinkie Pie, after all. 

“I didn’t bake these, silly! I have cupcakes stashed all over Ponyville in case of a cupcake emergency,” Pinkie replied, as if invading public space with random pastries was completely normal. 

“A-are those fresh?” Rarity asked, apprehensively staring at the potentially delicious confections.

Pinkie rolled her eyes as she took a bite of the nearest cupcake to prove the guaranteed tastiness of her desserts to the faithless fashionista. “Duh! I haven’t baked a single bad cake since Applejack’s ‘Baked Bads’ incident. And that wasn’t really my fault.”

“Rub it in, why don’t ya?” Applejack grumbled, suddenly entering the room as she glared at her fellow earth pony, who simply smiled in response. Sunset and Princess Celestia walked in behind her.

“About time! What took you so long?” Rainbow Dash asked. 

Two little fillies screeched, “Mom!” in unison, propelling themselves forward with their little wings to tackle their acquired target. 

The sadness leaving her eyes, Celestia enveloped the fillies in her yellow aura and brought them close, covering them with her wings in a trademark alicorn hug. 

“How are my little fillies doing? Did you have fun?” the larger alicorn asked, releasing her bone-crushing embrace just a little to allow her daughters some oxygen. 

“Uh-huh, we made that banner, see?! Isn’t it pretty?!” Luna exclaimed, pointing at the piece of cloth hanging above them. Their crude, yet cute drawings warmed Celestia’s heart. 

“I tried to make it a golden rectangle, but somepony wouldn’t let me,” Twilight said, directing an accusatory glare at her sister.

Luna rolled her eyes, annoyed at Twilight’s stubbornness. She was really bothersome with anything math-related. “It looked bad, Twilight, admit it!” 

“It did not! I used the golden ratio; it would have been perfect!” Twilight yelled, outraged that someone would actually try defying math. 

“Girls,” Celestia reproached them, looking between the two fillies, “don’t fight over silly things. Your banner looks beautiful either way.” Some small part of her protested at how easily she adopted her role in this situation, but by now it wasn’t surprising how little discomfort she felt at being referred to as ‘mother’ by the pair of little alicorns. Perhaps Celestia was finally letting her guard down, playing along with the stream of warm and soothing feelings in her heart.

“Your mom’s right, girls. You shouldn’t let silly things like this get between you, at least not before lunch!” Pinkie Pie said, ruffling the fillies’ manes from behind.

“Pinkie!” Luna exclaimed. “Where did you come from? I saw you go into the kitchen just a second ago!”

The mare rolled her eyes and pointed a hoof at the aforementioned room. “I did, but Rarity insisted she would carry the stew. She probably has some fancy-pantsy way to serve it.”

As if on cue, a braiser covered in a light blue glow maneuvered towards the table, followed closely behind by Rarity and Fluttershy. “The stew is ready!” the unicorn called, setting the pot down in the middle of the table.

“Thank Celestia! I’m starving!” Rainbow Dash cried, taking a seat in the nearest chair. When she noticed the Princess’s amused gaze in her direction, she said, “Uh… sorry, Princess. It’s just an expression.” 

“Rainbow Dash, please, where are your manners?” Rarity said, sighing at her friend’s bluntness. 

“At the end of my bowl, now gimmie!” 

Rarity glowered at her and responded, “And for that, you’ll be served last. Can everyone pass me their plates, please?” Rainbow Dash crossed her hooves with a huff.

“By the way, where are Granny Smith and Big Macintosh? Won’t they be joining us?” Celestia asked, noticing the lack of a blush on a certain yellow unicorn’s face.

“Well, Granny is playin’ bridge with some of ‘er friends, and Mac… Mac told me he had a date.” Applejack responded, not quite believing her own words. The fact that Big Macintosh, the quietest stallion in town, had a date, still escaped her comprehension.

“A date?” Fluttershy asked, hoping none of the present company would notice the sudden red tint in her cheeks.

Applejack nodded. “Yup, it was quite a big deal. I haven’t seen him so nervous since… Hmm, now that I think about it, I ain’t ever seen him that nervous!” 

“Did he say with whom?” Rarity questioned, berating herself for not being up to date with Ponyville’s latest gossips. It was her duty for the town!

“He wouldn’t tell,” Applejack said, directing a disapproving glare towards the eager mare.

“Drat!” Rarity exclaimed. Turning to her friends, she let out a nervous laugh. “Anyways… Is everybody served? Yes? Bon appetit!” 

“Gesundheit,” Rainbow Dash said, pointedly ignoring the unicorn’s glare.

As Rarity finally served Rainbow Dash her bowl of stew, Luna looked up from her own bowl, loudly chewing with her mouth open. “Wow! Thish ish amazing!”

“Luna, do not talk with your mouth full,” Celestia reprimanded her, hiding the grin forming on her face at such typical ‘Luna’ behavior. 

Luna gulped down her food before she continued. “Sorry, Mom, but this is delicious! The chefs at the castle aren’t nearly this good. Apple cooking is awesome!” she exclaimed, her sister nodding in agreement. 

Laughing, Applejack shook her head. “It’s nice for you to say that, but it was your mom who gave us that recipe.”

“Really?” Twilight said, wide-eyed, mirroring the expressions of her fellow fillies. 

“I didn’t know princesses could cook! Rarity, all your stories are wrong!” Sweetie Belle cried indignantly, as Rarity turned a nice shade of red in embarrassment.

“But, for real—Mom, you cooked this?” Twilight asked, cocking her head to the side, clearly confused. “How come you never cook for us?”

Celestia looked awkwardly at the accusing filly, sweat starting to form on her brow as the group of mares stared confusedly between the flustered alicorn and the fillies in question.

“But she said she’s cooked you pancakes,” Fluttershy commented, looking between the pair of fillies and the Princess, her brow furrowed in thought.

“What? No she—Ow! Twilight, you kicked me!” Luna cried.

“Did not!” Twilight protested as she looked under the table. “It was Sunset!” she gasped, glaring daggers at the amber mare.

“Me? Twilight, you must be confused; whatever would I kick you for?” Sunset casually said, wondering how she managed better acting skills than a thousand-year-old alicorn. 

Luna, still unconvinced, directed her best ‘princessly stare’ towards the unicorn. “Then who did it?” 

“Um… Dash?” Sunset said. She mentally face-hoofed when she remembered that the pegasus in question was at the far end of the table. All this stalling was useless; eventually they would need to tell the truth. There was no point in continuing to lie like this, especially to their friends. 

“What? I’m all the way over here! What makes you think you could possibly pull off pinning that on me?!” Dash yelled, annoyed at her friend’s evasiveness.

“Yes dear, what’s going on? You wouldn’t happen to be hiding something, would you?” Rarity asked, confirming her suspicions about Sunset’s and the Princess’s bizarre behavior. There was most definitely something important going on.

Celestia directed a desperate glance in Sunset’s direction; it was clear to the unicorn that the Princess was lost for words, and it was her job as her student—and as her friend—to help her out of this sticky situation. “I’ll… Uh… After dessert, please. I’ll tell you everything you want to know, but after dessert. Is that alright?” Sunset asked, her ears laid back as she worriedly analyzed her friends’ expressions shifting from anger and confusion to worry and concern. 

“That’s fine by me, y’all. I trust ‘em,” Applejack said with a smile. “B’sides, the food is far too good to let spoil.”

“Definitely,” Rainbow Dash responded, scooping up another mouthful of stew.

“Alright then, but you are not leaving without giving us a straight answer. And no ‘Big Mac’ answers like ‘Nnnope’,” Rarity said in her best drawl, earning a round of well-deserved chuckles.

The Princess sighed with relief. Hoping Sunset wouldn’t mind her making a remark at her expense, Celestia said, “I’m sure Sunset wouldn’t say ‘nnnope’ to Big Mac.” A spit-take from Rainbow and a fit of laughter cleared the mood at the table.

“Haha… Good one, Princess.” Sunset’s face burned bright red. You owe me big time, Celestia. 



> Confronting Coarse Companions
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

There was a saying in old Equestria regarding the influence of good food on one’s mental state. One cannot think well, love well, or sleep well if one hasn’t dined well. It’s only mostly true, sadly, Celestia thought absentmindedly while helping Twilight and Luna pick up the dishes with her magic. She had volunteered to do so against Applejack’s wishes, as it gave her plenty of time to think about her current situation. The food might have been delicious, yes. Still, that leaves us—well, me—in an extremely complex situation indeed. 

“I’m carrying that bowl, Twilight! Leave it alone!” Luna’s complaint pulled Celestia out of her introspection. The alicorn fillies were currently disputing the aforementioned bowl in their various teal and light purple auras. It’s weird how quickly one can get used to this, Celestia pondered, not quite intervening in the little sisterly feud. Nonetheless, I’m still their mother… kind of. I should probably act the part. 

Meanwhile, at her hooves, the argument continued. “You don’t have any focus, you’re gonna break it!” Twilight said, enveloping the bowl in her magic from its top as her aura snuffed out Luna’s at the bottom.

Luna gasped loudly, fumbling with her own telekinesis as she tried and failed to get the dish back. “Nuh-uh! Give it back!”

“Twilight,” Celestia called sternly, “give your sister a chance. I’m sure she can carry that on her own.” 

“B-but, it was gonna fall! I saw it, Mom!” Twilight whined, letting her aura fall as the bowl dropped lightly back onto the table.

“No it wasn’t! Shut up, Twilight!” Luna cried, once again trying to grasp her cargo. As her aura slowly appeared underneath the bowl, it gradually moved along its edges until it reached the very top and enveloped it completely. Holding her focus as best she could, Luna trudged towards the kitchen as if she held the weight of the world on her horn. 

Apparently, in this universe, even as an alicorn, Luna had immense trouble with even the simplest of spells, including levitation. However, despite her current lack of a cutie mark, Twilight still had a familiarity with magic that most fillies her age did not. 

Her musing was cut short when Luna let out a fearful gasp. Her aura around the bowl had weakened to the point that the dish wobbled back and forth, before winking out completely. Luckily for the filly, Celestia’s magic managed to catch the bowl before it hit the floor.

“See? She can’t do it! I was only trying to help!” Twilight said with a triumphant grin at Luna’s struggle.

“Twilight, everybody learns to use magic at their own pace. Luna is never going to learn if you don’t let her practice,” Celestia chastised, fixing the purple alicorn with a stern glare. 

“Yeah, Twilight, not everyone can be an egghead like you. Plus, I keep on winning our magic duels,” Luna said with a sneer.

Luna, it seemed, was a physical learner, content with learning through trial and error. But what kind of mother promotes magic duels between her daughters? The Celestia of this universe must have serious issues… 

Twilight blushed immediately, fumbling for words. “Er… Well… Sh-shut up!”

“Eggheaaad!” Luna sang, sticking her tongue at the flustered alicorn.

Twilight huffed, turning her back at the annoying filly. “Well, at least I don’t suck at magic!”

“You suck at everything!”

Celestia really didn’t have the brainpower to deal with this right now. First Sunset’s friends interrogating her, and now her daughters fighting over a simple bowl—things were not looking so well. “Luna! Twilight! Enough!” she yelled, levitating the fillies in her magic and placing them next to each other. “I will not tolerate this petty arguing. You two are sisters, and I expect you to act like it!” 

“She called me an egghead!”

“You said I suck at magic!”

“And you totally do!”

“Enough! I did not raise you like this!” Celestia shouted. Technically, I didn’t raise them at all. “Apologize this inst—”

“Is everything alright in here?” Sunset’s voice interrupted what could have been the first proper scolding Celestia had given in a purely motherly manner. Of course she’d reprimanded Luna and many of her students before, but this would have been something entirely different with entirely different consequences. 

Unfortunately for Celestia, Sunset’s untimely arrival robbed her of the opportunity. Fortunately for two little fillies, it freed them of their punishment. 

“Everything's a-okay!” Luna said, avoiding her mother’s ire as she ran past Sunset into the living room area, Twilight quickly trailing behind.

Staring at the fillies’ retreating forms, Sunset asked, “What’s up with them?” 

Celestia sighed. “Fillies,” she said, as if it explained the whole situation. “Did you only come to check on us?” she asked, turning towards the door and following Sunset out of the kitchen.

The unicorn nodded. “You were taking an awful lot of time. I know you might be a little bit nervous, but the sooner we get this over with, the better,” she said with a faux cheeriness that oh-so-perfectly described their feelings about their predicament.

“From what I can see, I’m not the only one who’s nervous,” Celestia added, bumping Sunset softly with her flank. 

“You have no idea.”

Eventually, but in less time that Celestia would have liked, they arrived at the farmhouse’s cozy living room, where Sunset’s friends, plus the Cutie Mark Crusaders and her daughters, would listen to her extravagant tale. What’s the worst they could say? Why am I so nervous? Celestia thought, placing herself on a couch that had apparently been saved for her. I could probably teleport to Canterlot right now and barricade myself inside my quarters. Nobody could question that! She took another look to the expectant frowns of the assembled ponies and calmed her breathing. You can do this. Just… spill the beans, as they say.

Her eyes scanned the crowd again. Stopping briefly on Twilight’s and Luna’s concerned expressions, she suddenly realized the obvious. They can’t hear this. If a foal knew that an impostor was occupying their mother’s place, they’d be devastated, if not scarred for life.

“Well, I reckon we’re all here. Whenever you’re ready, Princess,” Applejack said, straight to the point, once Celestia had made herself comfortable with Sunset Shimmer at her right.

The alicorn fidgeted in her spot, before whispering to her student, “I… Um, Sunset, I don’t think this conversation will be… erm… foal-friendly.” 

Sunset’s eyes widened in understanding, then she shot Applejack a discreet look, glancing in the fillies’ direction. 

With years of friendship helping her identify her friends’ problems, Applejack nodded sagely, perceiving the cause of Celestia and Sunset’s reluctance to speak up. “C’mon,” she said, calling the five fillies’ attention. “Why don’t I teach y’all how to buck trees? Don’tcha want to have an applebucking cutie mark?”

That seemed to do the trick for the Crusaders, as their ears instantly perked up at the mention of cutie marks. However, the two little alicorns weren’t so easily persuaded. 

“B-but, we wanna hear! I wanna help mom!” Twilight whined, her older sister vigorously nodding in agreement. 

It broke Sunset’s heart to see her favorite fillies in the world worried like this for their mother, but she also knew that it was better for them to be absent for this particular conversation. “Trust me, apple-bucking will be much more interesting,” she said, smiling widely, hoping that the girls would trust in her cheerful facade. 

Sadly, she failed to account for a certain response.

“You’d probably want to know yourself, too, huh?” Rainbow chimed in, her eyebrows waggling in a suggestive, yet unsettling manner. 

Sunset’s eyes widened in a matter of seconds, while her cheeks turned a familiar shade of red that would probably stick with her the whole evening. “Wha—WHAT?”  

With their concern suddenly forgotten by Rainbow’s comedic, if not crass, comment, the fillies cocked their heads in unison, confusion evident on their faces. 

“I don’t think Sunset would be strong enough,” Twilight mentioned offhandedly, turning to Luna for confirmation. 

“She’s not even an earth pony, she’d get tired in the first round.” 

Rainbow snorted, barely able to contain her laughter.

Sweetie Belle skipped excitedly, “Oh, oh, what if it’s a magic thing?”

Rarity frowned, directing a glare in Rainbow’s direction. She wasn’t about to teach Sweetie about… that, yet.

Apple Bloom frowned, looking confused. “Magic? You don’t use magic when you buck, Sweetie.” 

Fluttershy blushed profusely, hiding behind her mane as she mumbled something about ‘special occasions’ and ‘rare books.’

“She can use magic to make herself stronger,” Scootaloo replied.

“Ooooo,” Pinkie Pie helpfully added.

Luna huffed, grabbing her Earth pony friend by her shoulders. “I bet AB could buck way better!”

“OKAY, okay, okay, I’m stopping you right there!” Applejack broke in, covering her little sister’s ears with her hooves. “I think that’s enough.”

“I agree, dearest Applejack,” Celestia said, covering her mouth with a hoof to prevent more errant giggles from escaping her. “I don’t think poor Sunset can handle more blushing if she doesn’t want to end up in the hospital for the night.” 

The mare in question, for her part, sat unmoving with a thousand-mile stare. Her cheeks were long past the stage of what could be considered healthy, appearing more as if someone had dyed her face a deep crimson.

Applejack shook her head, standing up. “Alright you five, come along. Apple buck—” She paused, glaring at Rainbow and Pinkie’s mischievous smiles. “—the trees await,” she finished lamely. 

Suddenly, as if invoked by a mysterious force of destiny and causality, Big Macintosh walked through the threshold with his head hung low, bearing the look of a stallion that had had his hopes and dreams crushed by the cruel hoof of a mare. 

Sadly, neither the reason for Macintosh’s sudden arrival nor his crestfallen attitude were of any importance for Applejack, who instead saw the perfect opportunity to relieve herself of her burden. “Hey, look, Big Mac’s here! He’ll teach y’all!” the farmer said, pulling the stallion out of his stupor.

“Eeee-what?”

“You heard me, Mac. Take them fillies to the orchards, teach ‘em how to buck trees, would ya?” Applejack said, with a look that promised vicious retribution should he not comply with his sister’s ‘request.’ 

“Eeeeyup,” he muttered, hurriedly dragging the five fillies with him. At the end, we’re always at the hooves of mares, ain’t we? he thought to himself as he walked towards the orchard.

“Whew, glad that’s taken care of,” Applejack muttered, closing the door behind her. “Now, where were we?”

“I think, Sunset was about to tell you our story,” Celestia supplied as she gently fanned Sunset with her wings, the aforementioned mare still dazed from her ordeal. 

As if on cue, the unicorn jumped on the spot, her hooves flailing wildly. “Buh—WHAT! I-I’m not that kind of mare!”  

“Surrrrrrre you’re not,” Rainbow Dash snickered. “Glad to have you back, Sunny.”

Sunset glowered at the polychromatic pegasus, waving her hoof menacingly. “I’m going to get you back, Rainbow, I swear to Celesti-uhhh…” She shrank back, awkwardly smiling at the amused face of her mentor.

“Will you please get on with it?” Rarity asked impatiently. No one had given her a straight answer to anything, and she was simply dying to know what could possibly be causing so much discomfort to her sovereign. 

Pinkie Pie, mirroring Rarity’s impatience, shouted, “Yeah, what is going on?!” 

“Alright, alright, geez!” Sunset took a deep breath, moving closer to Celestia for support. “You may want to hold onto your withers, though. This is some story…” 

Some story indeed, Sunset, Celestia thought, wrapping a wing around her faithful student. What will her friends say when she tells them that the princess sitting beside her is not the Celestia they know? The Celestia they love? The Celestia that just this morning wanted to discuss her daughters’ father with her most faithful student? She paused as she realized what her own subconscious had just brought to light. Her daughters’ father… Was she married?

A husband… A partner, a lover…  I don’t remember the last time I had one of those… 

Well…  perhaps I do remember…  





> Intermission: A Thousand Little Love Stories. Part 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was the smell of burning flesh that awoke Celestia.

“ ...cess Celes… Prin ... ou alright?!” 

Her head hurt, and her wings ached. As her brain acclimated itself, she noticed a persistent stinging on her barrel, likely that of an open wound. That idea alone frightened her; alicorns were not wounded easily. That meant whoever did this had the weapons and the tools to face an alicorn princess, and if that were true, she couldn’t imagine the fate of the few that accompanied her. With that thought in mind, Celestia opened her eyes slowly, finding herself face to face with a pair of worried, amber eyes.

“Princess…” The feminine voice sounded young. Too young to be fighting, at least, Celestia thought. As she slowly tried rising from the ground, a sharp pain in her abdomen made her pause her careless attempts. “You shouldn’t do that. It… it’ll get worse.”

Celestia looked around, taking in the nightmarish sights of nearby corpses—gryphon and pony alike—as well as discarded weapons reflecting the glowing moon above, where the face of the mare in the moon glared down at her. Your fault, it said, and Celestia could not deny that statement. With all the strength she could muster, she glowered at the gryphon before her. “What happened here?” the alicorn asked, her voice firm, yet tired. 

“You don’t remember?”

She thought for a moment, trying to recall the actions that led her here, but a sharp pain in the back of her head made her pause. What have they done… “What happened?!” Celestia repeated, her wings rising with barely contained anger.

Though the gryphon did not look away, she fidgeted on the spot, visibly uncomfortable at what she was saying. “There was an ambush… We were no match for the surprise attack.” She gulped, then added, “I think… I think we’re the only ones left.” 

The alicorn paled, her figure visibly slumping under the weight of the revelation, adding more lives to her large, ongoing body count. It was unfair for her ponies to have to suffer the horrors of war; so many lives should not have been wasted like that.

The Emperor, Celestia thought with disdain. Surely this was that old bird’s doing, if not that council of his, if they are willing to betray their own kind just to accomplish a simple-minded goal. Peace with those barbarians is nigh impossible. “I understand now why gryphons cannot be trusted,” she murmured. Her anger had burned out, leaving her voice hollow. “Murdering their own kind and—” 

“We didn’t… gryphons wouldn’t do this!” the young gryphon shouted, livid. Being honest with herself, this was the first time Celestia had given more than a mere glance to her companion. Her amber eyes and black feathers complemented her silvery fur nicely, even if her short, yet toned frame currently shook with anger and exhaustion.

If she weren’t so tired, I could make her shake from… no. Perhaps in another lifetime… This was not the moment for such crude thoughts. She had more important things she needed to keep in mind, figuring out what happened here being number one on her priority list. “What happened here, then? Who is responsible for this cruelty?” 

“We’ve had issues with…” The gryphon paused, wondering if she should be talking with such liberty to the ‘enemy’ commander before shaking her head with a sigh.  “...rebels. There are some who want this battle to continue. Those weren’t soldiers! As surprising it may sound, Your Highness, most of us want this peace as much as you ponies do,” she said with disdain, before collapsing on the ground beside Celestia, the weight of her situation crashing down on her.

Celestia couldn’t help but agree with the gryphon’s words. As she carefully attempted to stand again, her legs and barrel protested, but eventually she accomplished the seemingly impossible task. She found the remains of her armor lying beside her; noticing various patches of torn cloth around her body, she realized the gryphon must have taken them off to treat her wounds. “Thank you,” she said, the gryphon barely acknowledging her gratitude, “For treating my wounds, that is. It was… kind of you.”

From her spot on the ground, the soldier sighed, hugging her wings close to her body. Deciding not to press a conversation, Celestia turned towards the wreckage in front of her. Her ponies deserved a proper funeral to honor their bravery, and she wasn’t going to leave them out in the open like mere animals. 

She moved towards the closest body, that of a pegasus stallion she recognized as her evocati, Zenith Blade. She still remembered his face full of youthful enthusiasm at the battle of Ironback mountains; now, almost twenty years later, there he lay at her hooves, disfigured beyond recognition.  

Holding back the few tears that managed to break her stern facade, she mumbled a prayer to the alicorns above, lighting up her horn with fire from the sun itself, before her magic suddenly fizzled out with a sharp stab at the back of her head. Worried, she patted the affected area, noticing the recognizable moisture of blood leaking from her skull. With such a serious wound, she wasn’t surprised that she couldn’t use magic.

“I tried to clean the cut, but I couldn’t find a sizable piece of cloth to cover it; I used what was left of my supplies on your barrel before I found the wound on your head.”

Celestia absently shook her head, turning around to find the soldier regarding her curiously. “What is your name?” she asked, surprising the gryphon with the simple question.

“I-I’m Astrid—er, Second Lieutenant CRN Astrid Kraus, Your Highness.” 

Wait… CRN? A nurse? It was only then that Celestia finally noticed the red cross strapped around Astrid’s upper arm. How did a mere nurse endure where battle-hardened veteran soldiers perished?

“Astrid Kraus…” Celestia said thoughtfully, before regarding the gryphon with a critical stare, “How did you survive? Did the attackers spare you?” 

Seemingly taken aback by the Princess’s question, Astrid looked down at her claws, suddenly trembling as she fumbled with her words. “I-I… I’m not a soldier, Princess! I ran away! I-I’m sorry, I ran!” Tears now ran unrestrained down her face as her voice gained volume, and her breath became laboured. “And… And they, they’re all dead! Egor is dead! Alys is dead! Because of me! I couldn’t help them! They all died! I-I don’t—I don’t want to die…” 

Celestia limped towards the distressed gryphon. She may have had experience in dealing with the pain of loss, but she couldn’t expect the same from a second lieutenant, let alone a nurse. She wrapped a wing around Astrid’s frame, whispering soothing words in the hopes of somehow alleviating the pain. 

With only the steady movement of the moon above her, Celestia pondered her situation, while providing as much warmth as she could to aid Astrid’s descent into slumber. What a turn of events—once enemies on the battlefield, now huddled together in the aftermath of a gruesome massacre. Perhaps ponies and griffins weren’t so different; there wasn’t any reason for them to live at war. I’m going to fix this, Celestia thought to herself, a simple mantra not unlike the promises she mumbled to Astrid. 

Eventually, the alicorn felt the pull of her celestial body in the heavens. Morning was fast approaching, and she would need to lower the moon shortly. Her wounds were healing slowly but steadily, as whatever magic had been used to harm her gradually seeped out of her system. A few more hours, and she’d be able to teleport to safety.

Celestia looked down at Astrid’s sleeping form, comfortably nuzzling into her side. A small smile played upon her muzzle; she hadn’t been hugged like this in a while. Even the great Princess Celestia appreciated gestures of comfort like any other creature, especially in times of war; she wasn’t immune to its horrors. 

“Astrid? Astrid, wake up. I need you awake,” she whispered, rousing the lithe gryphon from her sleep.

“Hmm? What? Alys? It’s already my turn? It’s way too early... ” the gryphoness muttered, barely rising from her spot against Celestia’s barrel, the alicorn’s feathers too comfortable for the fatigued nurse to part with.

Celestia chuckled in response, carefully poking Astrid at the base of her wings; she knew full well how much of a sensitive spot it was for pegasi. “No, Astrid, it’s not time for your patrol yet, but I would appreciate it if you could help me here first,” she said.

Failing to recognize the voice she was hearing as one belonging to any of her partners, Astrid let out a cry of surprise, flaring her wings wide in fear. Celestia had anticipated this, and moved aside to give the gryphon time to gather her bearings. 

“I-I…” she stuttered, fearfully looking around the desolated field. “I thought this was just a bad dream,” Astrid sadly whispered, unconsciously scooting closer to the large mare.

“Will you be alright?” Celestia asked, briefly berating herself for having disturbed the gryphon’s sleep.

Astrid nodded. “I will, Your Highness, I just need a moment…” she said, closing her eyes as she took a deep breath. “You said you needed my help—what for? I-I-I mean, I don’t intend to be disrespectful, but… why?” 

“You’re not being disrespectful, Astrid, not in the slightest. The truth is, my magic is still weak, and I need to wait awhile longer before I can teleport us to safety. Before that, though… I need to do something… The souls of the creatures lost in this massacre must be given a proper rest,” Celestia morosely said. 

Astrid nodded gravely. “I… I understand.”  

It was an incredibly difficult task—carrying the bodies of the recently deceased, looking at their faces and seeing the fury, the anger, the sadness, and the fear etched forever in their muzzles and beaks. The memories were the worst; remembering each and every moment spent alongside them was enough of a torture. Celestia dared to say, even worse than death.

She’d had the same sensation every time she had to say goodbye to someone close. Sometimes that sickly feeling would creep up at night and invade her dreams with thousands of unanswered questions. She’d learned to face the unearthly interrogation, she’d learned to endure the pain, but sometimes the loneliness was too much to bear.

Celestia turned, encountering the sorry sight of Astrid cradling the dead body of one of her companions. Dried up tears matted her feathers as she whispered unintelligible things to the sleeping corpse. The alicorn’s heart shrivelled at the pitiful display. A young soul such as Astrid’s shouldn’t have been experiencing such sadness; it was simply unfair. 

She walked up to Astrid with a sympathetic smile, nuzzling the gryphon’s neck as she crouched beside her. “I’m sorry, Astrid,” Celestia said, knowing that more words would be futile, and less than that would’ve been disrespectful. Gently, she encased the motionless body with what little magic she could spare, before Astrid’s determined claw on her chest stopped her.

“It’s ‘kay,” she said, barely able to get the words out due to her sore throat. “She’s my friend, I need to do it.” 

Celestia bowed her head, acknowledging her decision as she walked closely behind Astrid towards the small patch of dried-up wood and grass she had prepared for the funeral. It was a simple thing, nothing flamboyant like the nobles’ burials back in Equestria.

“I’m sorry I’m not familiar with Gryphon’s burials, Astrid,” Celestia said abashed, as they laid the gryphon’s remains beside her companions. “I tried to make it as comfortable as I—”

“It’s alright, Princess. Our funerals are… a rather noisy affair. I-I remember Egor saying he wanted a great feast and a loud parade when he… when h-he—” A bitter sob interrupted her remembrance, along with the hot tears stinging her already-tired eyes; in an instant, Celestia was beside her, wrapping her wing around the gryphon’s shaking frame.

After a few minutes of frantic sobbing, Celestia lightly nuzzled the gryphoness’s head. “It’s time, Astrid. I’m afraid we can’t delay this any longer,” she said, an eerily calm counterpart to Astrid’s distraught form.

The alicorn lit up her horn, ignoring the throbbing pain in the back of her skull. Turning to Astrid for confirmation, Celestia fired up an ember directly at the base of the funeral pyre. The dead grass ignited, and the flame slowly grew into a blaze that would eventually consume the whole structure, leaving behind the ashen remains of mothers, daughters, fathers, brothers, and sons who perished by the vicissitudes of war, and whose souls would forever linger within their hearts. 

“With honor, thou hath reached the peaceful pastures of the Elysian fields. May thy souls find everlasting rest. I promise to thee, that I will watch over thy descendants until my last breath. May harmony guide thy way.” Celestia hadn’t given the olden eulogy to the dead in battle in over a hundred years, but it seemed to fit the grim occasion. With blazing flames consuming the wooden pile, her gaze moved towards the dejected form of Astrid. “Do you have anything you wish to add?” she asked.

“I… I don’t know. I’ve never been one for words…” Astrid sighed, looking at the flames. “I… I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to help you. I’m sorry for always being a burden to you all. I’m… I’m sorry for dragging you down… even though you always said it was ‘no big deal’. I don’t want to go back… What am I going to say to your mother, Egor? How am I going to explain to your brothers that you died because of me… I-it’s just… It’s not fair!” Astrid cried as she broke down into a fit of sobs. 
 
“It’s alright…” Celestia whispered soothingly. She knew that her empty words would do nothing to alleviate Astrid’s sorrow, but she said them nonetheless, for there was nothing else she could do. “It’s going to be okay.”

“No it’s not! It’s not going to be okay!” Astrid screamed, pushing the alicorn away with all the strength she could muster. “Look at me! I can’t even stop crying! I’m a wreck…” She trailed off, panting from both anger and exhaustion.

Celestia had seen the pain of loss in many other ponies through the ages, and she knew it could take plenty of forms. Anger, sadness bordering on crippling depression, and sheer self-loathing for those deep within the grasp of guilt. Still, she could never call herself an expert on the subject; everybody was different in their own way, and as individuals, they faced tragedy in diverse ways.  

Nevertheless, Celestia could relate to the profound remorse the young gryphon was feeling, and she knew firsthand what it could do. “You are not at fault, Astrid,” she murmured, her eyes never leaving the makeshift pyre. 

“You think so? Well, what if I’d… if… What if I had stayed? Would things have been different?” Astrid asked weakly, fidgeting with her claws. “Maybe if I had fought—”

“If only it were so simple, Astrid,” Celestia interrupted her firmly with a frown, making Astrid cower in apprehension from the sudden change of mood. “Those ‘what if’s’ you so wistfully suggest—they are not going to give your friends peace. It’s impossible for you to live your life with such a weight on your back… Trust me, I would know.” Celestia looked at Astrid with stern eyes. “And believe me, you do not want to.”

Astrid took a deep breath, shifting uncomfortably under Celestia’s gaze. “I-I… What should I do? What am I supposed to do?” she feebly asked, alternating between the alicorn’s intense features and the burning, motionless bodies of her friends. 

The lingering anger in Celestia’s glare died out with a melancholic sigh. “I cannot tell you what to do; you’ll have to figure that out yourself.” A lone tear fell down her cheek as her eyes adopted a mournful glint. “I can only tell you that it is not an easy road, but then again, few paths in life are.

Astrid’s fur bristled in dismay. She felt like a hatchling being scolded by her elders. Then again, it was difficult not to feel like that in front of such a commanding presence. Princess Celestia seemed to have all the answers, seemed to be the perfect princess the ponies worshipped, but being this close made her see small indents in her apparently immaculate facade.

“I… I guess an immortal life must have its fair share of regrets, too.”

Celestia let out a mirthless chuckle, taken aback by Astrid’s question. “I’ll admit I’ve had a few over the years, but I believe I’ve moved past them.” 

“You have?” Astrid dubiously asked, though Celestia’s raised eyebrow made her consider her choice of words. “I-I mean, y-you seem to be—” 

“Compunctious?”

“I was going to say sad, but that works, too.” The gryphon shrugged, offering a sympathetic smile, for once devoid of tears.

Celestia paused for a moment, her gaze wandering to the lunar orb still up in the sky. She had been entranced by her conversation with Astrid, and thus, the hours of dawn had already come and gone. The mare in the moon's eye glinted curiously, perhaps awaiting her response. “I think there are some things I cannot forget no matter what I do. Moving on doesn’t always mean forgetting; you should know that. Sometimes moving on means to be at peace with the decisions you’ve made.” 

“But… do you regret making those choices? Do you ever want to—”

“Sometimes…” Celestia interrupted her, somehow knowing the direction in which Astrid’s thoughts were going. “Sometimes I would like to rewrite what I’ve done and change the past, but there were choices I had to make, and horrible things would have happened had I not done so. Similar to your actions, I suppose. If you had died here, I might be gone, too,” she said, motioning to her wing. 

“What helps you press on? Well, aside from being an almighty alicorn?” Astrid asked, still coming to terms with Celestia’s words of wisdom. 

“While I’ll admit alicornhood is quite helpful,” Celestia explained jokingly, “plenty of things help keep me going. My little ponies, for one; I would never forgive myself if anything happened to them. There’s also too much in this world I haven’t seen—you’d think with an immortal life you’d know everything. Then again, life is full of surprises. There is also… love,” she replied hesitantly, looking towards the flustered gryphoness.

“L-love? What about love?” Astrid muttered, trying to decipher the flurry of feelings brewing in her heart from a badly diagnosed case of Nightingale’s syndrome. She wasn’t an expert in falling in love, and gryphons were not as crafty as ponies in showing their feelings; she might have been misreading the signs of affection and kindness that the Princess would have given to anyone in her situation as something more, and that thought scared her. 

“Love is a powerful thing, Astrid. More than a mere emotion, love is a force of nature. It is what drives us and what defines us. You see what we are without love in our lives.” She motioned to the ashen pile behind them. “Truly a miserable sight.” Celestia’s wing pulled the gryphon closer.

“Do… do you have a loved one in your life?” Astrid asked bashfully, her wings fluttering erratically at her sides, and her heated blush doing little to hide her thoughts. 

“…I just might, Astrid,” she replied with a cryptic smile and a playful glint in her eyes. 

The gryphoness didn’t answer; she wasn’t completely sure as to what to say, and for once, the thought wasn’t scary in the slightest. Besides, words didn’t seem to do such an eventful day justice. She preferred to just enjoy the moment, and revel in the comfortable feeling of Celestia’s wing caressing her own. 

Eventually, after what seemed an eternity, Celestia pulled back. She took a deep breath and inhaled the night’s cool breeze. “I think I’m ready, Astrid. My ponies must be wondering why it is still night time; I don’t want them planning a retaliation on my behalf.” 

Astrid let out a proper chuckle; for the first time in a while, the threat of war didn’t feel as oppressive as before. She knew, by looking into Celestia’s eyes, that all this chaos and destruction was going to end soon. Still, something unknown stirred in the back of her mind, something she couldn’t quite put her claws on. “Will I… Will I see you again?” 

“I’m sure the date will be soon, where we can meet again. Not as enemies, but as friends… A-and perhaps… even something else,” Celestia said, smiling warmly at Astrid’s adoring eyes. 

“I… I’d love that.”

Celestia turned away from Astrid; her horn shone brightly, followed by a dull ache on the back of her head, a reminder of what had happened. She focused on the moon’s form, willing it down under the horizon. She wasn’t her sister, and her connection with the orb of the night would never be as strong.

But the sun? The sun was hers and hers only, and this daybreak was going to be special—dawn had always meant the start of something new, and this one was going to be no exception. Celestia closed her eyes as she felt the sun’s embrace warming up her insides, like the very first time she raised the celestial light, and she pulled, her wings lifting her up in unison with the sun as it danced above the skyline. 

As soon as she touched ground again and opened her eyes, the marvelous pink and orange hues of dawn filled her eyesight, followed by Astrid’s forearms wrapping around her in a hug. “It was beautiful,” the gryphon simply said. 

Celestia nodded her agreement, encasing Astrid’s form with her wings. “Shall we?” 

Astrid sighed contently, nuzzling into the mare’s fur. “I’m ready.” 

And with a flick of magic, both figures disappeared in a flash.
> Intermission: A Thousand Little Love Stories. Part 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Celestia wasn’t used to leaving the castle with such frequency, but Canterlot was such a new and thriving city, she couldn’t help but explore. The mountain served as a beautiful change of scenery compared to the dull Everfree citadel; the surroundings of the forest’s thick foliage made it resemble a haunted town more than a proper capital. 

By every means Canterlot was an exciting town; everyday inhabitants from all around Equestria arrived to help each other build beautiful houses and shops, and it seemed to grow a little more each day. Already, it was becoming a city fit for royalty.

Canterlot Castle was another story altogether. While it was certainly a feat of architecture by itself, as not many ponies would take on the challenge to build a castle hanging from a mountain, it still lacked the charisma of a proper palace; as beautiful as marble and gold looked, they would never be a fit replacement for the more gothic style of stone and… silver… 

She really needed to take her mind off… her. It wasn’t healthy to wallow in sadness and self-loathing. Luna might have been gone, but Equestria wasn’t, and her little ponies still needed her. As much as she hated to admit it, she needed to move on. Perhaps that was the reason she moved the capital to the once small, unknown settlement that would become Canterlot. 

The move wasn’t exactly planned. The weeks following her and Nightmare Moon’s debacle, Celestia couldn’t stop crying—she didn’t sleep, didn’t eat. How could she? Her own sister, her oldest friend, was lost, corrupted, trapped in the moon for a thousand years. Some days she couldn’t even raise the moon, forcing her ponies to the dangers of a completely void night, no moon and no stars to watch over them.

It wasn’t until the dawn of the first month since the tragedy that she showed her face once again in the court. With her filthy coat and disheveled mane, nobody dared to say a word, not even the haughty nobles who had cheered the moment Luna left Equestria. 

Everything seemed so different for her then; the same gardens she used to cherish were now gray and devoid of life, and her little ponies that she once had seen so pure and kind were brutal things, spoiled and uncaring. She couldn’t remember how many noble houses she disbanded that day; it was all very fuzzy in her memory, but she recalled clearly that it was the day she decided to move from the Everfree. She just wanted to get away from all the pain that came with those familiar walls.

And she finally found solace—after months of looking for a suitable place to call home—in a tiny village on top of a mountain, which would later evolve into the utopia known as Canterlot. She didn’t know if it was the scenery or the ponies living there that had convinced her to stay, but there she was, walking around the would-be capital disguised as a simple commoner to prevent causing a ruckus.

“‘Ey! You ‘dere! Ya wanna order somethin’, or ya jus’ gonna stare at de glass?” The rough accent of a stallion caught her off guard, as her wandering eyes whipped up to meet his gaze. 

Celestia cringed at the shopkeeper; the cakes she’d been eyeing looked really good, but she had already spent a couple of hours roaming about the city, and her absence was sure to cause panic in the castle. “Um, I’m running late, I don’t think I can—” 

“Nonsense, everybody has time for dessert. Take your pick, everything’s delicious,” the stallion said, gently pushing Celestia’s disguised form inside the store. Pointing to a gold-maned pegasus in the back, he shouted, “‘Ey Surprise! Serve dis mare somethin’ to eat, the house special if ya will!” 

Some business strategy, pushing your customers into your store, Celestia mused, getting used to the uncommon sights within. This particular bakery was completely different from the stores back in the Everfree; multiple tables allowed its customers to sit inside the store while serving them whatever plates they desired, like a tavern, but without the alcohol. 

What a wonderful innovation! Celestia thought to herself as she watched various ponies dressed in similar attire—workers she assumed—go to and fro between tables, carrying food the assorted customers devoured with gusto immediately upon delivery. 

Absorbed in her wonder, Celestia didn’t notice the arrival of the same pegasus from earlier, carrying a plate with a single small, rounded pastry. “A house special, just for you, Miss…” 

“Skies, Sunny Skies,” Celestia supplied, curiously staring at the confection the bubbly mare served her. “Erm… what is this?” 

The pegasus, Surprise, giggled at her question. “That’s the house special, silly. It looks simple, but it’s the best dish Mister Lockwood’s ever thought up.”

Celestia nodded absently while reminding herself that this was exactly the reason why she went out on these ‘adventures’ in the city. Her fight with Luna and subsequent depression had distanced her from her subjects. She wanted to reconnect; she wanted to forget the past. 

And if forgetting the past means eating this greasy atrocity of a pastry, then I won’t hesitate to do it, the alicorn in disguise thought, levitating the tart to her mouth before taking a tiny bite. 

Oh…

Then a slightly larger one.

Oh, Sweet Alicorns above! This is delicious!

Followed by devouring what was left of the confection in a single bite. 

By the olden gods… That was, something else…

“I take it you liked it?” Surprise asked, unmoved by Celestia’s embarrassing display. “Everyone’s like that the first time they taste them. Though you’re one of the few that’s cried.”

Celestia smiled sheepishly, wiping away the lone tear of awe that had escaped her usually stoic facade. “What was that?” she asked, licking the corners of her mouth clean.

“That, Your Highness, was a doughnut,” Surprise said, picking up the discarded plate. “You want more, right? One is never enough.” 

Celestia giggled at the pegasus’s straightforwardness; she felt ready to buy the entire store. If only she could get the chefs in the castle to prepare her this— “Wait, did you just call me ‘Your Highness’?”  

Surprise stopped dead in her tracks. Dropping the plate she was carrying under her wing, she hastily returned to the table and bowed in an awkward position at the befuddled alicorn’s hooves. “I’m sorry, Princess! I was never good with formalities—I didn’t mean to be impolite please don’t punish me! I just got to Canterlittle last month and—”

Noticing the patrons staring at them with various degrees of disapproval and confusion alike, Celestia used her magic to clamp Surprise’s muzzle shut while simultaneously setting the pegasus down in the chair in front of her. “Surprise, listen to me. I’m going to release my magic, and I want you to keep quiet while I explain everything. Can you do that for me?” Celestia whispered, trying to keep a straight face while the clientele silently judged them.

“Mhm.”

“Good.” 

Releasing her hold on Surprise’s snout, Celestia stared thoughtfully at the mare as she theatrically gasped for breath. “First off, how do you know it’s me?” 

“Well… I thought it was obvious, erm… Your Highness,” Surprise said, startling Celestia for the second time in a row. 

Celestia cringed, waving her hoof dismissively. “Do not… don’t call me that in public, please. I’m in disguise. And how is this obvious? No one should be able to see through my illusion.”

“I didn’t ‘see through’ anything. It’s your eyes; they’re a dead giveaway,” Surprise explained, smiling slightly in a comforting way.

“My eyes…?” Celestia said, the noise in the background growing seemingly quieter as she stared at the strange pegasus.

Who did she think she was? Talking like this to a Princess. Celestia didn’t usually use her title for her own gain, but when she did, she expected respect from her little ponies, not a nosey mare blabbing about what her eyes should or shouldn’t look like. “What is the matter with my eyes?” she asked, more forcefully. 

Surprise’s smile diminished slightly, turning into a sympathetic grin, as if she were explaining a terrible disease to a sick foal. “Your eyes are old, really old. As if you’re always thinking of something sad… like death. And you stare through ponies like they aren’t even there, as if they were nothing… I noticed, when Mister Lockwood was speaking with you.”

At once, Celestia’s anger evaporated. She couldn’t understand what the odd pony was talking about, but it still filled her with a peculiar sense of unease. Did her eyes look like that for everyone? Could she still care for her ponies with tragedy always lurking in her mind? Did her little ponies still mean anything to her? 

“What…? What do you—”

“SURPRISE!” someone screamed from the kitchen. “I don’t pay ya to bother me clients, either ya come back to de kitchen or I’ll fire ya!” 

“Sorry,” Surprise apologized to Celestia as she walked towards the kitchen with her ears lowered in submission. “I’m really sorry, Mister ‘wood. Won’t happen again. I’ll just go—”

“Wait!” Celestia said, putting herself between Surprise and the irate earth pony. “Mister, er, Lockwood. Can I borrow Surprise here for a moment? I need to talk to her about something of utmost importance.” 

“‘Utmost importance,’ eh? Not in a thousand years. ‘Dis mare right here might be one’a de best bakers I’ve got, but she’s as lazy as dey come. Always botherin’ me clients with ‘er silly songs, eating half of what she bakes and—”

“I’ll buy everything!” the disguised alicorn yelled suddenly, startling most of the customers from their conversations.

“Everything?” Lockwood asked uncertainly, looking as if his heart had stopped beating.

“Absolutely everything,” Celestia repeated, determined.

The old stallion glanced back and forth between the two mares and the kitchen, and when it looked as if his neck might break from the repetitive motions, he stopped suddenly, grinning like a foal who had just received the most fantastic gift for Hearth’s Warming Eve. 

“Make yourself comfortable, Surprise!” Mister Lockwood said, pulling over a chair and forcefully sitting the pegasus mare down. “Don’t forget to entertain our guest!” he called out, retreating into his kitchen, all the while skipping like a little colt. 

Celestia blinked at the energetic display, not expecting something like that from the elderly baker. She also was trying to come up with a way to explain the sudden bill of over five hundred bits in various pastries. It was a comparatively a small fee, taking into account the sheer size of the Equestrian reserves, but it would still raise some eyebrows in crown’s treasury. Perhaps a charity banquet? …For myself?

None of that mattered at the moment, though. Now she could finally do some serious talking with this strange mare.

“So,” Celestia started, turning around to face Surprise, “now that that is taken care of, what did you mean by—”

“Are you really going to buy everything? That’s… that’s so nice of you!” Surprise interrupted her with a delighted squee. 

“B-but of course. I wouldn’t ever dream of lying to one of my subjects,” Celestia replied, slightly confused by the pegasus’s sudden change of subject.

“That’s great! You know, Mister Lockwood moved here from Stalliongrad almost a year ago. His wife died there, and he wanted to make her dream come true, so he built this bakery from scratch. He told me he spent all of his savings here!” Surprise stated with a wistful sigh, her eyes adopting an almost romantic gleam. “Ponies don’t come as often as we’d like, and wheat is getting a bit too expensive, not to mention paying all of his employees, but this will surely help him—us, out. He is a really nice pony—a little rough around the edges, but he has a heart of gold.”

Celestia couldn’t help but smile at the adoration present in Surprise’s story. She made it sound like Celestia was hearing a fairy tale; there was just so much emotion in her voice, certainly a wonderful display. “You seem to care a lot about him,” she said simply, her smile instantly broadening with Surprise’s childish nod.

“Of course! I care about all the ponies here!” The pegasus pointed to a gangly looking stallion near the entrance taking the order of an elderly mare and her grandsons. “Look, Pizzaz over there, he always wanted to be an actor and he isn’t giving up. He always greets everyone with a huge smile as if he were presenting in front of a crowd! And Little Wing, she’s in the kitchen, has a beautiful voice. When we cook together she always sings the most amazing songs!” 

Then she turned to a burly brown earth pony cleaning the tables with an annoyed frown. “And that’s Dante. He’s always complaining about his job and acting all grumpy-frumpy, but really he’s just a big softie. He loves puppies, and I love making him laugh!” she said, laughing before adding in a hushed whisper, “But you didn’t hear that from me.” 

Celestia could almost feel the fire of friendship radiating from this mare. Her innocence, her excitement, the subtle gleam in her eyes whenever she mentioned a name. “Wow, Surprise, that’s… beautiful. I’ve never heard anyone talk about their friends with such… passion, with such energy. It’s simply heartwarming. What—” She paused, mulling over her words. She wanted to once again feel like Surprise felt. She wanted to see the goodness in her ponies’ hearts again. “Just what is your secret?” 

“Secret? It’s my special talent, silly!” Surprise said, pointing to the image of a rolling pin and a circular piece of dough sitting contently on her flank. 

“I thought your cutie mark was for baking? What does it really mean?” Celestia asked, before catching herself. “Is it alright if I ask that? I wouldn’t want to overstep.”

Surprise shook her head dismissively with a soothing smile. “It’s not a problem, really.” She took a deep breath, resting her head on her hooves. “It was a looong time ago… Well, not really. I was just a filly, maybe ten, eleven years old, and I was by the fields helping mother with the harvest—” 

“You’re a farmer, then?” Celestia interrupted. 

“The best kind of farmer: A rock farmer!” Surprise replied, her excitement befuddling the alicorn.

“Don’t you mean a… miner?” 

“Nope, a rock farmer! But we’re getting off topic here! Hush now and let me explain! Now where was I? Oh right, helping mother in the fields!

“So, since I’m a pegasus, I’m not strong enough to farm the whole day like my brothers do, but I can carry what we harvest and take it to the farmhouse; it takes me a while, though.

“Mother looked… odd that day. She seemed dimmer than usual, and her smile wasn’t as bright as it should’ve been. When we got to the barn, she told me to go back to the house, on my own. Since father and my brothers were still working the fields, I thought she was going to ask me to help her with dinner, so off I went like the good filly I was.

“But somewhere along the road, I just had the most unsettling feeling. My wings were flapping like crazy, my muzzle was itching, and my tail was twitching non-stop! It was the strangest case of heebie-jeebies I’d ever had! Something was telling me to go back to my mother and I did!

“What I found… wasn’t pretty.”

Celestia bit her lip, anticipating the answer to her question. “Was your mother… dead?”

“What?! Oh no, dear Celestia no! Erm… Is it okay if I say that ‘dear Celestia’ thing? Seeing that you kinda are Celestia and—” 

“It’s okay. Now, you were saying?”

“Oh, right. No, she wasn’t dead; my mother was leaving us. She had packed up her things and was planning to leave that same night while my father worked. When I saw her there, she started to cry. She hadn’t planned to see me like that. I didn’t know what to do, so we talked. Well, more exactly, she talked and I listened. 

“She told me everything—how she felt about my father, about us, about the farm… she was tired, Princess, tired of the same stale life. Don’t get me wrong, she loved my father, and she loved us, but sometimes you just feel you can’t continue anymore.

“After a while she stopped talking and we just stood quiet for a while. I really didn’t know what to do then, but I needed to cheer her up somehow. And suddenly, I had an idea. Well, it was the only thing I knew how to do at the time, and it sounded silly even for a filly my age, but I did it nonetheless. We went to the kitchen and I baked her a cake.

“It wasn’t anything big, just a simple mass of cooked dough. It probably tasted like nothing, but it made my mother smile, and not just any smile, a real, truthful smile. She hugged me tightly and thanked me for what I’d done. I had never felt so happy in my entire life; I had helped my mother! And with something I didn’t even fully understand!”

Surprise pointed to her flank, her eyes glinting with unshed tears of joy. “Then I saw this, and I understood that my talent wasn’t rock farming. I had the talent to help ponies find their happiness, and that’s something I’ve been doing ever since! Well, that and baking scrumptious cakes, but I think those two are related.”

Celestia just continued staring at the excited mare. She felt something wet running down her cheeks; she hadn’t noticed, but she had been crying through Surprise’s story.

She’d heard plenty of cutie mark stories; most of them were about impressive acts of bravery or massive displays of power, but something as simple and pure as this? There were only a select few occasions where she’d listened to a story quite like that one. “I-I… Surprise, that—” She felt a pulse of magic and turned her head upwards. It can’t be that late, can it? The sun called her again, and she couldn’t ignore its call; it was time for sunset. 

Celestia turned back to the pegasus with a strained smile, hurriedly cleaning up her cheek with the back of her hoof. “Surprise, listen. I need to go, night is coming soon. But could I ask you a favor?” Surprise nodded and Celestia continued without pause, “I know it’s not even finished yet, but could you come to the palace tomorrow? It’s silly… but I need your help.”

“Of course I’ll go, but… If I may ask, what do you need me for, Your Highness?”

“I need you to…” Celestia swallowed, not believing the words she was about to utter. “I need you to make me happy again.”

In an instant, Surprise’s carefree smile was replaced by a determined frown, and with a firm nod of her head she said, “I won’t let you down!”

Moving towards the exit, Celestia paused as she remembered something quite important. She turned around with an insecure grin. “And bring all the pastries I bought today. I wouldn’t want to disappoint Mister Lockwood,” she said, leaving the store in a hurried pace.

“…All of them?” 

And so, the pegasus mare went to the castle the following day. And the day after that. 

And the next day. And the next day. And the next day. And the next day…  

…And the week after that. She kept coming and going every day until every last dessert was delivered. She had a job to do, and she wasn’t going to give up until it was complete. 

Even if she had to do it one cake at a time.





“Just smile, Sunny Skies! I’ve heard that smiling can lead you to being happier, and not the other way around!” Surprise giggled, prancing like a schoolfilly over Canterlot’s streets with a frowning unicorn in tow.

“We’ve been at this the whole day, Surprise. My cheeks hurt, and I don’t know where you heard that nonsense,” Princess Celestia—or, at the moment, Sunny Skies—replied, massaging her sore muscles with a hoof. “What are we supposed to be doing anyway?”

“We’re walking!” Surprise sang, her random pattern of bouncing never stopping. 

Celestia barely held the urge to face-hoof. “I know we’re walking, Surprise, but why? And where are we going?” she huffed.

Surprise turned around, fixing Celestia with a glare of mock seriousness. “We’ve been seeing each other for weeks, Celestia, and you’ve barely talked about yourself. I don’t just sing a random song and make everyone happy; that’s not how it works. I need to know about you—what you like, what you hate, stuff like that.”

The alicorn sighed and slumped in place. Things already weren’t looking good. “I know, I know that I’ve been withholding information. It’s just… difficult for me, please understand that,” she said pleadingly, looking down. Surprise probably should just give up on me. Admittedly, it was a stupid request… ‘Make me happy.’ What was I thinking?

Seemingly aware of Celestia’s internal conflict, Surprise pulled the disguised alicorn into a hug, patting the mare softly on her back. “I know it’s hard for you, but hey! That’s why we’re walking! Talking while taking a stroll down the street is much better than your stuffy bedroom or your boring gardens.”

“Hey!” Celestia complained, pushing Surprise away, “I take offense at that! My room isn’t stuffy, and the gardens aren’t boring, they’re just…” 

“Empty?” Surprise provided helpfully.

Celestia glared in return. “Incomplete. Now…” She paused, trying to find the right words to continue. “What do you want to know?”

“Let’s start with something simple; why don’t you tell me about your friends?” Surprise asked, repressing her desire to squee at Celestia’s step forward. It was just a matter of time now—time, and plenty of doughnuts.

“My friends?”

“Yes, your friends! You can’t tell me that in your ten-thousand years you haven’t had anyone to call your friend,” Surprise said, jokingly poking Celestia in her ribs.

“Wait, what?! I’m not ten-thousand! I don’t look that old, do I?” Celestia exclaimed, pulling her mane down to her eye level, inspecting for any gray hairs that might appear. 

“I was joking, Grandma, calm down. Now, what about your friends?” 

That probably was the first time in Celestia’s massive lifespan that she’d ever been asked that question. Who were her real friends? There wasn’t any pony alive who she could bestow that title upon besides Surprise; her real friends were either dead, banished, or lost in the clutches of insanity, trapped in stone. “I’ve had friends, I know that. But that’s the key word—I’ve had friends. Time is not kind with friendships, I’m afraid.” 

Surprise got closer to the nostalgic alicorn, nuzzling softly into the crook of her neck. “Hey, I’m your friend, aren’t I? 

Celestia reciprocated the nuzzle and sighed. “That you are, Surprise, and I’m glad for that. I don’t know what I would be doing without you.”

“Well, I suppose that question isn’t good enough,” Surprise said after a while, breaking the hug. “What about coltfriends… or marefriends for that matter? You’ve had those, haven’t you?” 

“W-what?!” Celestia cried, her cheeks burning the telltale red of embarrassment. They were in the middle of the street, how could she be so crass about a subject like that?

Impulsed by Celestia’s lack of response and steadily heating cheeks, Surprise spoke up again, “Oh Goddess! You haven’t! Are you serious? That’s so cute!”

“Surprise! For my sake! Of course I’ve had of those.” 

“Then why didn’t you say so, silly?”

“It’s not something one speaks of out in the open, Surprise,” Celestia answered slowly, as if she were talking with a foal. “Why would you ask something like that?”

“You were getting sad again, and I don’t like seeing you frown. Did you know frowning causes premature aging?” 

Celestia rolled her eyes, shaking her head at Surprise’s silliness. “I’m starting to doubt the validity of your sources, silly mare. Still, you could have asked something different if you wanted to see me laugh.”

The pegasus shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know, maybe I’m just curious.”

“Really? Your questions always have some inner meaning, Surprise. You can’t be just curious about…” She cleared her throat. “That particular subject.” 

Surprise blushed, her coat doing little to hide her embarrassment. “Why? Is it weird?”

She can’t be serious! “N-not really, it’s just… unusual.” Not that I would really mind… 

They kept walking in silence for a couple of minutes. By Celestia’s reckoning and the number of ponies walking about their day, they should have been arriving at one of the various plazas of the city. Most of them were still unnamed, and lacked any sort of design or aesthetic. Not that the alicorn really cared about that; art was more her sister’s affinity…

“Surprise? Where exactly are we going? I don’t think I’ve ever been to this part of Canterlot,” Celestia said.

“You really don’t get out of your castle, do you?” Surprise tsked disapprovingly, her earlier indiscretion seemingly forgotten. “Keep that up and you might become one of those stuffy nobles you so love to complain about.”

“Goddess forbid!” Celestia laughed airily.

“You’ll see when we get there! C’mon, slowpoke, we’ll never make it before sundown if you keep that pace!” Surprise giggled, suddenly running away from the confused unicorn.

“I am not a slowpoke, your blood is just made of sugar,” Celestia grumbled, chasing after her charge. 

It was one of the few times Celestia had actually done something that required physical exertion, and she had to admit that perhaps she had to decrease her intake of Surprise’s doughnuts. Besides that fact, she also had to admit how little she actually knew about her city. She knew Canterlot was growing; ponies were arriving every day, and the requests for licences for new buildings were something common in her court. She knew that, she just hadn’t really seen it. 

And boy, it wasn’t what she expected.

Music. That was the first thing her brain registered, the soft and melodious notes of a violin cutting through the swarm of ponies roaming the square. There was a performer positioned in the exact center of the plaza, in front of a beautiful fountain with an unfinished statue sprinkling water to the mesmerized spectators of the impromptu display. The park itself was not as big as the ones positioned near the center of Canterlot, but its circular structure, with a multitude of dazzling white flowering trees, made it an imposing sight nonetheless. 

She attempted to drink in every little aspect of the square. From the creativity in its design, to its marvelous yet incomplete architecture, to the ponies—colts and fillies laughing alongside their parents, and couples simply enjoying the music. 

“How do you like it?” Surprise finally asked, pulling Celestia out of her daze. “I know it’s not the castle, but is—”

“Surprise, stop!” Celestia yelled, closing Surprise’s mouth with her magic. “This is wonderful, the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen!”  

The pegasus giggled, inadvertently laying a wing over Celestia’s back. “Really? Why’s that?” 

“It reminds me… It looks like…” Celestia fumbled for words, trying to find the exact phrase that could describe her inner turmoil. “Did you ever visit the old capital, before… before the betrayal?” She hated the stupid name some stupid ponies had decided to call that… event. If there was ever any betrayal it was on Celestia’s part. Her sister—Luna had only been a victim of her pride and obliviousness.

“The Everfree? No. I didn’t want to leave the farm that much. I only recently had the chance to, er, spread my wings?” 

“Well, there was a garden just like this one back there. I think whoever designed this plaza used it as inspiration.”

“You think so?”

“It does look somewhat similar.” She paused for a second. “Well… just a little. The Everfree was, for one, darker. The thick canopy of the trees overhead made it rather eerie at night, while still being quite the beautiful spectacle during the hotter months.” Celestia sighed, smiling softly at the fond memories. “You should have seen the light of the summer sunset falling through the leaves. It was something else.”

“It must have been; you usually don’t smile like that.”

Celestia caught herself, covering her mouth with a hoof. “I don’t?”

“Nope. Most of the time I don’t see you smile when you talk about the past. We must be making some progress.” 

Celestia nodded. “I sure hope so.” 

“So.” Surprise, as usual, changed the subject abruptly, disrupting Celestia’s train of thought. “Is this still the most beautiful place you’ve ever seen? Make up your mind, old lady!”

“Surprise! Stop calling me old!” Celestia chided jokingly. “I think it’s beautiful for what it really represents.”

“And what does it represent?”

Celestia thought for a moment. What did it really mean? She knew for a fact that everything ponies did—or any creature, for that matter—had some sort of ulterior meaning. Sometimes that meaning was found closer to the surface, while with others you needed to dive deeper to discover what lay within. 

Embarrassingly enough, this time she couldn’t come up with anything deep to answer with. “Something new, perhaps?”

“‘Perhaps’? Don’t you know?”

You’re going to be the end of me, I swear… “It could mean plenty of things, Surprise. What do you think?”

“Hmm…” she mumbled, sticking out her tongue like a foal. “How about… you’ll only find beauty if you look for it?”

“Really? Did you steal that phrase from a book?”  

“Maybe! You’ll never know!”

Celestia stifled a giggle with her hoof; Surprise’s antics were always welcome. “Did you take me all the way over here just for this? We should do this more often.”

“Well… That was the first reason. You need to get out more! The other reason… well…”

“Well…?”

“I just think this place is… perfect for a date…”

“Perfect for what?” 

“Close your eyes!”

“…What?”

“Close your eyes! C’mon, don’t you trust me?” Surprise asked, her adorable pout and wide eyes puncturing through Celestia’s defenses. 

“I… I do trust you, Surprise… it’s just—”

“Just close your eyes, please?” 

Celestia sighed, but did as she was asked. What has gotten into this mare? she thought, mentally rolling her eyes. To go from bubbly and oblivious in one moment to shy as a mouse the next… What could possibly be so— 

Is she…  kissing me… ? Her eyes shot open, encountering the soft fuzz of Surprise’s ivory muzzle, a light blush adorning her features as her lips shyly caressed Celestia’s own. 

She IS kissing me! A part of her mind scrambled to pull away from the other mare’s affection. However, that thought was promptly smashed and burned to ashes by the heat on her cheeks and the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. 

Sooner than Celestia would’ve wanted, Surprise pulled away, her ears and eyes downwards, as if expecting the alicorn to lash out in anger. “Surprise…” the pegasus said weakly, looking everywhere but to Celestia’s face.

“Surprise, I… What… Why…?”

The dam burst open. “I’m sorry, Celestia! I know it was wrong, I shouldn’t have done that! It’s just that I think that you’re a wonderful mare and you’re so kind and beautiful, and smart and funny and it’s sad that you can’t see that because you’re always thinking about the past and I just hate seeing you like that every time because I love you and—”

“You… you love me?” Celestia asked, her magic keeping Surprise’s mouth shut. She just couldn’t believe what she was hearing; how could Surprise love someone like her?

With Celestia’s magic dissipating, Surprise took a deep breath, calming her beating heart. “I… do, Celestia. You’re the most wonderfulest pony I’ve ever met! You’re so kind and brave and strong. Beautiful, too! And… and I know everybody says that, you’re the princess, after all!” She sighed, wiping the tears that escaped her with a fetlock. “B-but, these months… I think I’ve seen the pony nobody else sees, and I don’t want to stay away from that pony! I… I love your laughter and your smile, your real smile, the one you hide in court. I love when we eat together, I love when we joke together, I… I just—mmph!” 

A kiss gently interrupted the pegasus’s rant. Celestia didn’t need to hear anything else. Surprise had said and done more than enough, with certainty that had been the most pure and innocent confession she had ever heard. Slowly, the alicorn pulled away, while nuzzling the petrified mare’s neck.

 “Thank you, Surprise, I… I love you, too.”

“You… you do? For real?”

Celestia chuckled, tears of happiness rolling down her cheeks. “For real. How could I not? You’ve taught me so much, Surprise… Thank you. Thank you…”

Surprise pulled Celestia’s disguised form closer, relishing the fact that as a unicorn, she was the perfect size to cover up with her wings. “So, you liked my surprise?” the pegasus asked, her voice tinkling with joy.

“I did, Surprise. I loved it,” Celestia said, relishing in the heat radiating from the pegasus.

“Sooo…”

“So?” Celestia retorted, barely managing to stifle her laughter.

“Do you… want to eat something?” 
 
“I… I’d love that.”
> Intermission: A Thousand Little Love Stories. Part 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hidden from the spring sun’s glare under the shade of a large oak, two very different creatures lay down over the grass, enjoying the day in their own different ways. One, an ivory-colored alicorn with a bubblegum pink mane focused entirely on the book lying on her hooves as she carefully wrote using her mouth. The other one, a mix-match of several creatures—a draconequus—was dozing off on his back beside the mare, his off-white mane lazily covering his eyes from the scarce sunlight that wasn’t obstructed by the leaves and foliage. 

It was quite a peaceful scene. A light breeze flowed gently through the valley while birds happily sang their beautiful songs, like an ode for the day’s magnificence. 

Everything was perfect. 

That was a lie.

“Discord?” 

“…”

“Discord.” 

“…”

“Discord! Keep quiet! Your snoring is driving me crazy!” The alicorn startled the draconequus awake, scaring a few birds in the process.

Discord rubbed his ear with his lion paw, sleepily glaring at his companion. “Sheesh, you didn’t have to yell, you know. Is this what Platinum taught you two?”

The mare rolled her eyes, closing her book in annoyance. She wasn’t about to explain the complexities of what dear Platinum called ‘How Royalty should behave.’ “Something like that. You should see Luna. She does it all the time back at the castle.” 

“That sounds like fun.” 

The alicorn snorted, shaking her head. “Your definition of fun and mine are two very different things.” 

“That’s because you’re a stick in the mud, Celestia.” 

“And you’re a good-for-nothing lizard, Discord.” Celestia smirked, her wings fluffing at the playful banter. 

Discord smiled, rolling onto his side to face Celestia. “You’re getting better, Sunbutt. A few more years and you might be able to take me on.” 

Celestia giggled, “Yeah, right.” She laid her head on her hooves, the smell of the fresh grass making her sigh contentedly. 

Most of the days she spent with Discord were like this; she could just relax and enjoy life for once. No frustrating lessons, no annoying little sisters. Just her and her annoying draconequus of a friend. Here she wasn’t the alicorn ponies idolized, she was just Sunbutt.  

“So, was there a reason for waking me up, besides hearing my beautiful voice?” Discord asked, raising a brow.

“You snore like a cow, Discord. Why are you my friend again?”

“First of all, that’s speciesist—you know cows don’t snore. And second, because I need someone as dull as you to look even better by comparison.”

“Dull? You’re calling me, the exemplar of Equestrian beauty, dull?” she screamed. Then, in a poor imitation of a noble’s speech, she added, “I should have you beheaded!”

“Careful, Tia. Any more of that ego and you might not fit back into the castle,” he laughed, before noticing the book at Celestia’s hooves. “What are you doing anyways?” Using his magic, he took Celestia’s book from her hooves while flipping rapidly through the yellowed pages. “Whatcha reading, Rainbow Marshmallow?” 

Celestia gasped in distress, her wings flapping in agitation. “Discord! That’s my diary, you little—!” 

“I didn’t know you had one, Sunbutt,” Discord interrupted, his magic gently floating the diary to its rightful owner who accepted it graciously.  

“I didn’t, it was Starswirl’s idea. He said that writing what we feel is supposed to make us feel better and whatnot.” She visibly slumped at the idea, her wings going limp at her sides. “Luna’s entries are the best: ‘Dear diary, today Chef Windsor made me a daisy sandwich, it was nice,’” she said, dispassionately mimicking her sister’s squeaky voice. 

Discord arched his brow. “You read your sister’s diary?”

“It’s what big sisters do!” she said, making a dismissive gesture with her hoof. “What? Are you going to call me on that?” 

“Not at all, I’m actually proud of you.” 

She cracked a smile, amused at his apparent lack of moral compass. “Oh, shut up.”  

They stood in companionable silence for a while, both knowing enough of each other that words were unnecessary to express their feelings. Discord moved closer to the teenage mare, his chin resting on top of Celestia’s back. “You don’t feel it’s working, do you?” he said, feeling Celestia’s muscles tense in apprehension. 

“It doesn’t. It’s pretty stupid, to be honest,” the alicorn mumbled, her voice laced with frustration. “It’s… I…” She trailed off, once again resting her head on her hooves, as if the soft grass on her muzzle provided any comfort.

“Hey, it’s okay. I know Starswirl can be an ass—”

“It’s not about Starswirl!” Celestia yelled, her voice trembling with both fear and anger as she interrupted Discord, pulling herself up. “It’s not about him…” 

Discord sighed, shuffling closer to her. It wasn’t the first time she’d snapped at him like that; most of the time he’d deserved her anger. Everyone had a limit for annoyance, and he’d managed to push her limits more than a few times. However, this was the first time that he’d seen her so… fragile. “Then tell me, Tia. You know I care about you, tell me what’s wrong.” 

She pulled herself closer into his embrace, her head resting in the crook of his neck. “Everything is wrong,” Celestia said, not caring about her tears matting the draconequus’ fur. Everything was wrong, that wasn’t a lie. It was as if she’d woken up one day and everything and everyone were in the wrong place. She shuddered as Discord’s arms wrapped themselves over her barrel. She was terrified, she wanted to melt into his embrace and never leave. It felt like another reason to curse the impossibility of her heart’s desire.

“Everything is wrong?” Discord repeated, nuzzling Celestia’s mane gently.

“This… this whole being a princess is wrong,” Celestia mumbled. “I never wanted any of this, this horn and these damned hooves that can break through walls. I never wished for any of this to happen!” 

Her breath became more labored as she continued, many more tears falling from her eyes. “And Luna… little Luna, bless her heart… she loves this! She’s never known any more than this and she loves it. And she’s so smart; Platinum loves her and Starswirl is always praising her. Do… do you remember the winter solstice? What she did?”

“The night of the falling stars?” Discord said.

“Yes! The falling stars! Shooting stars, she called them! She did that, by herself! The whole night sky is her playground, and I… I have a ball of flaming gas that might burn everyone if I ever get angry enough.

“Luna is the real princess, not me. I don’t want this…”

Silence fell once more, perturbed only by the sound of Celestia’s soft weeping. Discord remained motionless, unable to find a way to comfort his best friend. The more he thought about what Celestia just said, the more her every little action made sense. She was completely scared of the position she was so suddenly forced to occupy.

Who would like to be a stick in the mud? he thought. He might have teased Celestia about the same in the past, but the truth was he felt unable to reconcile the image of the Celestia he knew, and the one Platinum and her entourage wanted her to become. 

Discord almost didn’t register Celestia’s crying suddenly stopping, as he was too occupied with his friend’s well-being.

“Let’s run away,” Celestia said, bloodshot violet eyes staring intensely at Discord’s own yellow ones. 

“Wai— What?!” 

“You heard me, let’s run away. I’m sure hippogriffs will let us stay with them. I wonder how they treat ponies there… Oh! And draconequui of course.” 

“Uhhhh…” 

“Of course, if that doesn’t work, we always have Zebrica. I’ve heard it’s a nice place, if not a little hot…”

“Wait… Celestia!”

“Or… I… I’m not sure we have any more allies…”

“SUNBUTT! Get yourself together!” Discord yelled, shaking the mare in his arms out from her panic-induced delusions, while at the same time admiring the irony of the situation. Any other time he would’ve gone through whatever plan Celestia had cooked up, especially if it implied leaving Equestria and the parade of bumbling idiots calling themselves rulers of the land. He was the spirit of chaos, and he didn’t answer to rules or rulers of any land… However, he also knew his friend; Celestia had known him ever since he was a little draconequus exploring the realm of entropy and she was but a simple pegasus trying to survive in the cruel winter of the windigos’ magic.

“What?! Don’t you want to run away, too?” Celestia asked, pulling away from Discord, whose actions were much more confusing than his usual chaos. 

“I do…” He cringed. “I did… I don’t know, Celestia. This isn’t you, not really.” He twiddled his claw and paw awkwardly under Celestia’s glare, not really wanting to cross his friend when she needed him the most. 

“What do you know?” Celestia said. Even through her bloodshot eyes and the matted fur of her cheeks, Discord could see the fury of the sun boiling underneath her words.

Instead of wavering, he returned Celestia’s own glare, defusing her anger with timely calm. “I know you, ‘Tia. You don’t run away; you’re too stubborn to do that.” The alicorn lowered her eyes, disconcerted by Discord’s unusual gentleness. “You face everything you do head on, Celestia. I’ve seen you do that a thousand times. Raising the sun, facing the nobles, facing the ponies. You name it, you’ve done it.

“It’s strange, y’know, being the voice of reason here. But even I know that you can’t run away, Tia. Not because of destiny or whatever nonsense Starswirl always says, it’s because that’s who you are. You don’t waver, you aren’t selfish, and you never turn away from someone in need.” 

Celestia fell to her haunches, her mane obscuring the tears falling in a steady rhythm. Discord silently sat beside her, pulling his arm over the sobbing mare, his longer torso allowing Celestia to rest her head on his shoulder.  

He chuckled, gently taking Celestia’s chin with his paw and guiding the mare’s eyes to his own. “Hey, who was it that befriended a poor, hungry, defenseless-yet-extremely-handsome draconequus when nopony wanted to help him?” 

“Discord!” Celestia laughed, her voice trembling slightly as she pulled away from the close embrace. “You are one silly lizard…” She paused, mulling over her words. “Do you… do you really think that much of me?” 

“Much more… To be honest, I’m pretty sure they need you. You know, Platinum, Hurricane, Puddinghead. They’d bring about another winter without you on the scene.” He grinned, his eagle claw running circles through her mane. “Plus… You’re not planning to leave Luna all on her own, are you?”

She shook her head, a sudden seriousness invading her features. “No. Not in a thousand years.” 

“See, you can’t leave Equestria. Not right now, I mean. Wait a couple millennia and get a replacement. Then I’ll go with you.”

Celestia laughed quietly, yet did not speak. The subject of immortality had always been a sore subject for her (and even Luna, the most adapted of the two) to speak of. Seeing Discord address the subject with such tranquility was somehow disconcerting. 

“Discord,” she sighed, leaning on his shoulder, “doesn’t it bother you? Living for eternity? Outliving your friends?” 

The draconequus paused; he’d never thought much about that. Not dying was one thing; he’d already come to terms with that fact with the various brushes with death he’d had through his short life. Living forever, however, was something else. He looked down at the mare in his arms once again, and the answer was suddenly much clearer. “I… I don’t know Tia. I don’t really think too much about that. I don’t think it matters, to be honest.”

“It doesn’t matter?! B-but Discord, you—”

“Hear me out, sun-horse,” he said, covering the mare’s muzzle with his paw. “It doesn’t really matter, because it’s there in the future. We live in the present. That is, today! I only care about this tree, this hill, this day, and you, Tia.”

Celestia pushed Discord’s paw away with her magic, flabbergasted by his uncharacteristic response, while at the same time ashamed at forgetting that Discord, in spite of his playfulness and overall careless nature, did in fact have a deeper side. ”That…how…? Did you prepare that beforehand?”

He shrugged, his serpentine form once again lying on the grass.

 “You really have an answer for everything, don’t you?” she mumbled, laying beside the draconequus, not quite calm and not quite in peace, but hopeful that with her friend and family, everything was going to be alright.

“I try, Sunbutt. I try.” 

Not a second had passed before Celestia turned and faced Discord, her brows furrowed, as if figuring out a complex puzzle. “So… You care about me?” she asked, her voice laced with some unrecognizable emotion. 

He paused, evidently confused by what seemed to be an inane repetition of his earlier argument. “Uh, of course I do? What are you blabbering about? I just said—”

Celestia silenced him with a wing. “I know, lizard, I know. I’m not talking about that…” she said, fluttering her eyelashes.

“What... ?”

The alicorn shook her head. Truly, draconequui are no different than stallions, she thought. “I’ll tell you when you’re older.” Suddenly, she planted a gentle kiss on Discord’s cheek, followed by a quick nip on his ear. “Bet you can’t catch me!” she yelled, quickly taking flight as she laughed airily at the sputtering draconequus.

Almost reluctantly, as if his touch could somehow erase the experience, his paw met his literally sun-kissed cheek, while immediately his muzzle turned into a deep shade of red and steam came out his ears. “C-Celestia? W-wait a second! W-what…” He paused, noticing that for once, she had managed to beat him.  

 “SUNBUUUTT!” 

When it was time for them to come together once again, after the pain, the sadness, and madness, both remembered their promise.