“SPIKE! You’ve got to help!”
Spike reluctantly struggled out from his bed and away from a dreamland of gems (and a certain pony who shared his interest in them). He’d been getting to a particularly heart-racing moment where the walls of the Crystal Caves had tumbled inwards, trapping him and Rarity inside… thank Celestia that Luna hadn’t walked into his dreams tonight.
Yawning, he shook his head clear of sleep and rubbed his eyes, only to realise it was still pitch dark outside. The moon was bright and heavy in the night sky, yet the lights in the Golden Oak library had been switched on to full brightness.
“Twilight,” he groaned, slightly annoyed at the rude awakening, “you need to sleep. You can’t be up all night studying again— “
He was met with the rather chaotic sight of a hyperventilating Twilight on the floor of the library. This would usually be an expected sight with a pony of Twilight’s temperament, especially near the due dates of assignments from her mentor. Yet as far as Spike could remember, he’d seen Twilight complete a friendship report yesterday after sorting out a spat between the Cutie Mark Crusaders.
Despite this, frayed red quills were scattered amidst heaps of books and overturned lecterns, splatters of ink staining the crevices of the wooden floor. The ladder lay askew, having fallen over, and all her previous files and even flashcards had been thrown about. It was almost as if Rainbow Dash had crashed in through the window again.
Spike frowned. It wasn’t like her to make such a mess. Even when panicked, the purple pony always stressed upon the utmost importance of organisation. But here she was, muzzle quite literally buried in a dusty pile of books as she burrowed through it with her hooves.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, concerned. And then sotto voce, “Didn’t you just make me rearrange the entire library two days ago?”.
Twilight popped her head out from underneath An Unabridged History of Equestria. Her usually impeccable mane was completely frazzled, the fringe ruffled by static and sticking out at all angles. Her purple pupils were rapidly shrinking to pinpricks, eyes twitching as she grinned a little too widely.
Oh no. He’d seen this look before.
“No!” Spike yelled. “Twilight, you’ve got to snap out of it! You’re not going to be tardy, you’re not going to be banished, you’re not going to be sent to magic kindergarten. For Tartarus’ sake, you just finished a report for Princess Celestia yesterday! You heard her the last time, she clearly told you she didn’t need a letter every week, and you’ve already got one!”
“That’s the thing, Spike!” Twilight yelled. “I don’t!”
“Oh, come on Twilight, it’s too early for this!” Spike sighed. “Sure, a report on how you taught them the importance of sharing by splitting a hayburger into three may not be the most interesting— or valid, as I’m pretty sure they were about to buy more— but it’s certainly better than all those ‘Want it, Need it’ shenanigans!”
Twilight glared at him, and he laughed awkwardly, but the manic grimace disappeared from her face.
“Yes, Spike, I finished the report.” she hissed. “Though as you very tactfully pointed out, it may not be the most engaging.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“Oh, Spike, it’s absolutely terrible, the princess is going to be so disappointed in me.”
“Twilight. What is it?”
“I can’t even bear to think about it, I don’t know how I could’ve made such a mistake…”
“Twilight,” Spike hissed. “Quit beating around the bush. What did you do?”
“I LOST IT!” she yelled, finally exploding, and then slumped onto the ground on top of a mound of unused scrolls.
Stunned, Spike looked down at the defeated unicorn.
“I had it all ready, and I was going to copy it out today in case I did lose it— but it’s gone. I’ve searched everywhere and I can’t find it.”
“Calm down, Twilight,” Spike sighed, relieved it was nothing worse. With Twilight and her overblown reactions, you could never know.
“What do I do, Spike?” Twilight said forlornly, looking up at him. “The Princess hasn’t heard from me in months. And I… I hoof wrote this report because I haven’t written to her personally in so long… not that it would matter.”
Spike noticed her shrink more into herself, the faintest blush appearing on her cheeks.
“Of course it matters,” he said gently. “You’re her star pupil, Twilight. She loves you in a way she loves nopony else. Don’t worry, we’ll find the letter. All we have to do is retrace your steps. I know I didn’t scribe this for you, and I don’t think you wrote it in the library, so if you went back to where you did write it…”
Twilight’s eyes widened slightly. Her attention trailed off from Spike’s words as she began to imagine the glow in Celestia’s eyes as she opened a handwritten letter from her pupil. The glow in her eyes whenever the Princess of the Sun looked down at her, her smiling eyes that Twilight secretly hoped were reserved just for her. When Twilight looked into those eyes she saw eternities of sorrow and experience, but also radiance and unbridled power. Those eyes set her heart pounding from awe, and lately, a feeling she couldn’t quite place. A feeling that followed her into dreams during both the day and night.
Twilight knew those feelings were probably just the product of intense admiration for the Princess (and possibly from her drastic need for approval, stemming from what she’d read about in a book about “parental issues”). But seeing the princess happy lifted her spirits like nothing else did.
She had to get that letter. Springing up and slinging on her saddlebag, she turned to the baby dragon.
“Search the library again, Spike. I’m heading to The Hayburger, I think I left the letter there.”
Spike waved her off as she raced into the velvet night and slammed the door behind her. Whistling, he walked back to his bed with no intent of searching for the letter. Twilight had already searched everywhere, so why should he?
Suddenly, his eye caught a long scroll strewn on the floor amongst the others. On the top, it was titled, ‘A Statistical Analysis on Sharing’. Though the paper was a different kind than what was usually used for letters to the princess, Spike sighed in relief. He picked up the letter and sent it to the princess in a burst of green flame, glad the search was finally over.
Then to ensure there would be no more Twilight-frenzied disturbances, he wrote a note: I found the letter, sent it to the princess. Pasting it to the front door of the library, he walked back to his bed and flopped down in exhaustion.
Twilight Sparkle pranced out of The Hayburger, the letter found and safely placed in her saddlebag. She’d have to re-write it as it was slightly splattered with grease from being left on a table.
She did feel slightly guilty for keeping Spike up on a futile search, but was in no hurry to go home. The night was beautiful, the canvas of stars a breathtaking work of art. Was it their gleaming brightness… or the fact that they seemed to be arranged in the shape of her mentor’s visage? She reddened as she began to stare longer upon it…
“Twilight Sparkle.”
“Ahh!” Twilight whipped around, to see the Princess of the Night on the path behind her, her eyes and mane glowing amidst the dark.
“Princess Luna!” she exclaimed, starting to bow, but Luna blocked her with a navy hoof.
“There is no need to bow, Miss Sparkle, for it is we who are indebted to you,” she said in her low, calm voice. She looked at her, eyes twinkling, “And perhaps our sister, even more so.”
Twilight’s eyebrows raised, as she opened her mouth to respond, but Luna continued on.
“Equestria is…rather full of dreams tonight,” she said slyly, sneaking a sideways glance at her. “And so we retire for a moment.”
Twilight looked perplexed, unsure how to respond, and Luna tried not to grin as she recollected a particularly passionate dream she’d walked in on involving her and Celestia. Her attempt to conceal her amusement was made significantly more difficult by the fact that she’d just witnessed a dream of a rather similar nature between her sister and the purple unicorn.
Oh, the boundaries and differences between them (not least the height difference), the way Celestia lately seemed increasingly disappointed with each passing day she didn't receive a letter, the slight tension that seemed more prominent than ever since the defeat of the changelings— it had all been leading up to this, hadn’t it? The way they couldn’t stop glancing at each other while Twilight Sparkle sang at the wedding— love was certainly in bloom between ponies other than the married couple. The way young Twilight is ogling the sky tonight…
“Tell me, what reason hast thou for being out at such an hour?” Luna asked, changing the subject to avoid blurting out what she’d seen right then and there.
“Oh! Uh, I misplaced a report that was for Princess Celestia,” Twilight answered, “I just went to find it and I’m heading back now to have Spike send it.”
Luna furrowed her brow. Hadn’t she just seen a letter being sent via the dragon’s flare as she flew over the library? She said as much to Twilight in confusion, watching as the pony’s eyes widened and her ears flattened in what Luna could only presume to be cold dread.
“Princess, I must take your leave,” Twilight gasped hastily, and fled.
Whatever feelings Twilight had about Celestia, she knew they were wrong. Or at least, she’d reasoned that they must be. Celestia was her mentor, not to mention royalty— more experienced, knowledgeable and beautiful than Twilight could ever even dream of being. She was the kindest, warmest yet most powerful pony Twilight knew, and what was Twilight to her? Apart from being her student, she was just another subject like anypony else. There were elemental differences between them that could never be overcome. Celestia had seen her grow from a bumbling filly to a lanky teenager and finally, to an adult. And she had seen Celestia at her most powerful, rising the Sun above all of Equestria, and at her weakest, lying on the castle floor after being struck by Chrysalis.
But she was a mere unicorn, and Celestia an all-powerful alicorn. They were together, yet on parallel paths that would never meet.
Despite her rationale, the feelings had to go somewhere, and they did— through her favourite medium, writing. Twilight could write as well as she could read, and recently, when she’d lie awake, consumed by thoughts of the princess, she’d furtively taken to writing little stories about the two of them. They filled her whole chest with a fluttering warmth when they were re-read, almost as comforting as being wrapped in the wings of the princess herself. If it was not meant to be in reality, at least it was on the safety of paper.
Right now, however, she was questioning that safety as she galloped through Ponyville towards her home.
Please let Spike have sent anything else, she pleaded fate, a report I already sent, a bad piece of writing even, heck, even that rant I wrote about my friends that I forgot to burn…
She burst in through the door, the note confirming her fears that Luna hadn’t just been mistaken.
“SPIIIIKE!”
The dragon started as his eyes flared open to a crazed Twilight looking down at him.
“What did you send,” she hissed.
“The letter, of course,” he sighed, his sleep yet again disrupted. “Didn’t you see my note? I sorted it out for you.”
“Except you didn’t!” Twilight blustered. “Spike, the letter was still at The Hayburger! How many times have I told you not to send anything without my permission?”
“I’m sorry, Twilight,” Spike said dejectedly. “But I’m sure the Princess won’t mind. It was just a scroll titled something like a— a statistical analysis or—“
“A Statistical Analysis on Sharing?” Twilight shrieked, eye twitching.
“Yep! That’s it,” Spike said proudly. “Can’t imagine she’d complain about two reports rather than one!”
Twilight began to breathe heavily, the room swirling and caving in around her.
The dream she’d had after the night of the Gala— the way she shivered as Celestia wrapped a downy wing around her, leading her away from the crowds for a moment of peace— a moment of peace that led to something way more—
The ruminations. The extreme details. The sketches.
Clearly, the misleading name hadn’t helped. What was definitely not for any other pony’s eyes had just been sent directly to the one who should never, ever see them.
“SHE’S GOING TO KILL ME!” Twilight freaked, her voice briefly raising the entire library into the air and smashing it down as terrified birds flew out of it.
“Don’t be silly, Twilight,” Spike scoffed. “What’s wrong with a data report?”
“Everything! Everything’s wrong!” the unicorn wailed, and dashed out towards the train station.
“Gosh, overreacting much?” Spike huffed.
He looked around at the natural disaster site of the library, and was about to start cleaning up when he tripped over a broken shelf that had been rampaged through earlier. Pushing it aside, he noticed that all its scrolls shared the same title.
Wow, Twilight’s really into statistical analyses. Though that’s not surprising. Wonder why she keeps them all stored away.
Having nothing much better to do, he pulled one out of the box and began to read. And slowly, his eyes widened until they were larger and larger in his skull.
He raced after Twilight, the cleaning of the library forgotten.
Celestia sat on the terrace of Canterlot Castle.
It was hours too early to raise the sun, yet she knew there was no hope of going back to sleep. Not after that dream she’d woken up from, anyways. Her ivory cheeks turned rose as she bit off a large chunk of chocolate cake (a particular weakness when it came to midnight snacking) as she tried to shake the thought.
She’s just a good student, talented, and somepony you admire, and there’s nothing more to it.
Then why in the dream had that become so lost in translation, going so far as to a lesson together in the palace libraries turning into a quiet tea together on Hearts and Hooves Day, to the heat of—
Stop being ridiculous, Celestia! That’s no way to think of your student. Especially as she has her own life in Ponyville and is perfectly content without you. There’s no point, anyway, as she’ll be gone like everypony else.
Darker thoughts dawned on the princess’ mind and she began to sober up from the bliss of the dream. She knew she loved Twilight. As a mentor, as a friend, as an infatuation, as the truest love she’d felt in millenia. It was the same cruel joke all over again. She was doomed to watch mortals she loved from above, let them find other loves and wither and waste and until their deaths. The cycle never ended. But with Twilight, the most special pony she’d had in her tutelage and gone through so much with, she didn’t know if she could bear it.
She was an alicorn, and Twilight a mere unicorn. They were together, yet on parallel paths that would never meet.
Twilight’s already beginning to forget you. The letters were once every week until you left it up to her, and now they’re barely every two months. Every time, it’s always Spike who scribes them, so it’s probably just out of obligation. How can you even imagine she cares about you as a friend, let alone as anything more?
Taking a particularly vicious bite of cake, Celestia stood up with a heavy heart and returned to her room to go ahead with the day’s proceedings. Immortality was a curse of repetitive hours of court, maintaining harmony and occasional moments of peril, but at least there was cake. Yet since Twilight had left for Ponyville, it had been even harder. Tomorrow would be no different.
A roll of parchment hit her on the horn as she blinked and ducked away. She sighed, levitating it with her magic and about to throw it to the wind, but suddenly gasped in excitement like a filly.
Twilight’s sent me a letter!
She excitedly unwrapped it, only for her face to fall at the title. Of course it was just another report. But what other premise would Twilight write to her under? Yawning, she began to read anyway.
Celestia cuts me off with a kiss, enveloping me in her wings which are soft and white as clouds. The night garden is completely silent except for the gentle breeze against the pond. It is stunning, but nothing compared to her.
I feel heat rushing through my entire body as she traces my back with a single feather.
“Come, Twilight,” she says, in a voice more melodious than even the most beautiful of harmonies, “Let’s go somewhere quieter.”
As she read ahead, Celestia’s muzzle grew redder and redder from within. Her jaw dropped until it began to strain, eyes popping out. Surely this must be a prank. But the handwriting was unmistakable— neat and delicately looped with a slight flourish.
Oh, Twilight.
A dragon and pony sat alone on the midnight train to Canterlot, the pony pacing up and down the carriage at a hundred miles a minute.
“She’s probably sleeping, right?” Twilight tried to reason. “A small little scroll falling wouldn’t wake a pony like Celestia up, would it?”
“Twilight…” Spike started.
“And even if it did, she wouldn’t check it until the morning, would she. So we have plenty of time to break in, replace with my report and be on our way…”
“Twilight!” Spike snapped. “It’s too late. For any of that. Besides, I know what that analysis was really about.”
Twilight froze, turning more crimson than the apples of Sweet Apple Acres.
“All of it. I read all of it,” Spike sighed. “Honestly, why didn’t you tell me?”
Unable to look at him, Twilight backed away.
“Yes, I know it’s a little embarrassing,” Spike smirked, but decided not to press it. There were some things in there he really wished he hadn’t set his eyes upon.
Twilight remained silent, and he went back to being serious.
“Okay, well— we’re close enough that it doesn't matter. If not me, why didn’t you tell your friends? Why didn’t you tell the Princess?”
“You don’t understand, Spike,” Twilight sighed, slumping by the window. “She’s the ruler of Equestria. She’s literally a goddess of the Sun, and I’m just some stupid old filly she once tutored who knows so little about the world compared to her. It’s impossible that she would even—
“You think I don’t know what it’s like to love someone way out of my league?” Spike scoffed. “Well, I did, and still do. But unlike you, I told her.”
“Spike, I know you love Rarity, but this is different!” Twilight yelled, voice straining. “Celestia is immortal and the most powerful pony that lives. What am I compared to her? Apart from the fact that I’m her student, of all things, what is my life against hers? A blink of the eye in the time she’s been alive?”
“So does that change your love for her?” Spike rebuked. “Does that mean you don’t love her, and that you didn’t spend nights lying awake writing it all down to deal with it? Twilight, you’ve defeated Nightmare Moon, Discord, even the Changelings. Every time you’ve proven yourself worthy of her, and every time, she’s been absolutely amazed by you and what you do.”
He touched her hoof delicately.
“At least come clean to her and get some closure. Maybe this is a more, uh, awkward way for it to happen, but it had to at some point. You both deserve that much respect at least.”
Twilight lowered her head.
“It’s just that this is all so humiliating. What if she hates me? What if it doesn’t work out— well, it won’t, but what if we never speak again?”
“Twilight— I’m sure the Princess loves you too much to lose you over a little fantasy,” Spike assured. “And in the time she’s reigned… well I’m sure she’s seen worse. Though she may well be beaten by Luna in that regard if last night was anything to go by.”
Twilight raised her eyebrows at Spike who glanced back at her, and allowed herself a nervous smile.
All too soon, they reached the castle. Twilight ran up to the guards, expecting a struggle to get through to the Princess as they blocked her entry. But as soon as she opened her mouth to speak, the castle doors opened.
Celestia stood behind them, tall and imposing, wings spread out behind her.
Twilight stared up at her stern expression, unable to look away. Even at night, and without her regalia, she was spellbinding, breathtaking, terribly intimidating— and yet, Twilight just wanted to leap at her and tackle her in a hug. Then, she remembered her reason for being at the castle and shrunk back in shame.
“Twilight!” Celestia exclaimed in joy. “What a wonderful surprise! I’m so glad to finally see you!”
“You…are?” Twilight said cautiously.
Maybe she doesn’t know.
“What brings about this very special visit, my dear student?” Celestia said blissfully, looking down at her with the slightest hint of shyness. “That too, at the crack of dawn?”
Twilight shook her head. It was just the glow of the castle lights making the princess look all flushed in front of her. Besides, it was probably nothing compared to how she looked.
“Princess, I…” Twilight started, her tongue full of knots. Spike prodded her sharply at her side.
“You can tell me anything, Twilight,” the princess assured.
Taking a deep breath, she looked into the amethyst depths of Celestia’s eyes.
“I… wanted to deliver my latest report to you by hoof!”
Celestia raised a brow.
“That’s funny.” she mused. “I could’ve sworn I just read a rather excellent report of yours titled A Statistical Analysis of Sharing…”
She looked down at her protégé, eyes twinkling.
Twilight smiled weakly and promptly fainted, Celestia’s soft wings flaring out just in time to catch her.
Twilight Sparkle came round on the softest bed she’d ever been on. Then she realised it wasn’t the bed, but the feathers around her. An angel’s feathers.
Have I died? Did the princess kill me after reading that scroll? I’ve definitely died.
She sprang up in a panic, hitting something hard. Only then did she realise the feathers were the princess’s herself, and she’d hit her head on her horn.
“Princess Celestia!” she gasped, tumbling away from her and crashing onto the floor.
“Ah, Twilight, you’re up,” the princess smiled, looking down from her bed. “That didn’t take you long. In your state, I feared you’d be out for days.”
“But the scroll— the guards— Spike—-“ Twilight began, but the princess got down onto the floor and silenced her with a hoof to the mouth.
“Calm, Twilight,” she said gently. Then she looked down demurely, with an expression Twilight had never seen on her face. “Now, I do believe Spike told me you had something to say?”
Twilight looked up, lip trembling.
“I can’t say it, princess.”
“Of course you can, Twilight. You know I’m always here for you.”
“You’ll… hate me.” Twilight trailed off with a whisper.
“I can’t, Twilight. After all you’ve done for me, how could I ever dislike you? Say whatever you have to, without fear of judgement.”
Princess Celestia was looking at her with such a blank, innocent expression.
But she knows. Of course she does. She’s just waiting for me to lie and fall into her trap, and then she’ll really hate me for good.
Something in Twilight snapped.
“Oh, you know what I mean!” she exploded. “You read the scroll, didn’t you? You know how I feel. Everything I wrote about you, every way you’re beautiful, from the crinkle of your eyes when you smile, to your voice, which is the most beautiful sound to my ears, to the way you have so much love and understanding for everyone and the way I have so much love for you—
She stopped herself, flushing unhappily. Celestia gazed at her, eyes wide.
“Princess, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled…”
“Twilight, I’m extremely flattered,” Celestia said softly, cutting her off.
Of course she is. The words to every rejection speech begin this way.
“I understand, Princess,” she replied quietly. “It’s foolish of me to even think—
“And I never thought I would say this, but I feel the same way.”
“—to think that you’d consider me more than anypony— wait, what?”
“It’s something that I’ve tried to ignore and push away, just like you have.”
Celestia watched as Twilight blushed, shrinking behind her mane in a manner not entirely different from Fluttershy’s.
Oh my goodness. She’s adorable.
“I could’ve told you long ago, my dear Twilight. But I didn’t,” Celestia sighed, “it was my own pride and my own worries that kept me from doing so. I was so selfish.”
“Selfish?” Twilight gasped, though the hints of an undeniable smile were straining her lips. “No, Princess, you could never be.”
“I’ve loved you Twilight, since you were a filly. As a student, as a friend, and recently, in ways that are much stronger. But I couldn’t face my fears of loving you and then losing you to mortality like I have with others. I couldn’t face allowing myself to grow closer to you and then having to watch you age and… and leave this world like any other pony…”
“Oh, Princess…” Twilight reached out a hoof, and Celestia took it.
“And the hardest thing of all. That I was just a tutor to you, just a royal on a pedestal, and you wouldn’t want anything to do with me if I told you.”
Twilight gasped.
“Me? Reject you?”
Celestia raised her eyebrows.
“I take it we shared a similar worry?”
The two ponies gazed at each other in the moonlight, and then broke into relieved laughter.
“I always want you by my side, Twilight Sparkle,” Celestia continued gently, “I’m indebted to you, yet you are so humble and respectful to me and all of Equestria. No matter the pain that may or may not follow with this burden of immortality, I will love you as long as you wish me to. I will stay by your side as long as you remain mine, and even if you ever leave it.”
“Princess…” Twilight began, eyes welling, but Celestia leaned in, covering them with her glowing halo of hair and kissing her. And as Twilight’s brain short-circuited from the feeling of Celestia’s lips on hers, she knew no dream of hers was comparable to the love she felt in this moment.
“I’m glad I read your little work of art, Twilight,” Celestia smirked, breaking away. “Though I understand it’s maybe not quite the way you wanted things to play out, or something you ever wanted me to see.”
Twilight turned away, mortified, only to feel a feather gently brushing down her spine. She gaped, beginning to go weak at the knees.
“Though at least I know what you like,” Celestia whispered, drawing her into another kiss that was followed by many more.
The princess and unicorn ended the night by each other's side, curled up together under a blanket. Surreptitiously glancing at each other with the utmost adoration, their breaths stilled, until a loud, booming Royal Canterlot voice startled them (and possibly every creature in Equestria) from beneath the covers.
“Oh, most wonderful of nights!”
Luna had flown by the terrace and seen the silhouettes of the alicorn and smaller unicorn from behind the curtains.
All was well that week, the Sun especially vibrant in the sky. Celestia seemed to have a new energy within her that had rarely been witnessed since Luna’s return. Princess Cadance was particularly receptive towards this— but she knew neither of the ponies involved required much assistance.
As for Twilight, she pranced around all over Ponyville, her letters to the princess and visits to Canterlot more frequent than ever. Many ponies questioned the shift in their behaviour, but fortunately, Spike truly had a tongue of steel (though he got away with teasing Twilight as often as he could.)
Twilight and Celestia needn’t have worried, however, or shed all those tears that night in Celestia’s bedchambers about the separation of death. As fate would have it, the issue of immortality was resolved soon enough.
