Star Sparkle. Accomplished author, diplomat, historian and mother to one of the most famous mares in Equestrian history. She has no regrets, but she does have a problem: she ran out of gin last night. And her daughter is marrying an ape.
Star Sparkle, when she was young, had expected to court an understanding noble's son, write a few books and spend most of her life up to her belly in mud as she sought out the treasures and traps of some ancient Hindi temple or paleopony burial mound.
For a while it seemed as if her dreams had come true.
Life, unfortunately, has a habit of frustrating such plans, but Star is nothing if not adaptable. Never mind that Twilight Velvet was meant to have the foals, or that her stallion of nearly forty years turned out to be an irascible, if lovable lunatic, or that she has to share him with the mare who was once her closest friend, an erotic novelist, a ruthless businessmare, a brainless fashion model, a grasping socialite and the barren cast-off of a noble family that had once hoped to exploit a political marriage for more power. She's still mother to one of the most famous mares in recent history, she has the somewhat reluctant ear of the Princess, a well-paid job, a half dozen books to her name and all the time she wants for long archaeological expeditions to remote and exotic parts of the world. She has no regrets. At least, none she would admit.
That was the thing she'd probably always remember about this trip; the heat, drilling into her skull and boiling her brain, and the humidity that left her mane hanging around her neck like a wet towel.
The Iqwaharshe Zebra lived in probably the hottest, wettest place Star had ever visited, for reasons that even they couldn't quite understand – they claimed it was the will of the gods that they do so and left it at that. More likely there was no reason for it, except stubborn refusal to accept there might be a better alternative. The lands to the south-east and north-west were more fertile, more tolerable and lacked that particularly invasive species of mosquito that seemed to thrive in the sticky wet mess these Zebra called home. There, the food was better, the air was better and predators were almost unknown, but the Iqwaharshe refused to leave Tartarus for paradise, and so Star was stuck chasing after them in a land made mostly of water, held together with something that could only be called soil because there was nothing muddier to compare it to.
She'd rather be back with the Ngulube. At least they knew how to throw a party, even if she couldn't stand being around their arrogant stallions for more than a few minutes at a time. But the Ngulube were nearly a thousand miles away to the east, enjoying their idyllic lifestyle without her.
A voice finally worked its way into her mind, calling from across some vast, water-soaked gulf. Carefully, to avoid slapping herself in the face with the slicked mess her mane had become, Star looked up from her reverie and tried to smile.
"I'm sorry, dear, I was miles away."
"Probably back at the lodge if you're anything like me," Twilight Velvet shot back with a wry grin. "I'll likely spend an entire day in the bath when we get back. You would not believe the places this horrid dirt has managed to infiltrate."
"Oh. I would." Star adjusted her hat to better shade her from the equatorial sun and tried to ignore the nausea building in her gut.
They were riding in a cart, pulled by a pair of Asses who had lived up to their name quite admirably for most of the journey, until Star had threatened to geld them. For the last two days, Twilight and Star had either ridden the cart or walked through the rich red mud of Bokswana, chasing the trail of an isolated tribe of Iqwaharshe on a tip that they might know the location of the long-abandoned capital city-fort of an ancient Asinine kingdom that once ruled the area. It was her third time in Zebrica and her first somewhere other than the Marengeti, where the weather was civilised and the air wasn't a single mass of steam.
Normally Star would have revelled at the thrill of the pursuit and the excitement of such a potentially significant find. Normally she wouldn't have minded having Twilight along for the ride, either; her herdmate, though largely uninterested in ancient history, had a certain charm that so easily disarmed the natives, and it was always helpful to have a speaker capable of understanding the horrendous patois the locals spoke when they weren't using their own languages.
Normally.
But then neither did Star normally feel like throwing up whenever she looked at the sky, or when she smelled certain scents that were frustratingly, distressingly common in this part of the world. Such as that of the troop of baboons that had just thundered past a few minutes prior.
"Twilight..."
The other unicorn looked at her, frowning. "Are you alright, dear?"
"No."
"Oh. Should we turn around?"
"No, I think we should just s– stop for a—" Star felt her stomach gurgle and she let out a wet burp. Without even bothering to excuse herself, she rushed to the side of the cart and performed unspeakable acts upon the fecund earth. Twilight politely covered her muzzle and looked away.
"I do hope you haven't caught anything."
Star shuddered and spat bile, rather more literally than usual. The cart trundled on, its two Asses refraining from comment on this particular turn of events, lest they have a short date with a pair of bricks.
"Malaria tablets all stocked up?"
"This isn't malaria," Star groused. "Those bitey little buggers haven't been anywhere near me all month. They know better."
"What else could it be, dear? How long have you been like this?"
"A week. Perhaps a little longer." Star pulled herself back from the side of the cart and flopped gracelessly onto the deck. She fanned her face with her hat and tried to think about nice, bland nothings. "I thought it was something I ate, at first."
"But that wouldn't make you ill for a whole week, surely?"
"No. I'm not ill at all."
"Then what?" Twilight's eyes widened as Star fixed her with a steady gaze. "Oh. You're sure? I know you were in heat a little before we left but surely you knew better than to—" Star's steady gaze returned. Twilight's ears fell back. "Oh Star, you didn't?"
"It was just once! You were off in fantasy land and fast asleep, Scintilla was at some conference and Crystal was gods knew where, probably locked in her room with an ice bath if she had any sense. I was going insane, Twilight." Star ran a hoof over her forelock, leaving it sticking out at odd angles, increasing the frazzled look of her already humidity-stricken mane. She rolled her eyes heavenward and let out a short, wordless shout. "Pregnant in the middle of a disease-ridden shit pit! What in Celestia's name did I do to deserve this?"
"You know exactly what you did," Twilight replied, before gently rubbing Star's shoulder. The older mare took a cut-off breath and let it out slowly through her nose. "And you knew the risks, presumably."
"Thirty percent chance seems pretty good odds when you're so heated you start trying to seduce a hosepipe."
"That bad?"
"Oh you have no idea," Star groaned, not even wanting to remember that week.
"On the bright side, at least we know he's not going off dry. Looks like we'll be celebrating!" Twilight gave Star a shy smile and looked away toward the horizon. "Though perhaps here isn't the best place."
"Nor the best time," Star replied, feeling increasingly faint as the humid air seemed to close up on her all over again. "Maybe you'll enjoy having foals when the time comes. I don't feel like celebrating. This is the last thing I need right now."
"Star—"
"Oh you'd be okay. You could go back home, lounge about like one of the heroines in those trashy novels you like to read so much, wait a few months and then squeeze out an heir or three so the family can carry on. I can't afford foals right now, not when I'm so close to—"
Nausea kicked at her gut. Star leaned back over the side of the cart and let fly once again, heaving and pawing feebly at the sideboard long after her stomach had emptied itself, and then following up with a stream of invective that would have made a stone blush. Twilight just sighed and shook her head.
"Star, you can't work like this."
"I have to. The university—"
"Will understand completely, dear. They can find you something to do until you're able to go out in the field again, or maybe you could work on one of those books you keep saying you're going to write. Besides." Twilight glanced meaningfully along the trail and waved her hoof in front of her nose. "How will the Iqwaharshe react to you vomiting all over them every morning?"
"Don't care," Star grumped, knowing she sounded like a spoiled child. She folded her forelegs and turned her nose up with a loud snort. Twilight just sighed and leaned toward the lead Ass.
"Hey, yula pully round sah, heddy lodge way so."
"Heddy new gula bits mo," the Ass replied with a jaunty lilt. He turned to his companion and muttered something under his breath before resuming his pidgin conversation with Twilight. "Makey miss mula coosan, heddy lodge way round Ngansa su after so ya?"
"Twilight..."
"Heddy way no ava, Ngansa way no ava neither so," Twilight replied, ignoring Star's attempt to distract her. She stared at the Ass and shook her head. "Yula coosan sit pretty."
"Bits sah, moy makey."
"Twilight Velvet, stop trying to convince him to turn around! We have to get to the Zebra before they move on! Anyway it's clear he's pretty set on going after them."
"Star, no, you're in no condition to argue about this," Twilight replied. She turned to the Ass again and fixed him with a steely glare. "Yula makey heddy– ach, to tartarus with it. Umzala wenu ngumufi kimi! Inqolaguquka eindlwanaini noma amathumbu akho ngizodla!"
The Ass swallowed and glanced at his companion, who nodded slowly. "Heddy lodge way sah."
"Good!"
Twilight took a deep breath and sat back on her haunches with a triumphant grin. A moment later the cart lurched and began to make a slow circle, much to Star's dismay. Not that she was inclined to do much about it at that particular moment, nor did she think she was even capable. She settled for glaring daggers at her herdmate instead, but Twilight just ignored her ire and gave her a sympathetic smile.
"I know you had your heart set on this, Star."
"Heart nothing, I had my career resting on this! Do you know how long I've worked for this moment? Now some brainless moron with no idea of what she's looking at will get there first and probably make a name for herself while I languish in obscurity in some backwater college in the middle of Celestia knows where, lecturing on post-unification history to halfwits and imbeciles!"
"I've always loved how active your imagination could be," Twilight replied with a light chuckle. She leaned back against the sideboard and looked up at the sky, holding on to her hat with a free hoof. "It'll all work out, you'll see."
"I'll hold you to that," Star groused as she stared back at the way they'd been heading. Somewhere beyond that hill the Iqwaharshe were even now setting about the long task of breaking camp for the rainy season. They'd be separating into their male and female herds, scouting trails and looking for new feeding grounds, and in a few days they'd melt away into the sopping green and red mess they called home. On the bright side they'd take their information with them, meaning none of her potential competitors would be able to get to it either. It was a small comfort, but Star was willing to take anything on offer right then.
"Any ideas of what you'll call her?"
"I haven't thought about it. And it's going to be a colt, apparently. I had a Mangwa doctor look at it at the lodge." Star rubbed her belly until she realised what she was doing. She forced her hoof to the floor and glared at it. "They've got some excellent medical skill hidden in all that mystic nonsense they spout, I just wish she hadn't kept rhyming all the time." Star looked up at the sky and shook her head. "Twilight, if I ever do anything this stupid again—"
"Don't see it as stupid, Star. It's a positive thing."
"Positively horrendous, you mean. Next time, you're all on twenty-four hour duty or I'm locking myself in an ice house with a stiff drink and the hosepipe. One or the other. I'll just have to cope with this one."
"Funny, isn't it? Lucent and I start really trying for a foal and suddenly you're the one that's pregnant."
"What's your point."
"Nothing. Just seems funny, that's all," Twilight replied with another little sigh. She closed her eyes, letting the rocking cart lull her as the world went by. After watching her herdmate's rhythmic sway for a while, Star tried to do likewise.
The cart hit a bump, rocking them back and forth. Star held her stomach, fully expecting another bout of nausea, but the worst of it had apparently passed; she felt nothing more than a faint discomfort. The unicorn let out a relieved sigh and leaned back, finally relaxing. "I have to admit, you turned these two around with impressive speed. What on earth did you say to him?"
"I told him what if thought of his cousin and then I think I threatened to withhold his pay, but my Isizebu is so atrocious that I might well have threatened to eat him."
"Ah," Star replied with a grin that looked only marginally happier than she felt. She looked back along the trail again and sighed, rubbing her belly. She imagined a little warm spark somewhere deep inside and tried to imagine how it would feel, but for once her imagination failed her completely.
"Why not get rid of it?"
Star choked at the sudden suggestion, more for the source of it than anything else. She closed her eyes for a moment to think. "That Mangwa doctor asked the same thing. She even had herbs and nonsense like that. What do I need herbs for? I'm a unicorn for Celestia's sake, a quick amniopyre and it's gone."
"Not really something I'd thought to dwell on before."
"I don't think you should," Twilight replied. The shy smile was back again. "For entirely selfish reasons, I should add. When Lucent does manage to water my garden it'd be nice to think she'll have somepony to play with. An older brother would be wonderful."
Star huffed and shook her head, losing herself in the thought. She'd been steeling herself for this moment ever since the first twinge, but it still felt as if it wasn't quite real. Foals had never been part of her plans.
"It's not going to be the life I imagined," she said quietly. Twilight hummed in sympathy, her concentration mostly lost to some sort of notebook she'd fished out of their supplies. She glanced up at Star and then returned to reading.
"You say this tribe are the only one that knows where the temple is?" Star nodded. "And they've just packed up to go a-wandering haven't they?"
"Yes. They likely won't settle down again properly for at least four years. They'll probably spend a month up near the mountains a year or two from now, but apart from that..." Star stuck out her jaw and frowned again. She glanced back along the trail. "Twilight, how do you feel about a little foalsitting the year after next?"
"Why darling, I'd be absolutely delighted!"
"If I can catch them at the mountains it's likely we'd be closer to any ancient settlements. Nopony would be stupid enough to try and build a kingdom in this muck." She thought about that for a moment, considering the Zebra she had been chasing. "Almost nopony."
"Didn't I tell you everything would work out?"
"I don't know if I'd call this working out, but I suppose it's the best I can hope for."
"That's all any of us can ever do, Star," Twilight said with another one of her shy smiles, a reminding Star of why she'd fallen for her in the first place. Neither spoke for a while, content to let the world rumble slowly by. In the distance, between the trees, Star could see the glint of Lake Ngansu, which was called a lake only because it was stretching the definition of 'mud' too far to call it anything else. The water shimmered in the sun, almost unnaturally blue from this distance.
"Shining," she said as the light caught her eyes again. She'd have to visit that lake someday. The north shore might even be tolerably firm. Maybe she could bring him along. "I'll call him Shining."
* * *
Canterlot University, present day
Light fell on Star from great glass panes embedded in the roof of her lecture hall, each shaft shimmering with chalk and the dust of countless hoof-worn books. She had her back to the ranks of students as she continued to draw on an enormous blackboard. A large chunk of life's work, rendered in white chalk on a black field the size of a small house, presented to students who were only there because they had to be.
It was no wonder her mind kept sliding back to those earlier days. Star squeezed her eyes shut for a moment to push away the reverie and forced herself to concentrate on the lecture.
"... and so, as should now be clear, the presence of these numerous arched chambers indicate that this area was once a central meeting place for many dozens, possibly up to a hundred small family groups for what appears to be some form of the Kuur collective burial ceremonies. There are signs here and here of crude excavations, likely grave robbers or fortune seekers, but the chamber here remains undisturbed, indicating– you, at the front!" Professor Star Sparkle turned from the board, raised her hoof toward a colt seated at the foot of the lecture hall and glared at him. "Are you even listening?"
In fact the colt, whose name she could never remember, had been listening quite attentively as Star had drawn a detailed map of an early Donkey temple-fort, but he had such a cute way of blushing when she called him out that she just couldn't help herself. The blush only got stronger when he realised the rest of the class was paying attention to him as well.
"I, ah, I was—"
"Never mind, just keep your eye off my delectable rear and on the board in future." A smattering of laughter broke out in the lecture theater. Professor Sparkle turned from the poor colt with a huff and eyeballed several of her students at random. "I expect every one of you to pay the strictest attention to what I say and what I write. All of you, especially you," she said, pointing again at the target of her torment, "believe you have some future in our diplomatic service or you wouldn't be here listening to me drone on about the history of those societies with which we have such close relations. If you are to be a part of the great service to which you feel you are called, it is important to understand the history of our friends across the great species divide. Yes?"
Another student slowly lowered her hoof and stood up to speak. "Professor, when you talk about close interspecies relations—"
"Let me stop you right there," Star said, peering at the student. "Cookie Cutter, isn't it?"
"Yes'm."
"Well, ms Cutter, I understand you were hoping yet again to make a joke at the expense of my daughter, so let me just be clear on that too. Unless you can come up with something incredibly creative, you are not allowed to make such jokes in my lecture hall. Questioning what my darling filly gets up to in the bedroom is entirely my affair and I refuse to allow anyone else to take my fun unless they come up with something worth stealing. Now," she continued, turning from a few quiet chuckles and back to the blackboard. "Before this descends to yet another attempt to distract from today's lecture, let us return to the study of our—"
A movement at the door of the lecture hall caught Professor Sparkle's eye and she paused, eyeing the figure behind the door. Star tapped her forehoof on the floor and pointed at the target of her somewhat unfortunate affections again. "You, take the lecture until I get back. My notes are easy enough to read, not that any of you layabouts know the meaning of the word."
"But—"
"Consider it recompense for your indiscretion," Star growled, pushing past the unfortunate colt as he sloped up to the lectern. As she stepped down she quite innocently bumped her hip against his, leaving the poor thing more confused than ever and blushing furiously.
Ahh, students.
Star Sparkle crashed open the door – the cavernous echoing spaces of the university combined with a number of odd design choices meant it was impossible to open the doors quietly – and cantered out into the hall. A younger mare stood a short distance away, primly examining a wall of posters extolling the virtues of the Equestrian diplomatic service, declaring student solidarity with various causes and advertising Four-for-one Friday at the Student Union bar. The mare turned as Star approached, tossing her immaculately styled pink mane against her equally immaculately brushed pale blue coat.
"You'd think they would update these posters," she said, eyeing the display board along a delicately aristocratic snout that looked as if it should be permanently accompanied by a pince-nez. "I remember the same NSU call for ‘action' over the..." she peered at the display again. "Atrocities in Neighpon when I was a student here."
"It's an atrocious place," Star replied, rolling her eyes at her own terrible joke. "Forget the posters, Crinkle, what are you doing here?"
"Star, darling, I'd prefer Crincile."
"But of course!" Star grinned and pressed closer to her herdmate. "If you prefer Crincile then Crincile it shall be, at least until we get that pretty blue rump of yours back up to my office."
Crincile raised her head slightly, refusing to give into Star's blandishments just yet. She looked up the corridor, then down, noting the lack of any visible students or staff between its institutional-green walls. Not a surprise given the time of day – lectures were in full swing, no-one would be roaming the halls unless they were on extremely urgent business. "Perhaps I should have waited until lunch. Star... Star, please, not in public!"
"As you probably noticed," Star said from somewhere behind Crincile's neck. "We're not precisely in public." She pulled herself away and looked into her herdmate's face, finally noting Crincile's discomfort. Not the sort of discomfort she'd want to inflict, at least not yet. "Oh very well, I assume you're here for something important or you wouldn't be dragging me from my lectures, and since your idea of important doesn't include anything remotely entertaining..."
"If you're quite finished." Crincile turned away with another quiet sniff and they began the short trek to Star's office, their hoofsteps echoing in the oversized corridors. Star still occasionally found herself wondering just what possessed the architects of her university to design such ridiculously overwrought spaces. Of course, when she'd been a student, the little nooks and crannies they offered had been more than welcome.
Her office was, naturally, as enormous as anything else in the building, as much a testament to the designer's tastes as her own rather considerable status. She lazily greeted her secretary whilst ignoring his demands for her attention, kicked open the inner door and made a beeline for the drinks cabinet, not even taking a moment to glance out of the tall windows overlooking the University's main quad.
"Now m'dear," she said, as she poured herself a very large gin and tonic. What the hell, it was past midday. "What important business do we have to attend to?"
"Well—"
"Only please be brief, I have a meeting with the Dean in, oh, forty or so minutes and I'd like to at least pretend to complete a lecture before I see her today."
"Star, you—"
"You're right, it's a terrible idea to drink before a meeting," Star replied, before taking an overly large gulp of her drink. She let the warmth of the alcohol soak into her body for a few moments and let out a sharp breath. "But I have tenure, so what do I care?"
Crincile fixed Star with a slightly twitchy glare and very carefully pushed the door closed. The silence seemed to break through to Star's famously rock-hard mind; she lowered the drink and tilted her head.
"Is something wrong, dear?"
"Nothing is wrong with me, Star, but you do seem to be displaying your usual ability to completely gloss over very important details about your surroundings." Crincile sniffed again and tossed her mane. "Your daughter, for instance, who has been sitting behind you for at least five minutes."
The ice in Star's drink rattled quietly as she took another sip. "You're assuming I wasn't deliberately ignoring her. Don't pretend this mood of yours is about Twilight, Crinkle. I'm sorry that I missed your anniversary with Luci—"
"That has nothing to do with it."
"—but it's just not healthy to hold grudges." Star put her drink down and finally turned to face her beloved daughter. Twilight Sparkle was sitting, in fact, on a couch by the far wall, next to the larger of Star's frankly enormous bookshelves. The book she'd been reading was perched on the arm, while she stared at her mother with what was hopefully feigned horror. "Hello dear. How's the ape?"
"Mom!"
"Yes, yes, I know that's no way to talk about your lovely Rainbow Dash, but she does invite it so."
"W– What? But you– but..." Twilight put both forehooves to her face and let out a very long, slow breath. Much to Star's surprise the younger Sparkle didn't immediately descend into gibbering madness.
"Interesting... Crinkle, see this? Normally she's chewing her own leg off to escape by now. Evidently life in this herd suits her!"
"That's wolves, Star," Crincile responded, before carefully inserting herself between the pair. She put her foreleg over Twilight's withers and gave her a quick hug, slipping onto the couch herself. "Honestly, the way you treat Twilight like some sort of bucking bag, it's no wonder she's been so neurotic all her life"
"I'm not going to pretend I was ever a perfect mother, dear. We all raised her as best we could. Now," she said, turning to Twilight. "Why, sweet little filly of mine, did you feel it necessary to have the Lady de Botici herself summon me in the middle of a lecture? At the very least you could have come yourself."
"Mother, the last time I visited you in one of your lectures, you managed to convince the entire class I was an exhibitionist."
"Oh. Yes, so I did. How frightful, though perhaps subsequent events have proven me somewhat right in that suspicion?"
"Interspecies courtship is not exhibitionism."
"I know, dear."
"Then why– never mind..." Twilight snorted and blew out her cheeks. She hooked a foreleg over the arm of the couch and then seemed to sag, her whole body molding itself into the seat as she let out another, longer breath.
"Would you like a drink?" At Twilight's nod, Star moved back to the drinks cabinet and filled two more glasses. "And one for you as well, dearest Crincile?"
"Why thank you, darling, I thought you'd never ask."
"Of course. How's Luci? What with all that's going on right now, I haven't had a chance to see him for a couple of weeks."
"Oh, you know, madly jealous of his stars, enamoured with the Princess, trying to extract sunlight from cucumbers. That sort of thing."
Star and Twilight shared a skeptical look. The younger unicorn cautiously accepted her drink and settled even further into the couch, as if that were possible. Star returned her attention to Crincile.
"Cucumbers?"
"Well, perhaps I'm exaggerating a little, but... Star, you recall he's been getting those odd ideas about trying to attract Princess Luna? Right now he's muttering about finding the solution in dark arts and 'arcane magics'. With an 'S'. One of these days I fully expect to find him cackling around some mad scientist's laboratory!" Crincile took a delicate sip of her drink, wrinkled her nose and then set it aside. "Isn't there some way to distract him?"
"Crinkle, if you can't think of a way to distract him then you're out of luck. I wouldn't worry too much, though. The whole mad science act is really more Twilight's thing, isn't it dear?" She eyed her daughter for a moment, smiling broadly as Twilight shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "That lab you maintain in your basement, so very fascinating. Do you still have that delightful air elemental warded down there? He was such a charmer!"
A strange silence settled over the room as the two elder mares contemplated Twilight. Her eye twitched. She slammed back the drink between her hooves with impressive speed and tossed the now empty glass on the couch. "Well it's been so nice seeing you again, mother, but I think it's time I left before you say something so traumatising that I have to teleport myself into deep space to escape the shame."
"But Twilight, dear, you haven't even explained why you came to visit!"
The look Twilight gave her mother could have cut glass. However, she seemed to relent, possibly because the alcohol in her drink had finally found its way to her spine; Twilight sat upright, sniffed primly, much to Star's amusement, and nodded. "Of course." She took a breath and held it for a moment. "It's... a little... unusual, otherwise I would have just written to ask."
"As if you ever write to me."
"Mom, come on, I'm trying to have a rational conversation here! No, you know what? Forget it." Twilight stood up, barely even wobbling despite the strength of the drink she'd consumed. She marched toward the door. "I'm not going to bother, I'll just send the invitations and hope you have the decency to—"
The door rattled and the lock clicked, encased in Star's light blue aura. Twilight teetered to a halt and turned to face her mother and Crincile. She frowned at each in turn.
"What are you doing?"
"What invitations would these be, dear?"
"No."
Star pursed her lips and turned back to the drinks cabinet, any thought of her future driven from her mind. She carefully measured another, rather stronger drink while considering her next words. In truth, her relationship with Twilight had always been a little fraught, but this behaviour was new. Perhaps she'd finally pushed too far?
"Twilight..." She took a breath, abandoning the drink. She'd probably need it after more than she wanted it now. "You're right, I have been indecent. I'm not going to excuse myself." A flash of her horn and the door unlocked again with a loud click. "If you really want to leave, I won't keep you."
Twilight wordlessly moved toward the door, but stopped before she reached it. She turned to look at her mother again, a look of utter confusion on your face. "You just apologised. You never apologise."
"I never had my daughter actually hinting at what I suspect you may be hinting at before," Star shot back, rounding on Crincile as she did so. "Has she said anything to you about this, whatever it is?"
"Not a word, I'm as in the dark as you are."
"Ahh, a mystery! I do so enjoy mysteries." Star's aura tugged a chair around from behind her desk and she sat down, facing Twilight. The young unicorn took another breath and slowly made her way back to the couch, holding her head high and proud, as if she'd intended to do nothing else. With her daughter seated once again, Star brought her second drink to her lips. "Very well then. Surprise me."
"We're getting married."
For the first time in many years, Star Sparkle's magic failed her. The drink she'd been about to consume slipped to the floor and smashed on the dense carpet tiling, splashing its contents across the floor, the chair and both Star and Crincile's hooves. Not that Star noticed. She was too busy staring at the triumphant expression that had formed on Twilight's face.
"Oh." Star pursed her lips and tried to think of a better response. She watched as Crincile primly stepped away from the couch and retreated to the kitchenette on the far side of the office. "Well. This is certainly a first."
"Yes. You're actually speechless."
"Close, dear. Close." Star poked gently at the broken glass around her seat with a rear hoof, then just as carefully levitated the whole lot into the wastepaper basket. "So, you and this human are tying the proverbial? Surely he would have chosen Rainbow Dash to—"
"No, mom. All of us. We're all getting married."
If Star had been holding her drink she would have dropped it again. In lieu, she dropped her voice to a harsh whisper. "All of you?"
"Yes."
"Even that slightly loopy one with the harp?" Twilight's eyes flashed. Literally flashed, Star noted, with just a hint of flame gathering at the pupils. "Yes, fine, that was uncalled for. I'm just—" Star closed her eyes and massaged her temple. "And you say you're not an exhibitionist... I assume you've not even considered the political ramifications? No of course you haven't, why would you think about something like that? You're only tutored by the protector of the entire realm and source of all Equestrian law, after all! Still, I suppose I mustn't complain, I may yet see some grandfoals out of this if that research of yours pays off. Crinkle, good news!"
Crincile peeked out of the kitchenette. "Yes, darling?"
"Twilight's decided to throw the entire world into chaos!"
"Again? Does this mean I shall have to cancel my lunch date with Shelly?"
Star ignored the complaint and kicked open the office door, much to her secretary's dismay, though not surprise. He was more than used to her moods by now. "You, boy, run down to Hall Seven and tell them to bugger off home, I'm finished for the day."
"You've still got your one o'clock with the Dean, Professor. And it's Penny Candy."
"I know, I was trying to save you the embarrassment." The sympathetic look Star gave her secretary was entirely feigned and they both knew it. She tapped her chin and thought for a moment. "Reschedule with the Dean. I have to go and get awfully drunk."
"You really want me to say—"
"Of course not! You just make something up. Family matters, urgent political conference, timberwolves invading the basement. Something! Don't just stand there, get on with it!"
She slammed the door and turned her gaze to Twilight and Crincile, both now seated together on the couch. Twilight seemed pleased with herself and Star, for her part, felt oddly proud of her daughter, though she had no rational reason to do so. Rather the opposite, in fact. It was evident that she'd almost succeeded in turning Twilight into a copy of herself. What joy.
"I think we should celebrate! A new era is upon us and all that rubbish, lets all go out and have a nice meal or something. My treat!"
"Actually, mom..." Twilight shifted in her seat and then abruptly stood. She cantered toward the door. "I can't. I have to be on the train back to Ponyville. That's why I came now and not later in the day."
"Oh. Can't spare another moment for your old mare?"
"Sorry." Twilight continued toward the door, but stopped with one hoof resting against the handle. She turned to look at Star, her face twisted up into a parody of its usual beautiful self, and her voice quavered a little when she spoke. "I want to stay, mom, but—"
"It's fine, Twilight. You go and enjoy whatever sort of perverse fun you have with your herd."
"Mother."
"Yes, yes..." Star moved closer to her daughter and gently rubbed a hoof on her shoulder. "I... I'll see you soon. Hear me?"
"Yeah." Twilight pushed the door open and stepped out of the office, pausing just long enough for a final glance over her shoulder before the door closed on her again.
Star took a deep breath before returning to her seat, which she dragged back around to its customary position behind the desk. She sat down and stared at the piles of papers and nick-knacks cluttering up the broad oak surface and then laid her head down on the blotter.
"Why can I never say it, Crinkle?"
"Say what?"
"You know." Star rolled her eyes toward her herdmate and grinned, without humour, or any sort of feeling at all. Crincile seemed to consider the statement for a few moments, then dismissed it with a shrug.
"I think you know why. I'm sure she understands, Star. She takes after you more than you care to admit."
"She does not! If I hadn't been forced to squeeze her out I'd swear she was Velvet's!"
"Ah yes, Velvet. That turned out rather well, didn't it?"
"Oh, don't remind me. I don't know how I put up with you," Star groaned. She pushed away from the desk and clopped to the floor again.
"Remember, Star, I wouldn't be the mare I am today without your influence," Crincile said, smirking, as she made her way to Star Sparkle's side. The younger mare affectionately nuzzled her herdmate, drawing just the hint of a smile onto Star's face. "So! What were you saying about a celebration?"
"Actually, given the circumstances, I was thinking of rolling into the NSU bar and tapping a few of my students for free drinks."
"Somehow, Star, I expected nothing less."
2. I remembered, then, there is no fate that cannot be surmounted by scorn
Lucent Noctis, Duke of Smaragdvea, forty first of the line to bear the title and so forth, cinched back his newspaper and stared at the letter his beloved had slapped down on the table between them. From there his gaze slipped to the grubby white foal at her teat, suckling away as if the conversation around him meant nothing. Lucent's eyes narrowed slightly as he peered up at Star.
"You've been reading my mail again."
"You left it open on my pillow, Lucent, with a hoof-written note asking me to read it and tell you what I thought. I was worried you were proposing to me, which is a silly idea on its face, but this..." Star tapped the letter, hard, rattling the silverware on the table and spilling a little of Lucent's coffee. "For the record, I think it's insane!"
"I was sure I explained the political intrigues of my family, dear."
"You explained, I just never expected you to acquiesce to such regressive nonsense!" For want of anything to do, Star picked up the thick parchment letter and slapped it down on the table again, shattering a fraction of its delicately worked gilt edging. She stomped on the floor and turned away. The foal at her feet squawked his protest as he was suddenly dislodged. He cantered round after Star as he tried to latch on again.
"I can't just break a centuries-old agreement because you don't like it, Star. Mother wouldn't approve."
"To tartarus with your mother's opinion, Lucent!"
Lucent stared at Star for a good few seconds before returning to his newspaper, taking a moment to nod to another pony entering the room. "Good morning, Twilight. I take it you slept well?"
"Better than some of us, I'd wager," Twilight Velvet replied, eyeing the foal, who had resumed nosing greedily around Star's hindquarters. Star snorted and picked up the letter for a third time, pausing to see if she could set it aflame with just the energy from her angry glare. When that failed she tossed the parchment at Twilight, who deftly caught it with her magic.
"What's this?"
"Lucent's getting married."
"Married? How novel." The letter rustled as Twilight opened it up to read. "The eldest daughter of the Marquis de Botici? Isn't that over in Ryemania somewhere?"
"Somewhere," Lucent replied, absently pouring more cream in his coffee as he turned another page of his newspaper. Star grit her teeth and took a step to snatch the paper away but was distracted by a sudden and very particular pain in her hindquarters.
"Shining Armor, I have told you already, nice ponies do not bite!" She firmly pushed her foal away with a hind leg and turned around to face him. Little Shining looked up at her with wide eyes, doing his best impression of an abandoned and starving kitten, but she was unmoved. "Any more of that and you'll get a thrashing."
"Are you sure all these threats of violence are strictly necessary, Star?"
"Twilight, you can tell me how to raise my offspring when you've got one of your own."
Twilight Velvet jumped as if physically struck. She stared at Star, lips twitching as she tried to form a coherent response, but Star dismissed the mewling, hysterical– she bit down on the bitter thought and gave Twilight an apologetic look.
"Excuse me, Twilight. I've not been sleeping well."
Twilight nodded, biting her lip. "I–It's ok."
Star tried to give her herdmate a reassuring smile, but her heart wasn't in it. She turned her attention back to Lucent. Their Stallion was still reading his newspaper, calmly chewing on a piece of toast and paying neither mare any attention whatsoever.
"Don't you have anything to say?"
"Not as such." Lucent folded the newspaper into a neat square and finally put it to one side He looked at Twilight for a moment, his face a mask of sympathy and understanding, then turned to Star. "Try to make up, will you? She's going to be here in a few minutes and we wouldn't want to make a bad impression."
"She's what? Lucent, you didn't tell us any of this!"
"It was arranged before we even met," Lucent said, his voice dropping to a quiet, comforting murmur. Twilight and Star both drew closer to hear him, their momentary feud forgotten as Lucent's gentle tones washed over them. With the keen cheek of children everywhere, Shining squeezed up between them, staring up at his father with the same wide eyes he'd tried to employ on Star a moment earlier. They were roundly ignored. "I know I should have said something but I didn't want to trouble you with—"
"Trouble me? Trouble me? Lucent..." Words failed her. Star gasped as she fought for a response.
A clock chimed before she could think of anything else to say. Lucent and Star both looked up as hoofsteps echoed in the corridor beyond, the sound of the house staff galloping to prepare for visitors; even they knew before she did. She looked to Lucent for another round of complain but paused when she found his face. His normally cheery visage had been replaced with the nervous, almost child-like expression Star remembered from the days when she had first courted him.
"I'd better go and find Glint," he said quietly, pushing back from the table as he did so. Star and Twilight watched him amble from the room. As soon as the door closed behind him, Star let out a frustrated sigh. She rubbed her face and glared at the hardwood floor of the dining room.
"Married." Star nuzzled at Shining, smiling at his adoring face in spite of herself, and let him go back to feeding. "Why he listens to that stupid old nag—"
"That 'nag' was his entire life until we came along, he's bound to trust her even in the face of your eminent wisdom," Twilight replied, her voice betraying nothing of the argument they'd had a moment earlier. She held up the letter. "Says here it's some sort of old arrangement between Botici and Smaragdvea to merge their lines if Smaragdvea was ever without a female heir."
"What about Shining?"
"It's very specific about the heir being a filly," Twilight said stiffly. She put the letter down with more care than Star had displayed. "If you'd foaled one, there might have been an argument against this."
"If you had, you mean. I was in this herd for love and stability, nothing more."
"Perhaps you should have thought about that before—"
"Perhaps nothing Twilight, you were the one who was meant to be raising foals, not me! I had a career until this—" Star winced and gasped, crossing her eyes as the pain in her hindquarters made himself intimately known again. "Shining, if you bite me one more time then so help me you will be locked in you bedroom for the rest of the week!"
"Don't be so hard on him, Star. He knows you're not being fair to yourself, or anypony for that matter."
"Twilight, just keep telling me how to raise my foal—"
"Oh rub it in why don't you! Just because you managed to– to get a child from Lucent doesn't give you the right to be so high and mighty, Star Sparkle!" Twilight paced the kitchen, snorting. "I was trying to be nice."
"I don't respond well to nice, Velvet."
"No," Twilight replied quietly. She glanced at the door as it opened to admit another of their herd, a pale earth pony toting a tasteless collection of jewellery around her neck. "Bitterness and violently loud screaming is more your style. Hello Crystal."
"Ladies." Crystal Glimmer tossed her head and smiled broadly at the pair. "The others are waiting in the foyer. Thank Celestia I wasn't back at the townhouse today, I didn't even know this was happening until half an hour ago."
"That's more warning than I had," Star replied, forcing a bitter smile onto her face. Crystal rolled her eyes.
"He'll forget where he left his head one of these days," she said, kneeling down to greet Shining Armor as the foal cantered toward her. "Hey kiddo! Ready to meet your new aunt?"
Shining threw an uncertain look back at his mother, but quickly hid it behind a broad grin. Despite herself, Star smiled back, trying to reassure the child, wishing she had someone to reassure herself.
"Crystal, could you be a dear and take Shining of my hooves for a few minutes?"
The mare's ears rolled back and forward again. "A–Are you sure? You know I'm useless on my own with foals."
"Crystal, I have not had a drink for a month, I have slept two hours in the past twenty and I am about to meet a new herdmate who I have never even heard of before. You take him, or I'll start pulling out that pretty mane of yours one hair at a time. Your choice."
Crystal's eye twitched slightly. She glanced over her shoulder, then down at Shining, who had taken to hugging her leg as if it were the only thing keeping him attached to the ground. "Come on, kiddo, lets go in the other room before your momma does something I'll regret."
With a last, tremulous glance at Star, Crystal shuffled the foal out of the dining room, regaling the young Shining with a story of her last trip to some exotic fashion show. Shining peeked back through the door at his mother just as it closed. He tried on an uncertain smile just as he disappeared from view.
Star sighed, finally letting her guard down now her offspring was out of the way. "Twilight. I am sorry."
"It's not like you to apologise, Star, so I suppose you must be."
They faced one another across the table, shifting awkwardly from side to side as each thought of how to move forward – though, in Star's case, the lingering soreness in her nethers wasn't helping any effort to stay still. Just a few months, then he'd be on solids and she could finally have some time to herself again.
"I am," she continued, finally. "I know it's been hard for you."
"Hard doesn't begin to over it," Twilight replied. She fiddled with the edges of Lucent's newspaper, pawing fitfully at the pages as if she'd find some resolution between them. "If it was just one, I'd understand, but I've had any number of heats since Shining came along. We know Lucent's not running dry and I'm as fertile as they come according to my gynecologist, but they're just not taking. Seeing you with Shining... that should have been me, Star."
"Take him then, I'd rather be out on the Marengeti anyway! Or Hindia." Star pulled the paper away from Twilight and flipped it over, staring at the page without reading it. An article caught her eye. After a few moments of reading, Star laid the paper down again and sighed. "They just found another temple city near Bambey."
"You'd be too busy chasing Zebra around Bokswana to spend time in Hindia," Twilight replied, with just a hint of the cheeky smile Star remembered. Twilight turned away for a moment and blew her nose. When she looked back there was a thoughtful expression on her face.
"Maybe."
"We'd better go and join the others," Twilight said, with a voice so quiet that Star almost didn't hear it. Though never one to be strident, this was the most subdued Star had ever seen her. "This is going to be very formal, Star. Try not to insult anyone, for Lucent's sake if nothing else."
At the mention of her Stallion Star felt all the tension of the day coming back, crawling along her limbs like creeping fire. She danced her forehooves, rapping out a quick tattoo on the floorboards and trotted smartly toward the door. A quick glance confirmed that the corridor beyond was empty. Star turned back to Twilight and pulled her into a brief hug.
Twilight froze, taken aback. She blinked and squirmed in Star's forelegs, shrugging off the attention. "What was that for?"
"I—" Star frowned. Twilight was grinning at her and genuinely too, not just for show. She couldn't help but return the gesture. "Nerves. Madness."
"I won't tell anyone," Twilight replied as she sauntered past. "Wouldn't want to ruin your image, would we?"
The particular emphasis Twilight put on the phrase was enough to pique Star's interest. She cantered to catch up to her herdmate, trying to keep the frown from her face. "What image?"
"Oh, you know," Twilight replied, smirking. She stuck her tongue out at Star and cantered away toward the main entrance.
* * *
The grand foyer of Lachrimose House echoed with the quiet murmurings as the herd gathered at its centre, its white marble walls almost glowing in the late afternoon sun that flowed through the crystalline dome seated atop the broad, round space. Servants lined the curving staircase on one side of the rotunda, eyes fixed on the door as they waited for the mare who might well be their future mistress.
And I'll be damned if she is. Star Sparkle grumbled something profane under her breath and sidled close to Lucent. "She's late."
"And we all know how you can't abide tardiness," Twilight Velvet put in from the other side of their Stallion. She grinned and winked at her herdmate across Lucent's back before resuming her 'meeting guests' face and turning to face the door.
"Much as you're so lax and forgiving about punctuality," Star replied, rolling her eyes. Lucent shifted next to her, belying his discomfort with the continued sniping between the pair – something he'd never been able to really deal with over the time they'd been together. Star just ignored him and tried out a few more uncharitable thoughts for the new mare her lover was allegedly to marry.
Weddings. She never understood why anybody bothered with them any more. Certainly she'd exchanged horn rings with Lucent, many years ago, but that was an entirely different level of affairs. That was love. This?
Politics.
The bell chimed. Lucent stepped forward with Star at his side as the butler drew back the broad front doors, letting in the hot, dry air of a Canterlot summer day. Magic flared briefly as enchanted vents detected a change in temperature and began lazily turn over, drawing a cool breeze into the room from cellars deep below.
Two unicorns stood silhouetted in the light, both mares, one with their noses held so high Star was sure she could see right up to their brains. A third trundled along in their wake as they entered, trying to make herself look invisible and almost succeeding until her eyes locked with Star's. She looked away with a loud sniff.
"Her Grace the Duchess Lucerna de Smaragdvea, and her Ladyship Cerulamna de Botici," the butler intoned, bowing deeply. She looked up again as the third mare hesitantly stepped through the door. "And daughter."
The two mares halted before Lucent and Star and waited. Much to Star's disgust, but to the evident approval of his mother, Lucent bowed his head low. Star snorted and looked away.
"I see the description of your son's lead mare was quite accurate, your Grace," the one called Cerulamna said, employing the terminology only ponies of a particular age and class used these days. The other nodded slowly, eyeing Star as if daring her to respond, but Star knew Lucerna's moods by now. Instead she simply smiled, knowing that her silence annoyed her Stallion's mother far more than anything she could say.
"She has her moments, Lady Cerulamna," the Duchess finally replied. Her eyes lidded and her ears turned toward Star as she spoke. "As does my son."
"Yes..."
Star grimaced. She pronounced yes as years, how much more pretension could she possibly manage without exploding in a cloud of narcissistic fluff? Star forced another smile as the elderly mare slowly trotted around them, pausing to poke here at Lucent's shoulder, there at his side, before finally returning to the front and peering at his mouth. The Stallion waited with unusual stoicism as he was prodded and probed by his would-be suitor's mother.
"Yes, well, moments aside, he seems rather well groomed, certainly. Does he have—"
"If you're going to ask about his abilities, my lady, perhaps you should speak to a pony who knows?" Star turned to face the old nag, still smiling and not particularly caring that she looked half an inch away from murdering something. "Shining, step forward, there's a good chap. My son," she continued, as Shining Armour was reluctantly propelled out of the herd by Crystal. The youngster glared over his shoulder and cantered to Star's side, hugging as close as he possibly could to her body.
Lady Cerulamna stared at him, possibly weighing up his value on the Griffin commodity market for all Star knew. The elder mare turned her head to one side and smiled, transforming her face from merely withered to positively cadaverous in the process. At the sight of that hideous grimace, Shining squeaked and tried to hide between Star's legs.
"Such a darling young thing. Though he seems rather dissimilar in shade?"
"Takes after his grandmother," Star said, turning the smile all the way up to obsequious to hide the loathing that churned her gut. It was only her supreme self control that prevented Star from knocking the Marquessa on her rump for the implications of what she said. And to think just a couple of hours ago she'd been contemplating a nice, quiet morning.
"And such a fine heritage," Cerulamna replied. The smile was gone, now that she and Star faced one another. Her eyes burned with the ambition and resentment. "One hopes that our dearest Crincile might take that same heritage and make something useful of it."
"Ever do we hope," Star replied through gritted teeth and solemn face. She wasn't going to make a scene, she wasn't going to make a scene... a quiet sniff to her right caught both mares' attention. Star turned to examine the third unicorn, this Crincile she would be sharing a herd with.
Slender was the word that came to mind. Prim, proper, small. Young. In fact she looked barely nineteen, though Star had long ago realised that she had absolutely no ability to discern another pony's age. She'd been convinced for years that Glint was the same age as Lucent, rather than the fifteen years younger he'd turned out to be. That had been embarrassing to say the least.
The long look she'd been giving Crincile must have noticed. Lady Cerulamna loudly cleared her throat and raised her voice. "Introductions, of course, are in order." She glared at Crincile. The younger mare sniffed again and bowed deeply.
"M'lady, Crincile de Botici. I am honoured that you all would permit my courting of your Stallion."
"O–Of course," Star replied, glancing at Lucent, then at his mother and Cerulamna, who had retreated a short distance to watch. A sly smile crept to her lips. "Of course. Star Sparkle. No title, no honours, so pleased to meet you." She looked about herself with a theatrical air and then down between her legs just as Shining, with perfect timing, poked his head out beneath her chest. "Ah! My son, Shining Armour."
A grin split Crincile's features as she watched Shining's antics. "Oh, he's adorable!"
"He most certainly is," Star replied, eyeing Crincile's perfectly styled mane as the mare leaned down to peer at Shining. Hot pink. She couldn't decide whether it would be worse if it was natural or tinted. "Lets meet the others, shall we? Lucent, stay. Good boy."
Lucent closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Behind him, amongst the other mares, Glint turned his head and snorted, trying to hide a laugh and failing miserably. Crincile blinked and hesitated for a moment before following Star to the rest of the herd.
"Lady Crincile, this is Twilight Velvet. We courted Lucent together."
"A pleasure," Twilight said with just a hint of a bow. "To be fair, Star did most of the courting. I was rather shy in those days."
"Liar," Star replied as she shuffled Crincile along the line to the next pony. "Glint Garnet."
"The model?" Crincile stared at Glint with rapt fascination, her eyes wide as the full moon.
"The one and only," Glint replied with his most disarming smile. He brushed aside his light blue mane and turned his head away as if posing for a photograph. Crincile could only squeak in reply. "Somewhat retired at the moment. I'm in that horrible spot between youth and wisdom where I just can't find the work."
"Well I think you look marvelous! I have a picture of you in my dorm room at the University, the one where you're posing next to a demi-grand with a rose?"
"Thank you! Yes I remember that shoot, so very..." Glint's eyes lost their focus for a moment. He shook his head and took a short breath. "Interesting. Still, always a pleasure to meet a mare with some taste, unlike this old—"
"That's quite enough, Glint," Star cut in. She glared at the stallion as she shuffled Crincile onward. "Honestly these males, they talk as if their continued existence depended on everypony hearing the sound of their voice. Now, this is Crystal Glimmer. She's a grasping social climber."
"How charming," Crystal replied, flicking her ears. Her eyes remained fixed on Crincile as she bowed her head. The unicorn was stared at her, biting her lip. "Is there something the matter, dear?"
"I—"
"Perhaps you'd like to see her kick some mud around," Star said, grinning broadly. She winked at Crystal. The earth pony narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips.
"Please, I'm not—" Crincile swallowed and bit her lip again. "It's the name. I–It just doesn't fit."
"It's quite alright, dear, I get that a lot. It's always a good ice-breaker at parties."
"I saw you from across– no... no that doesn't sound right either. I'm so sorry," she said as Star dragged her on toward the last member of the herd. A shorter unicorn with a bright red coat looked up at Crincile and grinned broadly.
"I'm Scintilla! Hi!" She bounced on her hooves as she spoke, giving both ponies the disturbing impression of a hyperactive tomato. Crincile gave Star an uncertain look and then leaned forward a little to speak.
"H–Hello..."
"What do you think of the mansion? Pretty big, huh? Bet you could lose yourself in this place for days if you don't know your way around! You think you'll be getting one of the rooms at the front? They get the best sun all day, I'd love to have one of those! I got one of the rooms east wing. Great sunrises, though the view is over a big old greenhouse so it's really not that special, but I've got this great big bathroom and a really, really pretty bed."
"I think—"
"Lotta potential as luxury guest apartments, those front spaces..." Scintilla's eyes lost their focus a little as she spoke, until she seemed to be staring at a point some distance behind Crincile's head. "I keep telling Lucerna, let the place go, turn it into a spa or something and buy into something more urban. Most of the capital costs are already sunk, it'd be easy to get a loan to cover the conversion and ponies would flock for miles for the chance to spend time here. The views are so amazing! They'd pay through the nose to get those rooms, but she keeps talking about it being some ancient family residence. Hey maybe if you're in charge you could—"
"Moving on!" Star dragged Crincile away from the still-bouncing mare, who seemed to have finally remembered who she was talking to. Scintilla waved a hoof at Crincile.
"We'll do lunch!"
"I believe I know you from somewhere," Star said quietly as she lead the young mare back toward Lucent, trailing Shining Armour in her wake. The other members of the herd milled around, drawing subtly closer to Lucent as well; they knew what was required of them by now. "From the university."
"You might. I attended your lectures on the Ngulube oral histories shortly before your last trip to Zebrica. It was absolutely fascinating!"
"Was that a compulsory part of your course?"
"Oh, no, it was an elective. I'm studying Equestrian Languages."
"Is that so?" Star turned with a smile as bright as her namesake as she considered this little surprise. Perhaps the mare had some taste after all, just a shame she couldn't have chosen a better mother. "Well, here we are again. This is Lucent, who I suppose you expect to be your Stallion before long. Try not to make him angry, he bites. Say hello, Lucent."
"I'm honoured," Lucent said, eyeing Star as he bowed his head. "Please excuse my lady Sparkle, she has a somewhat rakish sense of humour."
Star rolled her eyes and backed away for a moment to give the pair some space. It was the expected thing and she knew Lucent would be likely to do something rash if she didn't follow the rules right now. Never mind that every fibre in her being screamed to buck this young stripling filly out of the front door and away from her herd... Lucent's eyes flickered toward her, questioning. He would go through with it of course, to please that haridelle masquerading as his mother, but she didn't have to like it.
They spoke for but a few moments, long enough for Lucent's reassuring laughter to echo through the foyer, to everyone's pleasure. He bowed again, and with a great deal of formal motion Crincile brought forth her flowers. Six of them, one for each of the herd, who gathered around Lucent in a small arc to wait. Lucent lowered his head again as Crincile tucked the first bloom behind his ear. She glanced at her mother; Lady Cerulamna nodded fractionally, smiling. She fixed her eyes on Star and that smile grew just a little broader.
The others accepted their flowers in as formal a manner as was possible for the motley bunch Star called herdmates, each smiling and bowing to Crincile as they encouraged her to go on, until finally only Star was left. She waited, and for just a moment Crincile hesitated, a single flower floating in her aura.
"This is a bit... I–I don't have enough... we..." She glanced at Cerulamna again. The old nag's eyes were wide, urging Crincile to do something, but Star couldn't quite work out what. She looked at Crincile again and saw the uncertainty in her eyes. The flower dipped and moved away from Star just a fraction, prompting an equally fractional shudder of anticipation in Lucerna's frame.
Star felt a lead weight dropping into her gut as she realised what the poor filly was being forced to do. That heartless, manipulative cow!
"You don't want to do that," she whispered. Crincile frowned, swallowing, her breath rapid and uneven, the first sign of panic setting in. "Take my advice. Commit yourself completely to this entire herd, or walk away."
"But—"
"No buts! I know what's going on." Star glanced at the two matriarchs again, and noted just a hint of something like hunger in their eyes. "You've been brought here to court a stallion you wouldn't know from a lump of rock, because of some ancient piece of paper that his great grandmother gave to your great grandmother. You don't really want to be here. I don't want you here." Star smiled broadly at Lucent and the two ancient mares lurking at the periphery of the room. She turned slightly to cut them further from the conversation, placing herself firmly between Crincile and Lady Cerulamna's line of sight.
"But they do," she continued. "So we're doomed to go through with this farce no matter what, and never mind what Lucent wants either because, after all, he's only the watering can for the little brood you'll be squirting out of your behind in a year or two." Crincile's indrawn breath wasn't quite enough to break Star's momentum now; she pressed on, ignoring the slight prickle of tears in the young mare's eyes. "I could not give two turns in a grinding wheel whether you join this herd and fulfil your familial duties, but they don't just want that. They want to drive me away from Lucent because I give him naughty ideas about thinking for himself and not being just a tool of their grand ancient plans of family continuity."
Star took a half step forward and leaned her head close to Crincile's ear, the better to whisper to her. "I couldn't care less for title and treasure. I and my foal could be happy with nothing more than my pitiful salary from the university if necessary, but I shall tell you right now, dear child, if you let them use you like this, if you challenge me for this herd, you will spend the rest of your life in a place that makes Tartarus look like a holiday by the beach. Do you understand?"
Eyes wide and mouth hanging slightly ajar, Crincile nodded ever so slightly. The flower dipped toward Star and she caught it deftly with her magic, stuffing it firmly behind her ear with a determined snort. With the flower safely in place, Star looked at Cerulamna and Lucerna again; their eyes narrowed in worrying unison and they leaned close to confer with one another.
"Good girl," she whispered, stepping back, casually flashing the flower around while Crincile shrank away from her mother's now icy glare.
"It appears your daughter thought one of her blooms inferior, Lady Cerulamna," Star declared, turning to the servants. She eyeballed a donkey near rear door of the foyer. "Naturally I've convinced her otherwise, but even so. Slowpoke, be a dear and bring something appropriate from the garden would you?"
"Right you are, m'lady!" The donkey ambled from the room, grumbling loudly about any topic that crossed his mind all the way to the door and beyond. Star smiled broadly at the room in general and in particular at the slightly confused faces of her herd.
"While we're waiting, would anyone care for a drink? Lucerna? You look a little peaky." Star walked slowly to the two matriarchs huddled in the corner. The look Lucerna gave her could have set fire to a lake. "Perhaps some tea? Coffee? I do so enjoy something dark and bitter to perk up the spirit at a time like this. No?"
She paused in front of the two mares and smiled again.
"I look forward to our time together, as a family, Lady de Botici. Your daughter strikes me as rather intelligent."
"Yes..." To her credit, Lady Cerulamna rallied with considerably more grace and speed than the Duchess. She nodded to Star, her ears perking forward as if the conversation was the most interesting one she'd ever had. "Yes, she is rather gifted of the mind. Reading Ancient Equestrian at Canterlot University. Your university, I believe?"
"Not quite mine. I've never felt the need to challenge the Archchancellor's position when I have so much more freedom as a member of the faculty."
"How noble."
"I thought so," Star replied as the echo of a grumbling monologue announced Slowpoke's return. He bore a small basket in his mouth with a half dozen blue Hepatica, a reasonable match for Crincile's coat and certainly close enough for Star's purposes. She scooped up one of the flowers with her magic and levitated it toward Crincile.
"A gift. I know it's a little unorthodox," she said, raising her voice enough for Lucerna to hear. "But I've never been much of one for tradition. I wouldn't wish you to feel any ill will, dear child."
"Th–Thank you," Crincile's voice was barely a whisper. She bowed her head to receive the flower. The others gathered around, all welcoming smiles and greeting, with only a slightly questioning frown from Lucent to give any sign he knew something had happened.
Star sidled up beside him as the herd began to spread itself out again, leaving Crincile sandwiched between Glint and Scintilla as the three discussed the highlights of his career. In a moment's quiet, Crincile looked across the space between them; Star pushed herself that much closer to Lucent and nuzzled his neck, never taking her eyes from the younger mare. The message seemed to pass between them and Crincile looked away, biting her lip.
"We're going to talk, you and I," Lucent said quietly, his voice rumbling in his chest.
"Good."
"Whatever you said to her—"
"Was for her own good, Lucent. And maybe yours as well." Star examined her hoof, idly brushing it against her chest as she spoke. "But mostly mine."
"I have never been able to fault your honesty," he said as Shining Armour crawled into the slight gap between them, grinning up mutely at his parents. Lucent turned to rub his cheek against the little foal's head. "She's the price we pay for this life of ours, Star. Try to understand that. You didn't hold my lineage against me, at least try to do the same for her."
"She almost—" Star bit her lip and closed her eyes. She took a breath and held it, trying to calm herself. Now was not the time. "Lucent, one of these days you're going to have to stop taking your marching orders from that nag."
"I am, but not today. I don't need the stress." He looked over his shoulder at the two matriarchs, quietly conferring in a corner. The servants had long ago dismissed themselves to leave the family in peace. "Speaking of mother, it would appear you've upset her."
"Well she should be used to it by now." There was a squawk of surprise as Lucent shifted his weight, dislodging Shining Armour in the process.
"She's my mother, Star."
Lucent sighed and nuzzled Star's neck. He cantered across the hall to his parent, head bouncing with uncertainty under her stern gaze. Star watched him for a while before turning her attention back to the herd, and to Crincile, who seemed to be worming her way into their affections quite nicely.
Perhaps she could be worked with, Star thought. The young thing had spirit and she had enough sense to defy her mother's oh so casually cruel machinations. She just needed a little guidance.
And Star would be the one to provide it. A final glance over her shoulder revealed that the haridelle that made her life such a misery had departed, though Cerulamna was still hovering in the corner, engaged in awkward conversation with Slowpoke of all ponies. The Marquess glanced toward Star and gave her a curt nod before returning her attention to Slowpoke's rambling.
Star smiled warmly as she trotted over to join the herd, letting herself relax a little now that the obvious danger had passed. All in all it could have been worse. The mare was attractive enough even if she was a little young. If nothing else she could foist Shining off on her for a few days... the others parted as she approached and Crincile smiled shyly at her, blushing under all the attention the others had given her.
"Shortly arriving in Ponyville, change here for Appleoosa, Las Pegasus, Little Roan and Dodge Junction! Ponyville next stop!"
There was a peculiar monotony to train travel after a while. The landscape might vary from mountain to grassland to desert or ice, but sooner or later it began to blur into one long stream of vaguely colourful motion. The variation of landscape became simply a way to mark the passage of time. Entire histories would pass by the window as nothing more than a picture-postcard of the next step of the journey, barely noticed before they had disappeared around the next bend or behind the rushing blur of a copse of trees. Once the novelty of speed had worn off – and it had worn off a long, long time ago – the experience was no different to the hundreds of dreadfully dull excursions Star had undertaken in the back of an open-topped cart across some rain-soaked backwater or other.
Whoever had said the destination was less important than the journey had obviously not travelled any significant distance or she would have realised how stupid that little bit of potted philosophy really was.
Or so thought Star.
Perhaps her cynicism wasn't entirely fair. Here at least she didn't have to contend with occasional angry natives (or grad students as they were also known in some lands), she had a roof over her head to keep off the sun and a seat that was marginally more comfortable than a packing crate. She also had, luxury of luxuries, access to the buffet car and its surprisingly extensive selection of alcoholic drinks. Star smiled down at remaining gin she cradled between her forelegs and quickly emptied the glass as the train began to slow.
Her cheer was cut short as the familiar shadow of Twilight Velvet fell across her seat.
"Getting an early start?"
"This is breakfast," Star replied without looking up. The shadow moved just as the train lurched and a silver-grey pony tumbled into the seat opposite, cursing under her breath. Twilight Velvet glared at the floor as if it had just personally insulted her, before turning the same loathing eyes on Star.
"Your morning lectures must be interesting."
"The few students that turn up for them tend to agree." Star glanced over her shoulder at the other members of her herd, currently huddled around a table and playing some sort of card game. A little filly lay on her back between Crincile and Lucent, snoring fitfully. "Guiding?"
"She's asleep."
For a while there was just the clatter of the train as it continued to slow, neither pony being particularly willing to talk. Occasionally Velvet's eyes would snap toward the window and the growing bulk of Ponyville before returning to a spot on the seat next to Star's leg. Her mouth worked, twisting between the wide variety of grimaces the long years of exposure to Star had taught her until she finally spoke.
"If you do anything to screw this up–"
"Oh kick out the horseapples Twilight, there's nothing I could do to make this mess any worse than it already is."
Velvet hummed and raised an eyebrow at the ire in Star's voice. "I rather had the impression you were enjoying this little farce."
"I am. That's why I've taken to drinking at eleven in the morning."
Star let the empty glass slip to the seat beside her. She followed Twilight's gaze out toward the outskirts of the town and immediately wished she hadn't. The gaily coloured buildings shone like a migraine-inducing rainbow of brick and mortar, their intensity only growing as the train drew near its destination.
"Is it a choice, do you think?"
"What?"
"The pink everywhere. The hearts. The whole picaresque candy-cane monstrosity." Star squeezed her eyes shut and waved a hoof at the window. "Maybe it's because they live next to so many existentialist nightmares. Celestia alone knows why she chose to stay out here."
"Have you considered that she might like it?"
"I considered it." Star waved a hoof at the window again, accompanying the gesture with a dismissive snort for good measure. She saw Twilight's jaw tighten, but for once her herdmate didn't rise to the obvious bait.
The train lurched as it crossed a switch, its wheels hissing and squealing against the last bend of the line approaching Ponyville Station. The motion almost tumbled Twilight Velvet from her seat again, but she held on tight, pressing back against the train with a quick flare of her magic and a well-timed hoof. Never once taking her eyes from the view outside. Never letting them come near Star. Suddenly her eyes widened and she stiffened, her ears dropping low alongside her head. Star let her gaze follow Velvet's and found herself staring at a distant figure loping two-legged and upright across the grassy parkland on the outskirts of the town. She grinned.
"Like what you see?"
"How could she possibly do anything with that–" Twilight Velvet squeezed her eye shut and very deliberately turned her head away from the window.
"Wait until you see him up close, dear," Star replied. She stuck her tongue between her teeth for a moment and wiggled her eyebrows. "Those fingers of his make a minotaur look positively pedestrian."
"Star–"
"And he has extras too." She ostentatiously licked her lips and let her eyes flare wide. "And more on his feet I hear. Wriggling away inside his boots like little worms."
"Stop it! Just– just stop!" Twilight Velvet hopped from her seat and turned to leave. She paused by Star and finally deigned to look her in the eye. "You've got a lot to answer for, Star. Whatever you did to encourage this–"
"As you're so fond of pointing out, Twilight, she may have been my daughter but you're the one who raised her."
The hubbub around them grew as the train finally crawled into the station. Ponies left and right began standing, stretching and pulling at luggage, forcing Star and Twilight Velvet apart before they could continue the argument. And that suited Star just fine; it probably suited Twilight just fine too. The last time they'd been able to have a simple conversation without resorting to insults...
"Was it really so long ago?"
Ignoring the confused stare from a stallion in the next seat, Star shook her head and pulled down the slender saddlebag she'd brought for the journey before chasing after the bobbing head of her herdmate.
A cloud of steam drifted down the platform as she dismounted, obscuring Star's view for a moment. When it cleared Twilight was gone, lost in the press of ponies trying to board the train. The crowd was far larger than the size of the station might suggest filling the single line platform to almost capacity even before the train had arrived. It was always a surprise to Star how busy the place could be. She pushed through the crowd, employing the occasional jab of her horn or spark of magic against the flank of any pony that didn't get out of the way fast enough and ignoring the muttered complaints that followed her like a bad smell.
The ticket hall was as deserted as the platform was crowded and virtually silent once the door closed behind Star. The only ponies she could see were a haggard ticket collector cowering in his booth, a janitor idly pushing a broom and two of her herd lurking in the shadow of a timetable. She trotted toward them, idly watching the ticket clerk as he surreptitiously took a slug from a little metal flask concealed beneath his desk.
Crincile's cocked eyebrow was the only acknowledgment she gave Star as she approached. The Marquesa was perusing the timetable, apparently fascinated by the little columns of almost illegible numbers and all their variations and caveats. To Crincile's side Glint stood idle and uninterested in the surroundings, his head tilted to one side as he stared at a point somewhere near the ceiling.
"Says here," Crincile mused, "that there's are non-stop sleeper services to the Crystal Empire and Manehattan. For a provincial town they have some very direct connections."
"I can't imagine what sort of influence would bring that about," Star replied solemnly. She glanced at the board but quickly found her gaze straying to a blonde-maned pegasus who had entered the far end of the room. The pegasus turned at that very moment and their eyes met. She winked at Star and quickly looked away again.
The unicorn coughed and tried to push away the happy little thoughts fluttering through her brain. She grabbed Crincile around the withers and pulled her close.
"Where did you disappear to on the train anyway?"
"Oh, did you want me to hold your hoof for the whole journey?"
"Certainly not! I just needed someone to hold my drink."
"You really should cut back on that," Crincile replied as Star lead the trio out of the station building and onto the open, grassy streets of Ponyville. "I saw you sneaking off to the buffet. Twice."
"As I told Velvet, that was breakfast."
"Of course it was, and Glint here is a piece of toast."
"And here I am without any butter," Star said as she idly nuzzled Glint's neck. The stallion leaned in toward her and chuckled, though the way his head tilted toward the sky made it clear his mind was still off in some other realm. A quick jab in the ribs brought his attention back to more earthly matters. He glared at her, rubbing his side.
"What was that for?"
"Just making sure you hadn't let your brain slip out of that pretty head of yours again."
Glint rolled his eyes and snorted.
The three ponies found themselves on a broad avenue leading toward the centre of town, one side of which was lined with shuttered and empty market stalls. A few ponies were hauling away carts, their work finished for the day. In the distance a lone hawker tried to catch the last dregs of trade. Despite Star's earlier complaints she could see there was a certain sort of charm to the place. The air was fresh and clean, ponies cantered back and forth without much care despite the proximity of so much insanity. It was so unlike Canterlot with its heaving stone streets, grimey, dry air and the ever-present miasma of guilty snobbery hanging over the everything. Maybe she could retire out here and spend some time really getting to know her daughter.
Star took another look around at the ruralist fantasy, noting the way everypony smiled like their life depended on it. They were always waving to one another as well. It was like something out of the Trotford Stallions. Maybe I'll come to stay. And maybe Twilight will grow wings and become a princess.
They found Lucent and Velvet relaxing at a small cafe near the town hall, nickering over tea cakes while Velvet's foal stumbled around in the grass with muffin stuffed in her mouth and a huge grin plastered on her face. Occasionally she would pause to nibble at the treat, but most of the time she seemed content to just hold it as part of some foalish game, the rules of which Star knew she would never be able to understand.
For a moment the elder unicorn hung back, watching the little filly as she played under the table. Star had never seen her own Twilight at this age except briefly on her return from Prance, by which time the youngster had started to grow out of merely playing and had begun consuming the contents of her father's library in earnest. The young Twilight had taken one look at Star and then locked herself in with the books and refused to come out until Star had gone to bed.
Her view was interrupted by Glint and Crincile both as they moved to join the pair at the table. Star found herself frowning. The thought had come at her from nowhere– but that wasn't strictly true. She was here, her daughter was here and she was faced with a filly who was almost the spitting image of the younger Twilight. What else would she think about? Logic and reason restored once again, Star sauntered over to the table and flopped down on a spare cushion next to Lucent, earning herself a withering glare from Velvet in the process
"Nice of you to join us at last."
A pot of tea floated toward Star, wrapped in Twilight Velvet's aura. Star stared at it as the tea poured into a cup, followed by a teaspoon of honey and a squeeze of lemon. The simple kindly act was a huge concession from Star's herdmate.
"Your mood seems to have improved."
"Yes, I expect it's the surroundings," Twilight Velvet replied with casual wave that took in pretty much the entire town. "All the pink and hearts and such. It really is rather uplifting."
Star snorted and turned to her tea. It was one of those tiny cups, the sort that the refinedgentle mares of high society so adored for some reason. It was barely a thimble, not a patch on the enormous tin mug she kept in her office. That battered old thing had served Star steaming hot mugs of somewhat fortified coffee all the way across Zebrica and Hindia, and would occasionally come out of hiding when she wanted to generate the particular image of the Great Pink Explorer that some of her more easily gulled visitors found so charming.
Cake. Now there was something she never had out in the field, occasional baking attempts by her postgrad field assistants notwithstanding. Star plucked a dainty from the table and popped it into her mouth, savouring the treat and wondering why she didn't partake more often. The university refectory must surely be stuffed with the things, but a steady diet of hard tack and Plantain over several decades had put her right out of the habit.
She stood up, smiling broadly at her assembled herd. "Well. Fun as this little tea party is we do have a carnivorous monster to visit. It wouldn't be wise to keep him waiting."
Lucent pulled her to one side as the others sidled away from the cafe. He tossed a few bits on the table. "Monster, Star?"
"That's what he is according to those scandal rags you always have your nose buried in."
"That would be Glint," Lucent responded with a dour frown. He waved a copy of the Canterlot Times at Star and then tapped her on the nose with it. "I read a respectable newspaper."
"Oh yes, the Times." Star snatched the paper from Lucent's magic and unfurled it, pretending to read the headlines as she and Lucent walked away from the table. "I had the misfortune to meet its editor at the last Dean's lunch. She was rather excited about the latest story her paper was running on the 'monkey fucker'."
"I'm sure she didn't intend–"
"She said it to my face, Lucent. She knew who I was." As they caught up with the others the paper exploded into a cloud of finely shredded fluff that was quickly carried away on the breeze. "Scandal rags."
A few feathers of paper skittered past Twilight Velvet's nose. She watched them until they were lost to her sight and then rolled her eyes toward Star. "This wouldn't have anything to do with their story about your little tet-a-tet with Cinnamon the other year, would it?"
"No it would not have anything to do with their laughably foalish attempt to destroy my career and portray me as a heartless herd-breaker merely because our courting was a little unorthodox."
"Unorth–" Velvet halted in her tracks, blinking hard as she tried to think of a response. "Star, she only courted us because of the scandal you two caused with that silly stunt on the palace roof!"
"I didn't think it was so bad. Besides, whatever the newspapers said she was already courting us by then and you know it." Star glanced at Twilight and then at the little filly riding her back. Guiding Light was staring at Star with uncomprehending eyes and the remnants of her muffin still clinging to the hair around her mouth. "And what are you looking at?"
The little filly grinned at Star and pointed a hoof. "Silly pony!"
"That sounds familiar," Star muttered darkly.
The group resumed their trek through the centre of the town. As they passed the library Star glanced briefly up at the window she knew had been Twilight's bedroom and was struck by the sudden realisation that somehow this human had managed to pull young Twilight away from her books. She was so lost in the thought that she didn't quite notice the others had stopped. Only a well-timed glance saved her from walking into Lucent's rear, not that she would have complained all that much. The stallion looked at Star as she stepped around him and sidled up to his shoulder. His forelegs tramped at the freshly cut grass of the street and he turned his eyes toward the building before them.
"Is this the place?"
Lucent's head bobbed as he eyed the door. Whilst it wasn't the largest they had ever seen – the main doors on the family mansion of Lachrimose House were far larger – it was enormous compared to the building it was awkwardly faced into. Little else about the house distinguished it from its neighbours, save that it was a little larger than average.
"Of course it's the place," Star huffed. She rapped on the door and stepped back to wait. "You spend all your time observing the stars, you think you'd be more detail-oriented."
"I am, my dear. I can certainly spot the little details that tell me when a particular star is about to explode."
"Amusing."
Star glanced to one side as Twilight Velvet sidled up next to her again. Whatever feud had existed between them was forgotten for the moment as the wide-eyed unicorn stared at the door. She took a step toward Lucent without a word. The others pressed in closer as well, wrapping around the two stallions like a brightly coloured wall. Even Star felt the urge to push herself in front of them, standing between her stallions and the ill-defined danger that door presented to the primitive parts of her mind. Instead she locked her knees and pounded on the door again.
"You'd have thought they would send someone to meet us," Glint said quietly. He lowered his head across Lucent's withers and fixed Star with one of his mare-killing grins. "They did know we were coming didn't they?"
"Oh my dear Glint, I'm shocked at how little you must trust me to say that." Star lifted her snout in the air and pouted. "It's almost like you think I'd just have us turn up unannounced."
"Mmm."
The conversation was interrupted by a thump and the sound of muted voices beyond the door. The sound of laughter spilled out into the street as the door opened and Twilight Sparkle followed close behind, her head turned back to the shady interior of the house as she stepped out.
"I'll just deal with this and we can–"
Twilight's voice died in her throat as she came face to face with the herd. Her forelegs locked, bringing her to a stumbling halt and she stared at the group with wide, uncomprehending eyes. For a while she simply stood there, barely moving, barely seeming to even breathe. Then something seemed to tick over in her mind and bring her back to life. She closed her eyes and held up a hoof.
"Excuse me a moment."
Twilight backed away and closed the door. A loud screech slipped out around the hinges, accompanied by a bright flash of light and a sound akin to a bursting paper bag. Lucent, Velvet and Glint all turned to stare at Star and all three let out the same exasperated sigh.
"Well." Star lifted her hoof and eyed it critically. "Perhaps I neglected to mention exactly who would be arriving. Or when."
"And you wonder why she never wants to have anything to do with you," Twilight Velvet grumbled as the door popped opened again. The mare opening it peeked her pale green snout through the narrow gap and cautiously eyed the herd.
"Oh. Star." The door swung wide and the mare stepped out, moving with the sort of fluid grace that would make a cat look clumsy. She tilted her head toward Star and pursed her lips.
"Loopy."
"It's Lyra. Don't try and convince me you forgot." Lyra Heartstrings grinned and shook her head. "I should have known it was you when Twilight teleported herself under the bed. It'll take ages to coax her out again."
"Nonsense, I'll have her out in moments!"
The mare snorted and rolled her golden eyes. For a brief moment she smiled again, until her gaze moved to Glint and the expression faltered into confused recognition. The filly on Velvet's back yawned and lifted her head to stare wide-eyed at the strange new pony.
"I see you brought the rest of your family along."
Star bristled at the tone of Lyra's voice. She drew herself up to her full height, one leg raised in what she hoped was an image of aloof nobility, though the way the other three wobbled just a little didn't help the image much.
"Some of them." The stance wasn't working. Possibly regretting her 'breakfast' a little, Star lowered her hoof and tried to steady herself before she fell over. "I thought it would be a nice surprise."
"Star, your idea of a surprise is treated as a capital crime in some countries." Lyra's gaze idly roved across the herd. The smile was back again, the one that Star had never quite been able to read even though she considered herself to be a fairly good judge of other ponies' moods. Knowing when she had pushed her luck too far was a useful skill for a one such as she, but with Lyra it was impossible to tell.
"Maybe it would be best if we took this indoors," Twilight Velvet said quietly, still fussing with her foal. The youngster kept trying to peer past Velvet's head at Lyra. "I'd rather not have the whole town subjected to one of Star's little episodes."
"My little–"
"Not to mention it's getting just a little chilly out here," Lucent added with a wary glance at the sky. A thin layer of cloud had rolled over as they'd waited and was now blocking out more and more of the sun as it thickened. Star could see pegasi flitting amongst the clouds, corralling the weather into what she hoped would be an overcast but dry afternoon.
One in particular caught her eye, scooting back and forth at the head of a multihued trail of light, her indistinct shouts alternating between encouragement and berating. After some time it seemed she gave up the directing and dove away from the group, angling straight toward Star and the house.
"Is that Rainbow Dash?" Crincile edged a little closer to Lucent.
Lyra nodded confirmation and looked up at her herdmate. "She must have finished her shift."
"She's coming down awfully fast."
It was true. Normally a pegasus would at least try to slow down as they came in to land, flaring their wings in the sort of pretty display Star always enjoyed watching when she had the chance. Dash didn't seem interested in stopping as she plummeted toward the group, or even slowing down. Her wings were folded flat and her forelegs were tucked tight against her body and if not for the riotous laughter echoing across Ponyville it would have been easy to assume she was about to crash.
Scant feet from the ground Dash's wings popped out, pulling her into a perfectly executed swoop and flare over the heads of the assembled ponies. Sadly Star had little time to admire the view. The young pegasus seemed to lose concentration and careened straight toward Star. Rainbow's wings seemed to wrap around Star's body like an all-encompassing shroud, which would have been immensely enjoyable if not for the rest of the pegasus following along behind like a rainbow-hued boulder.
Strangely it was the wings that hurt the most. Rainbow Dash's physique was lithe and frankly rather admirable, quite a change from the languorously plump mental midgets high society tended to surround Star with, but that robust strength carried over into every part of the pegasus' body. Including the two very large and powerful wings that had just left a rib-cracking bruise down either side of Star's barrel.
Still, she thought as they tumbled across the street, it wasn't as bad as that time when–
Her musings were cut short by a loud yell and an all-encompassing green blur. The yell was Rainbow Dash, though it was more of a surprised shout than anything reflecting the various aches and pains Star felt after her unexpected tumble. The green blur... Star sat up and blew a clump of grass cuttings from the end of her snout.
"Talk about a roll in the hay," she muttered. Rainbow Dash sat up next to her, frowning at the sound of Star's voice. "Well hello my dear, did you enjoy our little tumble?"
"Star?" Rainbow shook her head and body, sending a spray of grass into the air. She sat up on her haunches as Lyra trotted across the street to meet them. "Lyra! Did you see that?"
"Yes Dash, I saw your amazing new acrobatic trick that's sure to wow the Wonderbolts and get you on the team without all that pesky training they have to do." Lyra poked at the grass with her hoof and frowned at Star. "I'm sorry about this. I promise she's working on her landings."
"Hey I can land just fine! I'm on the ground aren't I?" Rainbow Dash ran her hooves over her mane, dislodging a shower of grass. "What are all these ponies doing outside the house anyway? Did Twilight invite more of those hippy-logies to come poke at Lero? You know he hates that."
"Hippologists," Star said. Rainbow Dash's eyes narrowed.
"And that's another thing, what are you doing back here?"
"Am I not allowed to visit my own dear daughter? Even if she does choose to hide away from me when I do."
Rainbow looked to Lyra, who shrugged. "She's under the bed. Long story."
"Actually it's a very short story," Star countered.
Rainbow fluffed her wings but didn't bother climbing out of her grassy shelter just then. Between attempts at preening the worst of the grass from between her feathers she stared hard at Star with an expression that seemed entirely too knowing for the unicorn's liking. "You brought the whole family huh?"
"I only brought a selection, the others will be arriving tomorrow. If I'd wanted real fireworks I could have brought her all her brothers and sisters–"
"Wait wait wait..."
Rainbow held up a hoof for silence as she stood. She shook her head, dislodging a few blades of grass from her mane, then stepped back and flapped her wings with a single, powerful stroke. The grass exploded away from her into a swirling cloud of green. Somehow the majority managed to land on Lyra. She raised her eyebrow at Dash. The pegasus stuck out her tongue.
"Twilight only has one brother," she said as Lyra began picking grass from her coat. "He's a cool guy."
"She only told you about one brother. Did you honestly think a herd as large and old as mine would only have two foals?" Star shook her head in mock disappointment. "Really now, I thought you were much smarter than that."
"Hey!"
Star backed up a step. She'd forgotten how easily provoked Rainbow Dash could be. The flier's wings were already itching the flare, twitching and quivering against her body in a sign of her profound irritation. Fortunately for Rainbow's pride and Star's skull, Lyra stepped between the pair before either could escalate the situation. She put a restraining hoof on Rainbow's neck and turned to face Star. Even with the grass hanging from her fringe she projected the clear image of a pony who was not to be trifled with
"Twilight only told her friends about her brother a few days before his wedding." Lyra lowered her hoof again and her eyes seemed to focus on some point behind Star's head. The moment passed. Lyra brushed a hoof through her mane and smiled again. "I was one of Princess Cadence's flower fillies and I didn't even know Twilight was the groom's sister until she showed up on the day. Of course my memory's a little hazy what with one thing and another, but I don't remember you being there either."
"Yes, well communication has never been this herd's particular strong point and to be frank she's never got on all that well with them. Or they with her." Star paused. It would have been easy to drop some little joke then, but for once she didn't want to press the point. "Perhaps we should go inside. The others are no doubt getting restless."
"No doubt. Hey Rainbow?" Lyra turned to her companion. The pegasus was idly poking a hoof in her ear and staring up at the sky with a frown. "You wanna go and let Lero know what's going on?"
"What? Oh! Yeah sure, I can do that. I haven't seen him all day!" Rainbow leapt to the air with a powerful thrust of her wings and was gone in moments, crossing the short distance to the house like a stone shot from a sling. Star hummed appreciatively as she watched the receding pegasus.
"She cuts rather a striking figure, wouldn't you say Loopy? If I were a few years younger..." Star sighed and shook her head. Strangely Lyra didn't seem to share the sentiment.
"Even if you were and she were available, she's about as interested in mares as you are in being kind to your daughter."
"How I treat my offspring–"
"Is entirely my business today," Lyra finished. She stalked around Star, no longer even pretending to smile. Now Star was viscerally aware of just how feral and cat-like this mare's movements were, every motion of her body as precise and deliberate as an intricate clockwork. She half expected Lyra's pupils to have narrowed to snake-like slits. "I don't know what the issue is between you and Twilight. She hasn't chosen to share that part of her life with me yet. As long as you're under our roof you keep it to yourself."
"I can't promise anything on my daughter's behalf."
"I'm not asking you to," Lyra replied curtly. The smile was back again, just the hint of a curl to her lips, but her golden eyes remained cold and impassive. "Now, as you said the others are probably becoming impatient. Shall we?"
Lyra held out a hoof toward the house and smiled broadly. With a stillness that seemed quite unnatural she waited until Star turned away, then dropped her foreleg to follow the elder unicorn.
The short walk with the accompaniment of her now silent escort reminded Star of a time she'd been arrested for public indecency in her university days. The events leading up to the moment had been fun even if the roof of the Snowdrop Building had been slightly traumatised by the affair. The experience of being marched across campus to a waiting paddy wagon by two very sturdy Royal Guard stallions had been extremely educational.
The others looked expectantly at Star as she walked toward them, but rather than say anything she simply followed Lyra into the house. She was soon rewarded with the sound of several ponies trying to squeeze through the door at the same time.
Beyond the tiny cloistered porch was a comfortable living room with an eclectic sprawl of furniture spread around it. The walls rose far higher than the size of the room would have suggested, high enough that Princess Celestia would have had little trouble spreading her wings. Coupled with the narrow size it gave the space an awkward, confined feeling that was at odds with the inviting warmth of the decor.
The herd huddled in the middle of the room until Glint snorted and flung himself onto the couch. He bounced up and down a few times before sprawling in a classic pin-up pose. He winked at Star.
"Now that's comfortable."
Soon the others had joined him, spreading around the room until only Star and Lyra were left standing. The younger unicorn kept glancing at Glint and frowning. Eventually she managed to drag her eyes from the stallion and onto Star, perhaps coincidentally as Rainbow Dash kicked open the door. Quiet conversation echoed briefly around the room as the pegasus sauntered toward them.
"We managed to get Twi out from under the bed. She's kinda upset but Lero's talking her down, so..." Rainbow looked about the room. "Kinda crowded in here."
"Warm too." Lyra's comment was accompanied by another furtive glance at Glint. The stallion shot her a wink and another grin. Rainbow Dash frowned at her partner.
"You okay Lyra?"
"Fine. I'm just curious to know who everyone is since Star's letter kind of implied she'd be here by herself."
The herd turned to look at Star, their expressions ranging from confused to resigned. Lyra's smile was back too, though the slight flush of her cheeks rather ruined the effect. Rainbow Dash frowned again but then dismissed the thought with a shrug and sat down on the floor. "Twi hasn't told us anything about you guys. I met Lucent and her mom– no, wait, Twilight. The other Twilight. Velvet." Rainbow rubbed the side of her head. "I mean I met you two and–"
"What Rainbow is trying to say is that you should introduce us," Lyra said. She settled herself next to the pegasus, moving as close as she could without quite touching her. Star filed that little tidbit away for future thought as she turned to the group with a broad smile.
"Very well. Rainbow Dash, Loopy–"
"Lyra."
"– this is Crincile, Lucent, Twilight Velvet and her filly Guiding Light, and Glint Garnet."
"Hi guys." Rainbow held up a hoof in greeting, though Lyra was strangely silent. She stared at Glint for a moment and then, quite without warning, jumped in the air and squealed.
"The Glint Garnet?" Lyra bounced across the room in a most undignified way, a grin stretching almost from ear to ear as she advanced on the poor stallion. "Oh my god I love you!"
"Your– your what?" Confused by the odd profanity and even odder behaviour, Glint shook his head and tried to restore the aloof grin he'd held up to now but it was evidently beyond him. He scooted backward on the couch. "Um. Well it's nice to meet a f-fan, I suppose. Even if they are rather, ah, enthusiastic."
Lyra's eyes widened and she flopped back and away from Glint, panting slightly from the exertion. "Right, sorry. It's just I never– I had posters of you all over my room when I was a filly. You were so gorgeous! I mean you still are!"
"A filly you say." Glint glanced at Crincile, who shot him a cheeky wink before moving to Lyra's side. The younger unicorn blinked up at her, just a hint of confusion creeping into her gaze, followed shortly by the brightest blush Star had ever seen.
Lyra took another step back and hung her head. "Well now you think I'm crazy."
"If it helps, I just about up and fainted when I met him," Crincile replied. She rubbed a comforting hoof across Lyra's withers and lightly pressed her cheek to the younger unicorn's face. "He is gorgeous, there's no denying it."
"And I don't think you're crazy," Glint added, though his lips quivered just a little as he smiled. Lyra could see the obvious lie and shook her head. He glanced at Lucent. The elder stallion shrugged.
"Perhaps we should start again," he rumbled. "I remember you both from my son's wedding. An interesting day."
Lyra nodded slightly, letting her attention fall from Glint to the foal gamboling around her legs. She smiled at the filly. "Interesting is one way to put it. I'm afraid I don't remember much about the day."
Star let her attention wander from the conversation. It was only covering things she'd heard before and besides, she found weddings about as enticing as foals and undercooked fish. A quick step brought her to Rainbow Dash, who was watching the proceedings with marginally more interest than Star felt.
"Perhaps I should go and attend to my daughter," she said quietly. Rainbow Dash frowned.
"She's pretty mad at you, Star."
"That's normal." Star sidled past the pegasus and made for the door to the next room. "So I'll just–"
"Wait!" Rainbow turned to haul Star back but she'd already reached the door. It opened under the light touch of her magic and she stepped through, ignoring the pegasus wrapped around her abdomen as much as she possibly could.
"–nywhere near me again I might..."
Twilight's voice trailed off as Star entered the room. Her daughter was seated at a table with two others. The first was a zebra, which was unusual enough out here in the sticks, but Star's eye was immediately drawn to the figure at Twilight's side. The human. Though they'd met before and she'd even gotten to know him a little it was still unusual to see such a strikingly odd pairing, despite her own dalliances in the past.
Three pairs of eyes moved to Star and then to Rainbow Dash, who was still ineffectually tugging at her body. When it became clear Star wasn't giving any ground Rainbow Dash roughly pushed past the unicorn and sat down in front of her.
"Don't you ever listen?"
"No." Star pushed past Rainbow in turn and sauntered up to the table, for some reason feeling inordinately pleased with the way all three of its occupants were staring at her. She smiled and settled into a chair. Behind her, Rainbow Dash snorted.
"Maybe you should try it some time."
Star leered over her shoulder at the pegasus. "And miss out on the opportunity to have your hooves all over me dear?"
Rainbow's ears dropped flat against her head and her eye twitched. Wings fluttering against her sides, the pegasus began to circle Star with a menacingly slow gait that seemed strangely familiar. Star deliberately looked away and found Twilight frowning at her with an expression so similar to her namesake that she almost burst out laughing.
The human slipped his hand around the back of Twilight's neck, pausing to brush his fingers against a spot near the base of her skull. The sight brought a smile to Star's face.
"Another way you take after the old mare?" The smile broadened as her eyes narrowed. Twilight just glared at her. "Well. Perhaps not."
Lero placed one of his hands on the table. "Rainbow, maybe you should go check on Lyra."
"You sure about that, big guy?"
"Yeah." He smiled just a little as he glanced toward Dash. His hand was gently stroking Twilight's cheek from behind, though Twilight seemed disinclined to react to it. "I've got things here."
They sat in silence as Rainbow left the room. Star let the cheery grin fade from her face and closed her eyes.
"So, now I'm not in mortal danger any more–"
"I don't know about that," Twilight replied. Her eyes were cold when Star looked at her and her mouth was turned down. Strangely her ears were up, more alert than angry. Star couldn't tell if that was a good sign.
Lero was as unreadable as ever.
"At least we'd be keeping it in the family." Star tried another smile, but the humour was lost on her daughter. Again. She looked across the table at the silent zebra and pondered her for a moment. "Oh, this must be Zecora! Twilight has told me so very much about you, my dear. I must admit I was surprised at the way she apparently reacted at your first appearance."
"Mother."
"No surprise should be found in Twilight's behaviour," the Zebra said through a conciliatory smile. She patted Twilight's hoof. "Besides, by her actions she was soon my saviour."
"Well if you want to excuse her that's your choice," Star replied. She could almost feel the heat of Twilight's embarrassment and couldn't help a little grin. "Interesting patois... Impalawi?"
"It is of my home yes and you are correct in your guess," Zecora replied. She put her drink to the table and leaned toward Star with a curious frown. "You have left this shore and travelled those lands before?"
"Oh, more times than you could count, for as long as I can remember," Star said. For a moment she was back on the plains, swishing through long grass up to her belly as she trailed behind a nomad herd. "Long enough to learn the 'grassy natta' anyway"
"Grassy natta!" Zecora's jaw flexed and a grin spread across her face at the familiar sound of the plains creole. She leaned toward Star a little more as she replied, waving a hoof at Twilight and kicking up her chin. "Your filly didn't tell me you spoke that. She didn't say much else either come to think of it. Have you been to the Marengeti? Did you go out to Impalawi before she was born?"
"Oh, more times than you could count, for as long as I can remember," Star said. For a moment she was back on the plains, swishing through long grass up to her belly as she trailed behind a nomad herd. "Longit moy talky natta yula goit so."
"Grassy natta sah!" Zecora's jaw flexed and a grin spread across her face at the familiar sound of the plains creole. She leaned toward Star a little more as she replied, waving a hoof at Twilight and kicking up her chin. "Yula filly sayit none yula talky natta mo! Her sayit nothin ava neither so. Yula gan takit wayso grassy sittin? Yula heddy im'lawi forit filly droppin?"
"Before all those wildcats!" Star bobbed her head toward Twilight and then pointed over her back at the invisible horizon. "I had him after visiting the Mangwa, made a bit of a fool of myself in the back of an Ass's cart in the middle of going somewhere important, so we came home before I ended up having him in the middle of Borundi. Kept throwing up everywhere, I wasn't happy."
Zecora laughed and pounded the table with her hoof. "You're the spitting Celestian monster! I thought it was just dumb donkey stories!"
"I was throwing up all over the place. Anyway, when I had her I also had a bit of a scrap with my herd. I went off to Impalawi right after she was born to a dig recovering some ancient donkey artefacts. Scrolls. It brought me a little fame."
"Forit ola them amagola!" Star bobbed her head toward Twilight and then pointed over her back at the invisible horizon. "Him droppin afta mangwa sayit ana sittin pretty assdrag so, aba makey heddy round ava ways round futh makey heddy home forit him droppin borundi su so. Makey spittin moy mo, mula sittin pretty so ya?"
Zecora laughed and pounded the table with her hoof. "Yula lanya spitty selestis so! Mula hearit bein asstalky mo!"
"Mula spittin ava ways so sah. Ana sayit her droppin moy makey abalwa numlhambi mo. Mula heddy im'lawi su aftrit, wela digup loada duncan nattawraps. Moygqama mo."
The zebra glanced at Twilight and nodded her head slowly. "Sounds like your sisters and you had a really big fight"
"Like you would not believe," Star replied. She tapped her hooves against the table while she thought of a way off the topic. "So did you follow the donkey migrants over here or what?"
"No I came a different way. I came to Equestria after my work dried up over there and my mother died." Zecora rolled her glass between her hooves and stared into it. Her expression was unreadable, but that wasn't surprising. Zebra were very good at hiding their emotions when they wanted to. "I wasn't thinking too well and I kind of got myself stuck living in the Everfree after I ran out of money."
"You look like you're making plenty now, did you find some other work?"
The zebra glanced at Twilight and nodded her head slowly. "Filly sisinu moy gula kickit like mad so ya?"
"Makey kickit like ass mo," Star replied. She tapped her hooves against the table while she thought of a way off the topic. "Say yula tailin duncan kula ulwandle way sah?"
"Hah soy, heddy ava way sah, heddy selestis su way afta dunlosin umsebenzi, osa wa umama dun dirtlala njalo njalo see?" Zecora rolled her glass between her hooves and stared into it. Her expression was unreadable, but that wasn't surprising. Zebra were very good at hiding their emotions when they wanted to. "Moy gula sadlike mula thatha lango waitab afta mula stickin wet muddy and ava iminyaka makey no bits so."
"Yula makey gula bits settin ubesebenza in ava doin so?"
"Oh I'm making a fortune! Enough to fix up my old place after next winter wrapup for sure. I've made so many bits selling cheap rubbish. These Celestians..." Zecora tapped the front of her head with her hoof and blew a raspberry. "They're crazy!"
Star burst out laughing. "You say that, but you're the one sat in a mud pit!"
"Oh! Makey assdrag loada bits so sah! Mula moy fixit lodge dun wrapit so, makey so pilin bits soy ngangukudayisa amasimba. Ola selestis hlambi." Zecora tapped the front of her head with her hoof and blew a raspberry. "Awanubuchophoi!"
Star burst out laughing. "Yula sayit so ya! Yula sittin down wet muddy after so ava ways!"
"Better to sit in mud and share friendship than live in finery and let it slip," Zecora replied. Again Star laughed, this time at the solemn tone of Zecora's voice as it delivered so many horseapples. The Zebra's mouth twisted into a smirk as she tugged a bottle from her saddlebag under the table and set it on the table. "Please tell me more of your journeys about my lands, Star Sparkle of Canterlot. Perhaps I know of things and places yet that you do not?"
"Yes, let's get ratted and reminisce the old country."
Star watched the drink as it was poured, disappointed to find it looked more like weak brandy than the sort of treats she'd tasted on the grasslands. She lifted the glass to her lips and took a tentative taste. It burned as she swallowed it, enough that she had to take a moment to let the fire die away in her throat before she could breathe properly. The spirit was pungent and smoky, a heady blend of overripe fruit and open fires burning in the bright of spring.
She bit back on a cough and stared at her glass with renewed interest. "I've never had this before. What is it?"
"It is a brew of ancient provenance, though many view it quite askance. In the tongue of Roam the ancient city, it would be named as aquavite."
"Water of life?" Star held her glass up to the light and peered through the pale liquid within. "It looks more like– well. What's it made from?"
"Barley, corn and water fresh, smoked and brewed, distilled from mash–"
The table shook as Lero fell off his seat, arms flailing as he tried to catch himself before he hit the floor. For once any of the grace the human seemed to possess was gone as he hauled himself up to the table and grabbed the bottle in both grasping hands.
"That sounds like..." He sniffed tentatively at the bottle and winced at the smoky scent of the brew within. "Bourbon! You made bourbon!"
"Boar Bon is its name in Prance," Zecora replied slowly, watching the human with wary eyes as he snuffled at the bottle's neck again. "Is this another freakish happenstance?"
"Everything about his world is a freakish happenstance or a horrendous coincidence, or a bad pun. If I hadn't already met him I would swear somepony was making the whole thing up." The human rolled his eyes at Star and shook his head. All the while his hands rolled the bottle back and forth, fingers curling and uncurling around the age-pitted glass. "Is this like that 'scosh' you were talking about last time I was here?"
"Scotch." Lero placed the Aquavite back before Zecora and returned to his seat. "It's kinda similar, comes from a different country though. Bourbon is originally from Kentucky. It was never my favourite, to be honest I didn't even drink that much, but dad always liked when I bought him a bottle for his birthday. Always Elijah Craig, never anything else or he'd sulk for weeks afterwards. We always drank the first glass together."
The human covered his mouth with one of his hands, the other rattling gently on the table as he stared at Zecora's bottle. His fingers slowed their steady tattoo and then stopped altogether. He reached out to twine them in Twilight's mane, teasing just shy of her ear. The unicorn edged closer to her mate and leaned into his embrace, the movement drawing his hand around the side of her neck and shoulder.
"You know how you can end up missing something that didn't seem that important before you lost it?"
The door to the lounge loomed in Star's mind, almost physically dragging her gaze toward itself as her thoughts roved toward the ponies beyond it. Abruptly her attention was drawn to her daughter's face. With her eyes closed and her head leaning against Lero's side, Twilight was the very image of contentment and peace. Star nodded slowly as she considered the sight.
"I think I know what you mean."
The four fell silent as a contemplative mood settled over the room. With nothing better to do Star tossed back the drink in a single swallow. It burned into her throat rather more fiercely than she'd expected, leaving her wheezing as she tried not to choke. By the time Star had recovered Zecora was chuckling behind her hoof and even Twilight had cracked a bit of a smile.
"Lightweight," Lero muttered. He put his other hand across Twilight's chest and shuffled a little closer to her. The younger unicorn bit her lip as she looked at Star.
"Mom, what are you doing here?"
"Why, am I not allowed to vis–"
"Don't you dare start that again mother, you know exactly what I'm talking about." Twilight pulled away from Lero's side and placed both her hooves on the table. "You turn up unannounced on our doorstep in the middle of the day with half the family hanging on your tail and act like I should be just fine. I'm not fine mom. What are you doing."
Another silence fell as Twilight glared at Star, her right eye twitching just a little. Beside her Lero shifted in his seat, his discomfort plain to see and unlike Lucent, who was prone to kicking things when Star started annoying other ponies, it was clear he wasn't going to intervene.
"Well?"
"If I'd known you would feel so strongly–"
"You would have come sooner!" Twilight's hooves pressed against the table hard enough to make it creak. "You know, I've never once had a straight answer out of you. Why can't you just tell me what you're doing for once?"
"Fine. If you want the truth I thought it would be beneficial for the others to meet your new family. And with all this talk of weddings flying around, well, it's only fair that we have some say in the arrangements isn't it?"
"Absolutely not!" Twilight twitched again as Lero's hand came to rest on the back of her neck. The action drew her head around to her mate, her cheek falling against his shoulder and her nose coming to rest just short of his chin. Twilight stared up at Lero with a pleading expression. The human leaned back and gently kissed Twilight on the snout.
"Twilight, I would like to see the rest of your family," he said quietly as he brushed a lock of her mane back from her face. Twilight's gaze faltered.
"If I'd had some warning–"
"Well let's just pretend you did, okay? I kinda want to meet your dad."
"Wait, really? But– no it doesn't work like that if you're thinking about what I think you're thinking. Traditional courting usually requires some formal arrangement between your mother and mine." She glanced at Star, who returned the gesture with a snort. "I don't see that working out."
Lero chuckled and shook his head. "Twilight, I only want to meet the guy. If he's anything like you he could be fun to know."
"I-I suppose..."
"If it makes you feel better, Star can stay in here, I'll get Rainbow to come and–"
"No," Twilight cut in before Star could say anything. The younger unicorn glared at her mother again.
"Are you implying I wouldn't be able to handle Rainbow Dash?"
"The implications of you being in the same room with her are what I'm worried about," Twilight shot back. Star's eyebrows rose quite dramatically.
"A compromise I might suggest." Zecora poured another measure of the aquavite into Star's glass and then her own. She raised one toward Lero and bowed her head. "That I should cater to your guest."
"I– huh. Are you sure? I mean that'd be great but I wouldn't want to impose."
"It is no imposition, my friends. We have much to discuss, to many ends and secret tales of far off lands." Zecora lowered the glass and pushed it over to Star, though her steady gaze remained on Lero. "So let me take her from your hands."
"Well. If you're sure," the human replied. He waited for Twilight to hop from her chair before slowly standing until he towered over everything around him. Star found herself craning her neck a little to keep his face in view. She'd forgotten how tall he was.
Her gaze slipped back to Twilight as Lero opened the door. She wasn't looking at Star, or at anything in particular for that matter. Instead her eyes were dancing rapidly back and forth as if reading some invisible book. Only when Lero's hand brushed against her ear did she snap out of it, finally looking up at her mate with a weak smile.
"That girl is pretty angry," Zecora said as the door closed behind the pair. "Your daughter is sitting right on the edge of madness." (literally "sitting with the family of madness")
"She gets it from her father."
"Kafillinu kickit so sah," Zecora said as the door closed behind the pair. "Yula fily sittin kin to ubuhlanya."
"Her inhlizi moy tailin afta ubabakhe."
"I think not, Star Sparkle of Canterlot."
Zecora's steady gaze rested on Star for quite some time, breaking only for a moment as the zebra took another sip of her drink. She placed her glass on the table and took a deep breath in through her nose.
"You think what you want," Star grunted. The only reply was a gentle nod from Zecora, which was more frustrating than she thought possible. "I never pretended to be a good mother. I don't see why I should bear responsibility for the way she was raised when I didn't have anything to do with it."
"I do not claim knowledge of such as that, but your relationship appears to need work from where I'm sat. To blame her and her father for such things would be to blame the pegasus for your joy of her wings," Zecora concluded. She took another sip of her drink and smacked her lips.
The drink before Star remained untouched. She had admitted at least temporary defeat to the potent beverage and it seemed this human was made of sterner stuff than she had thought if he could drink that without being knocked on his side, though perhaps he merely had the advantage of previous exposure.
Quiet laughter echoed through the door, dominated by the sound of Lucent's throaty rumble. Star found herself leaning toward the door, toward the family beyond it. She quickly righted herself and snatched up her drink once again, downing half of it without even waiting for the taste. It seemed to be the best way to drink it. She barely even wheezed this time.
"I would like to know what troubles you so," Zecora said. Her voice was quiet but comforting. Star waved her glass in the general direction of the bottle.
"Refill me and I might tell you." She waited as the glass refilled and then sat back in her seat with a contented sigh. "This boar bon of yours is starting to grow on me. Where did you say it was from?"
Zecora seemed about to protest the change of subject, but then she pursed her lips and shook her head. "It is from the land of Bokswana, wet and marshy, near the great forest of the Iqwaharshe."
"Oh, those wonderful stick-in-the-muds. My third expedition was supposed to trail them until they told me where to find the Kuur city of Great Tswana." Star shook her head and took another swallow of her drink. It was easier each time. How peculiar. "Rather naive when you think about it. I never did find the place, but then neither did that idiot from Cavelbridge so it wasn't the complete career ending farce I'd worried about at the time. Thank Celestia for small mercies."
As she contemplated her drink again another round of laughter echoed through the room, louder this time. Evidently the rest of her herd were enjoying their time together, despite Twilight's earlier reaction. Perhaps there was something to think about in that.
Perhaps.
"I know it's a long shot, but I don't suppose you know anything about Great Tswana?"
"I have once been there," Zecora replied. "But such a journey was rare."
"Well it was worth a try I supp–" Star frowned. She let her mind bounce back over the last few moments and found her frown growing deeper. "Did you say you've been there? As in actually been to the city? It was meant to be lost!"
"My visit was many years ago, but if you wish I can tell you all I know."
"Oh I wish, I wish!" Star downed the rest of her drink and quickly hopped around the table. "Everything. The history especially, I've gathered snippets but there are huge holes in our knowledge of the Kuur that nopony has ever been able to fill."
"I have much of the place at my homely tree. I could show you if you came with me." Zecora gathered up her bag and flopped it over her back with little ceremony before tugging on a cloak. "Be warned though, the Everfree Forest is cruel. It does not suffer lightly a fool."
"I've been in worse places," Star muttered. She turned to the door, then paused. For some reason she couldn't quite face the prospect of walking out that way. There was no other door except to the kitchen, and that had no way out apart from a window that was far too small for someone of her age to be crawling out of.
"We could wait–"
"No. Not going to wait. I wish to see immediately!"
The rhyming, it was contagious. Star closed her eyes, pushed the thought aside and let her magic flow to her horn. Despite the amount of alcohol she had consumed she still had a fair reserve; it was probably doable if she was careful. She pulled Zecora over to the window and stared at the road for a moment to get her bearings.
"This might get a little bumpy."
Before the zebra could speak Star let her magic flare through her horn. Despite the alcohol the spell mostly ran true, teleporting both of them out into the street in a flash of light, though a few inches higher than she'd intended. Zecora gasped and staggered as they fell to the ground. Once she had steadied herself she raised an eyebrow at Star.
"I can do shields as well," Star said with a cheery grin. "Something of a family speciality, you might say. Now let's go see what you've got shall we? I've waited a long, long time for an opportunity like this and I don't want to waste a moment."
Zecora nodded slightly and set off toward the distant Everfree Forest at a slow trot with Star following along behind.
"I suppose you'll want some payment for this," Star said after a short silence. Zecora only smiled.
"No bits shall match my price," the Zebra sang quietly. Her ears flicked and turned toward Star for a moment. When she spoke again her voice sounded hoarse. "Of Twilight I am fond as friends must be, Star Sparkle. To see her hurt by her mother so, to see her taunted by love she can never experience, that causes me great pain."
"No rhyme to make the point hit home?"
"No rhyme, Star Sparkle. My mother was lost to me and did not return to haunt my waking hours. You still haunt your filly; I see it in her eyes, in her face. My price for my hospitality and my knowledge is that the torment might end in this place."
"Maybe when I get back..." The unicorn glanced at Zecora's saddlebags and noted the bottle still rattling around inside them. "Would you happen to have more of that boarbon lying around?"
"I have a small amount imported at great expense. It could be yours." Zecora smiled slightly. "For suitable recompense."
Star took a breath and looked over her shoulder. The house where her daughter lived was lost behind its neighbours already, just one more thatched pink palace amongst the crowd. She turned away from the sight and set her face toward the path.
"I think we can come to some sort of arrangement."
Ice hung in the air. Well perhaps that wasn't entirely accurate; mostly it seemed to be clinging to the walls and crawling along the floor, but the prickle on Star's skin and the needles in her lungs when she breathed certainly made it feel as if it were so.
The walls glittered with delicately patterned ferns crawling one over the other across ancient enameled brickwork; her hot breath froze to a shower of crystals that fell to the floor in a miniature snowstorm or drifted in the slight breeze her body heat created in the chilly atmosphere. Blocks of ice were piled high in the centre of the icehouse that Star had made her temporary abode, a narrow shaft of light that shone from a port in the distant domed ceiling filling them with an ethereal blue-green glow.
It was an ancient design, one not entirely necessary in a modern world of efficient ice charms and stasis fields, but this family of Lucent's that Star had wormed her way into was notorious for doing things the old-fashioned way. It had taken her months to convince Lucent to install a decent set of frost wards on the place, but worth the effort if only so she didn't keep running out of ice for her drinks.
With that thought in mind Star raised an ice-chilled crystal tumbler to her lips, pausing a moment to admire the delicate rime forming around the sides where her magic gripped it, before she tipped it back. The tinkle of ice against crystal seemed oddly reassuring; the chill of her gin, cooled by its long stay on the block of ice by her side, was more refreshing than anything so alcoholic had any right to be. The combination was almost enough to take her mind off the rather urgent and pressing matter that had driven her to the icehouse in the first place. Sadly that particular thought brought her attention back to the present and the unwanted burning in her loins.
She was just refilling her glass when a hoof pounded at the door and a voice called out her name. Star rolled her eyes to the ceiling and shook her head. Of course it would be Twilight Velvet that found her, all the rest of the herd were probably off enjoying a heat-free day and not thinking about sex even slightly.
A wash of warmth and an achingly familiar tingle washed over Star's body, making her shiver so much that she almost dropped her drink, which would have been a terrible shame. She settled further onto the ice and set about chipping a little more of it into her glass.
"Star? Are you in there?"
"Would you be asking if you thought otherwise, dear?"
The door rattled again as a pony leaned against it. Star could almost picture Twilight shaking her head and sighing. "Is this what I think it is?"
"Well, I could lie about it and claim that I rather enjoy freezing my behind off in the middle of the day, but yes. Yes it is."
"I don't see the hosepipe out here," Twilight said after a moment's silence. Star could almost hear the silly little grin her herdmate put on when she was making a bad joke.
"I'm surprised you remembered."
Star took a sip of her drink, smacking her lips as the alcohol burned into them. Without looking she reached out with her magic and pulled the door open, granting Twilight Velvet entry to her miniature fortress of solitude.
A box followed the mare, floating in the pale glow of Twilight's aura as it settled on the floor between them.Twilight trotted over to the box and seated herself on it with a prim shuffle, before motioning to the drink at Star's side. "I see you kept up most of the promise, Star, but I really don't understand how this could happen now. We're not due for at least a month."
"The rest of you haven't spent the last half year trekking around the ass-end of the planet," Star grumbled. She lifted her glass for another drink, then thought better of it, placing the tumbler up and out of the way. "I think I'm still synchronised with that Zebra tribe I was following. I wasn't expecting this."
"Neither was Lucent."
At the sound of their stallion's name Star bit her lip, unable to hide the flush across her cheeks and neck. She turned back to her gin and chipped a few more pieces of ice into the glass, lest her hooves took it upon themselves to drag her back to Lucent's bed.
"Or Glint," Twilight continued, her expression torn between amusement and pity as she eyed Star's twitching limbs. "He said Lucent was completely exhausted and taking a late morning when I saw him at breakfast. Apparently you turned into a ravening monster from the deepest pit last night."
"I suppose I was a little more forthright than usual..." After a moment's thought Star downed her entire drink. Another wave of something almost pleasurable washed across her body; she groaned and refilled the glass. "You know how I get after a long time away."
Snorting, Twilight stood up. The box she had sat on opened with a quiet creak and she began to rummage around inside, her magic pulling and tugging at its contents around with a series of disturbingly sharp squeaks and rustles. Star could hear the velvety sound of straps tightening as Twilight spoke again.
"Crincile seems to think you were trying to make some sort of point," she said. "It took me hours to convince her that you were just being you."
"Oh. I'd forgotten about that as well."
Star put down her drink again, making sure it was settled properly on its icy shelf before she let it go. She'd been away when the young mare had learned she was infertile. By all accounts Crincile had been devastated, yet she'd seemed fine when Star had seen her the previous night. Not that Star had really paid all that much attention, having been first too preoccupied with finding somewhere to sleep and then finding somewhere to–
"Oh sweet Celestia's shiny plump buttocks," she groaned as another wave of horrendous lust washed over her. "I thought the gin would at least make it tolerable!"
"Now why would you think that given it has the opposite effect on you?"
Chuckling quietly at her own humour, Twilight returned to her task. Star heard the sound of one more strap being tightened and then the quiet clop of hooves as Her herdmate walked toward her, hips swaying awkwardly around a new addition hanging between her legs, slender and black and disturbingly shiny.
"How considerate of you," Star muttered as she eyed the cooler. She took another swallow of her drink and stood up, no longer bothering to hide her arousal. "It's probably too late for all this. I might as well just go back to Lucent's bed."
"Oh you can't be so sure. Besides, Lucent can't spend the whole week just taking care of you, it wouldn't be fair to the rest of the girls," Twilight replied. She nuzzled at Star's thighs before giving her a playful bite on the rump.
"Just get on with it," Star grunted, but Twilight just nickered and continued to tease at her hips.
Acting by itself Star's body pressed backwards against Twilight, almost forcing itself under her barrel. Star grit her teeth and tried to fight it for a moment before giving in with a pained grunt. She hated how little control she had over herself at times like this. It was embarrassing. And still Twilight seemed determined to tease her, lifting herself above Star with frustrating slowness. She walked her forehooves along Star's spine and then gently lowered herself against Star's back with a lingering sigh.
"Twilight, if you don't hurry up and fuck me–"
"Oh you enjoy it really you sourpuss," Twilight murmured, refusing to be discouraged. Star set her jaw and waited, refusing to respond until Twilight let out another, more plaintive sigh. "Fine. Be that way."
"I just want to get this over with as quickly as possible," Star grumbled as her herdmate shifted bodily atop her.
"Do a girl a favour and see how she repays you." Twilight thrust the cooler forward. Star grunted as it entered her with all the grace and delicacy of a falling tree. "You really should remember how to enjoy this, Star."
"You mean like Crystal and Scintilla enjoy it? They spend most of their heats locked in Crystal's apartment screaming obscenities at one another. It isn't natural," she said as she adjusted herself against the cooler. Twilight huffed and shook her head.
"This isn't natural."
"I'll s-say," Star muttered. She waited, but Twilight didn't move. "Well?"
"I just can't help remembering that you used to like this. Back when it was just the two of us you always seemed so eager. It's like all the joy has gone out of it." She shifted once again atop Star as she stretched out for the pump. Hesitating for a final moment, Twilight took the it in her mouth and squeezed.
To claim that Star's orgasm was intense would have been, at the very least, inaccurate. In fact it would have required an emergency symposium to offset the world-spanning linguistic crisis that would inevitably precipitate from the etymological ramifications involved in so thoroughly redefining the word. Yet she didn't pass out as so many of Twilight Velvet's trashy novels would have had a pony believe, nor at first did she yell, or shriek, or cry out Celestia's name despite a particularly entertaining image of the reigning monarch that forced its way into Star's mind and began dancing on the metaphorical tables.
Not to say that she was particularly lucid by that point. For Star the experience was somewhat akin to having her brain plucked out, dipped in a pot of Iboga extract and carefully re-inserted into her skull upside down. Colours were the thing she usually remembered most. Strange swirling lights and rainbows flying around against an indescribable scintillating background that always reminded her of Manehattan at night, if the entire city were only made of rock candy. And on fire.
The truth was she hated sex in heat. She hated the loss of control, the way it left her incapable of thought, the complete inability to quench her craving for more than a few hours. Every blindingly chromatic, mind-destroying moment of it. She hated it and she couldn't get enough of it and as she regained some sense of her relative location in time and space, Star found herself pressing herself hard back against Twilight's all-too-willing body, the tail end of a panting moan trailing from her hoarse throat and moist lips and an annoyingly satisfied glow spreading out and away from her nethers.
"Well."
Twilight Velvet's otherwise mellifluous voice seeming overly loud in the silence that followed. Star tried to swallow a mouthful of drool, but all she could do was swill it around for a while before eventually spitting it on the floor. She pawed at the frozen tiles, snorting and huffing as she tried to catch her breath.
"Better?"
"Marginally," Star growled, swallowing against nothing and finding her mouth parched where a moment earlier it had been flooded. She tugged a lump of ice free with her teeth and crushed it, sucking greedily at the chill water that melted from it. Ice cracked and shattered between her clenched jaws as Twilight's cooler slid out of her.
Twilight Velvet shrugged as she began the careful process of extracting herself from the cooler's harness. Star crawled over to her previous seat and poured herself a fresh drink, momentarily grateful for the fact that she didn't have to use her mouth and hooves for something so simple. If her magic could have shook the way her forelegs wanted to right now the glass would have been shivering like a hairless zebra in the arctic.
"It takes all sorts. Still, I can tell you one thing for certain, we are never, ever doing anything like that in here again. The acoustics are terrible!"
"Acoustics?"
"Certainly. These walls seem to reflect sound back to a single spot in the middle, roughly where my head was in fact. And considering how loud you can be..." The cooler was dropped back into its box with an unpalatable flapping of rubber and webbing. "You see what I'm getting at?"
"Oh." Star had somehow finished her drink without noticing that she'd even started. She poured another. "Well."
"I swear if anypony was outside they probably thought I was trying to murder you."
"I almost wish you were," Star mumbled, raising the glass to her lips again. She fell silent, willing her body to relax and wondering how long it would be before she had to go through it all again.
As the silence lengthened, Twilight slowed her packing before finally abandoning it entirely. She pressed her shoulder against Star's and nuzzled at her cheek. "It'll be all right, Star. It was only the once. Remember how Scintilla had to spend the whole week with the both of them just to land little Malachite? You'll be fine."
"The fates would not be so kind," Star replied, staring into her glass. "Besides it was at least six last night and two more this morning. And... I can feel it. It's like some tiny little magical hole inside me, same as when I ended up with Shining." She raised her glass in a mocking toast to the wall. "Bang goes my career. Again."
Star knocked back the rest of her drink and tugged the bottle away from its spot to hover close to her head, then turned and walked slowly toward the icehouse door. On the threshold she paused and looked back at her herdmate.
"Promise me something, Twilight."
Twilight Velvet closed her box and lifted it into the air, sounding distracted and distance when she spoke. "Yes?"
"If I'm anywhere near Lucent next time I go into heat, just save the heartache and kill me."
"Whatever you say, Twinkling Star," Twilight replied, much to Star's chagrin as she joined her herdmate by the door.
"Twilight you know I hate that name."
"Mmhmm." Twilight plucked Star's glass from her magic and took a tiny sip before passing it back again. She smiled at Star and kicked the door open. "Get some sleep. If you're lucky you'll be over the worst of it."
"And if I'm not?"
"Well. You'll just have to learn to live with it like the rest of us mortal ponies," Twilight replied as she trotted out into the warm summer air. Star grunted and briefly considered a retort of her own, but it would only encourage her in the end. She refilled her glass and stepped out into the light.
* * *
The reception of the office of the Chair of the Department of Ancient History and Archaeology bore all the signs of a room well-used by its occupant. Most of the offices of the senior faculty had large and ostentatious receptions befitting the perceived status of their occupants - except for the Archchancellor in the old Puddinghead building, whose office was more of a games room than anything else - whereas this was small and functional. A few comfortable couches lined walls that were almost entirely hidden behind posters, framed prints and various hanging nick-nacks. One entire wall was take up with a notice board that was stuffed to the edges with memos, reminders, lesson details and the jocular witterings of the more adventurous students.
There was also a pair of low tables covered in periodicals and books related to the school, and a desk, currently empty but usually the haunt of a secretary by the name of Sugar Shanks, a particularly attractive example of the male of the species, Star had always thought, though when she remarked as much to Crincile the younger mare just shrugged.
"I've never met him before," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She had been nearly silent for the entirety of their walk through the university, shying away from the gaze of the other students and pulling self-consciously at the fine blouse and coat Lucent had insisted she wear for the visit.
In contrast, Star had gone nude at least partly by choice, though there was the small fact that nothing in her wardrobe would fit around her swelling belly anyway. They'd made a very odd couple as the traversed the halls and she had no doubt that her students would quickly latch onto any rumour they could conjure about them. It didn't help that Crincile was attending her classes again.
"Why am I even here? I have an assignment to complete."
"I'm sure it's not important."
"You're the one who set it."
"Then I know it's not important," replied Star, grinning lazily and leaning back in her chair. Her magic reached out to a pitcher of water and two glasses on the far side of the room, the pitcher pouring its contents before it had even reached them. She set it down, wondering yet again why she had such a craving for water when it felt as if her bladder had decided to shrink to the size of a peanut.
"Of course not. It's only a full quarter of my Masters thesis."
Star finished her glass, her mind declaring to itself yet again that clean, cold water was probably the single most important invention of the pony civilisation. Yet as she went to pour another she saw Crincile carefully toying with her drink, twisting it back and forth between her forehooves as it floated in her magic. "What's the matter with you now?"
"You didn't answer the question." Crincile placed her glass carefully on the seat to her left and carefully placed her hooves between her legs.
"And what question would that be, dear?"
Crincile closed her eyes and sighed. "Why am I here?"
"Ah now that's one for the ages, isn't it? Perhaps you should have read philosophy instead of Ancient Equestrian Languages."
"Star. You know full well what I mean."
Rolling her eyes toward the ceiling and its vast mural, Star cleared her throat and set the pitcher and glass aside. She let her ears fold back for a moment before forcing them forward again. "Moral support."
"I'd believe that if you had any morals left to support." Crincile narrowed her eyes. "You're planning something aren't you. Perhaps related to that expedition you were discussing with Doctor Roola a few days ago?"
"Oh, you heard that?"
"I was in your office for what was was supposed to be a progress meeting regarding the project I'm supposed to be working on right now."
"Don't you worry about that," Star replied, now toying with her own drink. She rolled the glass between her hooves and then let it float away somewhere safe. "There is an opportunity that I'd like to pursue, but I may not be in the best of conditions to do so, which means I'll need some help. Both here, today, and later on in the field. It could present an opportunity for you as well."
"What kind of opportunity?"
"I've noticed that you have a gift for language. You speak Adlertsch like a native which is quite impressive given you don't have a beak. You seem capable of picking up a new one in relatively little time too if I'm any judge. I've managed to get the gist of the grasslands patois but it always helps to have a second speaker along."
"Twilight already speaks it. Why not take her?"
"She hasn't been on an expedition in years. Too busy." Water splashed as Star tugged her glass back from its hiding spot in the air. She took a sip. "Besides, I'm not sure she'd be all that amenable to going this time."
A door opened on the far side of the reception before Crincile could answer, admitting a secretary, who gazed at the pair before consulting a diary floating by his head.
"The Professor will see you now, Doctor Sparkle."
"Thank you, Sugar," said Star as she leaped from her seat and set off at a brisk if somewhat wobbly trot across the reception. She saved the barest of glances for Crincile as the younger unicorn struggled to keep up. "Come along dear, don't want to keep Professor Path waiting."
As she passed by she winked at the secretary, but he didn't pay attention, being too busy with his diary to look at her. Given her current state that suited Star just fine. She wobbled on toward the door and nudged it open.
Past the double-fronted glass doors was office illuminated by the early autumn sun that streamed through four large windows on the far wall. The heads of a pair of cherry trees danced in the quad beyond, still bearing the remnants of the year's fruit, a few leaves showing just the first blush of fall.
The room itself interested Star more, resembling less an office than a small apartment. A kitchenette lurked behind a partition at one end of the room, separated further from the rest of the space by a small table and a few mismatched chairs. Shelves lined two of the the walls, stuffed with books, many of which Star had idled her way through as a student. The free space on the other walls was taken up with artefacts and trinkets, interspersed with dozens of aged photographs and a smattering of framed newspaper clippings, all bearing the image of the same stocky brown pegasus in a grimy shirt and pith helmet. She grinned fit to burst in every single one.
The same pegasus looked up from a haphazard pile of papers on the enormous oaken desk that completed the room. Her face was careworn and a little more jowly than the photographs, her muzzle was grizzled salt and pepper and her dark grey mane was streaked with white, but her grin was unmistakable. She shared it now with the pair as she shoved her papers to one side and stood up.
"Star!" Professor Path flared her left wing in greeting as she stumped around the desk to meet the two of them. The right stayed firmly pressed to her side. "Look at you! Plump as Celestia's sunny backside–"
"And twice as pretty, yes," Star cut in, rolling her eyes. "It was old the first time you said it."
The old mare shook her head, still grinning as she wrapped Star in a broad hug. "It's been too long." She backed away again, staring at Star and for a moment her smile took on a slight melancholy cast. Abruptly Professor Path turned her attention to Crincile and held out a hoof. "Ah, where are my manners? Professor Independent Path. I'm the one who spent the better part of a decade trying to educate this recalcitrant horndog. Sometimes I'm almost convinced I succeeded."
"Crincile," the younger mare replied, reaching out to briefly touch the hoof with her own. Professor Path's grin broadened.
"I've heard a lot about you, Crincile. Oh not from Star, don't worry," she added quickly as Crincile's eyes grew wide. She shot Star a sly wink. "I wouldn't trust anything she says anyway. Doctor Deep over in Classics seems to think you're quite the rising star."
"Ah, well, thank you Professor Path."
"Please, call me Indy. Everypony always does..." Her smile wavered for a moment before reasserting itself. Indy ushered the pair toward a couch and chairs near the windows, again using only her left wing while her right remained stock-still at her side. "So! How's the family? Little Shining still a biter is he?"
"I'm not here for small-talk, Path."
"Oh I know why you're here, Star." Indy hauled herself onto a chair and let her wing fall limp across the arm. She sighed. "But for Celestia's sake, we work in the same department and I haven't had a chance to talk to you for nearly two years! I'm sure you could give an old mare a few minutes?"
With a loud harumph Star flopped on the couch opposite Indy and let her head flop backwards against the overstuffed cushions. "Shining's graduated from biting to zapping, Scintilla managed to drop a foal of her own, Lucent is lunatic as ever. Happy?"
"No, but I suppose that's all I'll get out of you," Path sighed. She pulled a pair of spectacles from her shirt pocket and balanced them on her snout, then from a second pocket tugged a crumpled roll of parchment that she spread out on the table between them. "Doctor Roola seems to think you're gunning for a spot on the Boarundi venture."
"Of course I am."
Star leaned forward for a better view as the professor finished smoothing out her parchment. It was a map, a copy of one she had made on her last trip to the area, though missing her notes on potential dig sites. She'd been sure to keep those separate, just in case.
"If I were your age I'd probably do the same," Indy murmured, laying a hoof on the map. Her smile twisted to one side a little and her eyes drifted to the walls and their burden of clippings and photographs until they came to rest on one in particular. For a moment Indy's eyes wrinkled and a very different smile played across her lips, but then the expression disappeared as she turned her attention back to the map.
Star and Crincile both turned to look at the picture. A moment later the younger unicorn slipped from her spot on the couch and walked over to it with wide-eyed curiosity. "Star, that's you!"
"And me in better days," Indy added with a glance at Star and another broad grin. "That was my last field trip. For some reason I took Star along with me. Probably one of the more entertaining expeditions I've been on."
Crincile touched the photograph with her hoof before returning to her seat with a curious frown. "Your last?"
"That's right. I thought I'd have one last hurrah before I retired to a permanent life in academia. Wasn't really the same as the old days though, what with one thing or another. Especially after that little accident in Marelasia..." For the first time since they'd arrived Indy lifted her right wing, revealing a tattered stump beneath a cover of a few living primaries. "Left me rather short of the qualifications needed as an aerial specialist wouldn't you say? Might as well be blind."
With a sympathetic glance toward Crincile, who had averted her gaze the moment she saw the ruined wing, Indy folded her limb away and pulled her glasses from her snout, tossing them on the table by the map. She rubbed her grey-maned temple and shook her head.
"I'm sorry Star, but I can't let you go."
"What? Indy–"
"No arguments," Indy growled. She pulled her other wing tight and sat up. The smile was gone now. "I have given you an incredible amount of leeway in this department, Star. Your methods are unorthodox, but you've been a valuable asset to this university from the moment you submitted your first postdoc. Your work with the Zebra tribes has been remarkable."
"These don't sound like reasons for me to stay," Star shot back. She shuffled forward on her seat and laid both forehooves on the table. "I have to be on that trip."
"And under other circumstances, I would already be recommending you for the spot," Indy replied. She smoothed the map out again, staring at it without seeing. "When does the expedition leave?"
"In about six months, what does that have to do with it?"
Silently, Independent Path turned her gaze on Star and tilted her head before pointedly lowering her eyes to Star's belly. "I think you know."
"You can't be serious." Star looked down and found she'd been rubbing a hoof across her belly. She forced it away and glared at the professor. "You're going to hold a little thing like this against me? Okay fine, I'm pregnant, all I need to do is drop the foal before I leave."
"Ignoring the problems in that plan for a moment, what if you're late?" Indy's wing flexed briefly. "You can't expect to take care of a newborn foal in the middle of, as I think you described it, a country-wide midden populated by more blood-sucking disease-carriers than parliament."
"What is it with ponies always using my words against me," Star growled. She folded her forelegs and looked away. "I'm going."
"And I say you're staying. And before you argue," Indy continued, holding up a hoof. "Let me explain a few things to you."
The professor leaned back in her seat, arching her hooves in front of her face as she watched Star for a moment. Satisfied that she wouldn't face any bitter complaint, she lowered her eyelids a little and let out a quiet breath.
"You've always been impetuous. Most of the faculty consider that a fault, but those old stick-in-the-muds would see it that way. Too busy filling in their expenses claims to get a good look at the world." The grin was back again as Indy lowered her hooves, but her voice betrayed little humour. "I've petitioned the Dean of Colleges to grant you an assistant professorship. After two years your tenure will be all but guaranteed and you'll be able to do almost anything you want, provided you don't do something stupid in the meantime."
"Like what?"
Again Indy's eyes strayed to Star's belly. She didn't even have to voice it, Star could almost read her mind. "All I'm asking from you is a little patience."
"I have to be on that trip, Indy."
"You're potentially throwing away your career and endangering your foal's well being for a half-baked theory about a lost city?"
"It's not half-baked! It–" Star closed her eyes. Again she was rhythmically stroking her belly but she didn't try to stop herself this time. It felt oddly comforting. "I have a solution to that anyway. Crinkle here can help me."
The younger unicorn's head jerked back as if she'd been struck. "What?"
"It's not complicated. You can help me with language." Star poked her belly. "And you can help me with this little bundle of joy when the time comes as well."
"You want me to travel half way around the world with you to be some sort of glorified foal sitter? Star! How–" Crincile closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I can't just abandon my studies at your whims, Star. I'm sorry, but I have to decline."
"Oh now you choose to grow a backbone," Star groused. Crincile refused to look at her and instead tilted from her seat and stumped away to the door. "Where are you going?"
"Home. I need to study." Crincile paused with her hoof on the door and looked over her shoulder at Star. "I'm sorry. It was nice to meet you, professor."
"Any time," Indy replied with a cheery wave. She waited for the door to close and then turned back to face Star. "So."
A simple statement, but it demanded an answer. One that Star knew she couldn't give. She took a deep breath and pursed her lips, not daring to look at her old mentor lest she say something she'd regret to one of the few ponies still capable of making her life hell.
"I'm not willing to see this taken from me, Indy. Not again."
"It's the nature of life that sometimes our dreams are taken away from us, Star," Indy said, her voice low and quiet. She took a deep breath through her nose and slid from her seat to circle the table and rest a hoof on Star's shoulder. Briefly her ruined wing flexed against her side before settling back down. "Your setback is only temporary and you get something good out of it as well. See it as a blessing. Spend a little time at pasture."
"Easy for you to say, you've got everything you always wanted."
Indy's wing flexed again. She patted Star on the shoulder and retreated to the windows with her eyes fixed on the clouds. "You're wrong, Star. I mean, look at me. An old buzzard with a broken wing stuck in a gilded cage. This is where my career ends."
"From the sound of things you're trying to put me in that same cage with you."
"Hardly," Indy snorted. She flapped her wing and leaned her head on the high window sill. "I know you. With your contacts at the Foreign Office and and that attitude of yours, you could use this place to launch yourself across the world. For you this would be the beginning."
Sniffling quietly, Indy turned from the window, briefly touching at her eye with the back of her wrist as she stumped across the room to her desk. "I'm stepping down in a few years. I'd like to think I can leave this place on a firm back."
"Well it sounds like you've got my life planned out quite nicely there, professor." Star stood up, wishing she could still pull of the dramatic leap from her chair instead of the awkward wobbling roll to which she had to resort. Letting her tail sweep from side to side probably saved the effort somewhat.
Strangely, Indy's smile only grew wider at the sight. She nodded her head and lifted her wing again. "I'll see you around, Star."
And then she turned away to stare at the clouds again, leaving Star unable to think up a suitable retort. She did the next best thing and stomped out of the office, making sure to slam the door extra hard before kicking Sugar Shanks' chair for good measure. The secretary just rolled his eyes.
* * *
By a combination of her demands and the doctor's orders the room was almost entirely dark, save for the light of a single glowing crystal on the bedside cabinet, though Star still saw her namesakes twinkling across her vision whenever she tried to move. It was like a hangover with the pain, for which she was deliriously thankful as pain wasn't something she had ever particularly enjoyed.
Right now she lay in her side, facing away from the light, her eyes fixed on the darkest part of the wall as she watched the latest batch of bright sparks dance and fade. At the pit of her stomach a bundle of heat and magic was huddled, a tiny snout pressed against her coat. She could feel a little cloud of hot breath on her skin with each of its exhausted sighs.
With a sigh of her own, Star rolled her eyes toward the filly nestled by her teat and stared, unable to summon even a momentary reaction to the sight. She lay on her side too, tucked up close to Star's belly with her legs curled up in what Velvet would probably describe as an adorable little ball of cuteness or some such rot. Her nose was pointed toward Star's teats, still glistening wet with milk and saliva, and her little round stomach bulged with her first greedy meal. And to top it off she'd already crapped the bed.
The twinkling morass was coming back. Star let out a breath and closed her eyes as she tried to find a position that would send them away again without also forcing her to roll in her foal's muck. Just as she was getting comfortable again the room brightened with an opening door that let a flood of noise wash over the room. The silence returned a moment later and two distinct sets of hooves shuffled quietly around the bed. As soon as they stopped moving, Star opened her eyes wide to glare at the newcomers.
"Well now isn't that just the most adorable thing you've ever seen," Twilight Velvet cooed to Crincile at her side. She leaned in close to lay a gentle kiss on Star's forehead and for just a brief moment Star was able let herself forget where she was, or what she'd just been through.
It took only Crincile's quiet sniffling to bring her crashing back to the present. The younger unicorn was biting her lip, a wrist pressed against her eye to stem the tears. She seemed to be smiling and bawling at the same time.
"What's the matter with you?"
"She's s-so tiny..."
"I would beg to disagree," muttered Star, closing her eyes again. "What are you two doing here anyway?"
"Visiting." Twilight drew back from Star and seated herself on a nearby chair. In the crystal lamplight her pale coat glowed almost white against the dark wall. Her eyes shone beneath a slight frown.
Crincile joined Twilight a moment later, primly seating herself on the edge of a second chair.
"And Crinkle?"
"Star, I do prefer Crincile,"
"I know," Star muttered darkly. Feeling an itch on her side she rolled a little to scratch, dislodging her new foal from its empty dreams. The filly squawled and gasped its resentment at the sudden disturbance but Star ignored it. A moment later the foal had settled back into her sleep.
Having waited a moment to be sure the foal really was asleep, Twilight spoke again. "Scintilla and Crystal have taken a week in Trottingham."
"Figures. She nearly went ballistic when she found out I was having a filly. She's probably gone to hire an assassin."
"I think she'll come around," Twilight replied with a wry smile. "Have you thought of a name yet?"
"No." Star didn't bother looking at either mare, preferring to glare at the same ark patch of wall she'd found earlier. She took a breath. "Nothing came to me."
"Surely you must have felt something–"
"I felt plenty. Kicks in the bladder, a craving for nachos, that delightfully intense aroma of vomit in the toilet and a right now distinct urge to buck every stallion I see in the head. I felt my nethers torn to pieces by a melon with a spike and I felt the indignity of shitting myself the minute she popped out, and right now I can feel all the muscles in my belly turning to soggy elastic." She took a long breath and let it blow out through her nose. "If you mean that mystical magic nonsense I'm supposed to feel when she quickens inside me, no. No I did not feel that. All I felt was a black hole into which I poured my entire life, my career and a goodly portion of everything I ate and in return I get a little parasite who takes all the good I produce and turns it to a stinking mess on the sheets."
A firm kick against the foot of the bed punctuated Star's last word. The sound shook the little foal out of her sleep and she began to gripe, tired little quailings that betrayed just how exhausted she still was.
"Oh you poor little thing." Twilight leaned forward to peer at the foal. "She's not wearing a diaper?"
"I can't use my magic," Star muttered. "Gives me a headache."
"Then you should have asked for help," Twilight replied as she gently lifted the foal from the sheets. Her eyes widened as the filly rose from the shadow of Star's belly and into the light. "Star, she's filthy."
"She made that abundantly clear all over the bed," Star groused. She had her eyes closed again as if that would somehow send the pestering mare away.
"I mean, Star, that it's been hours since she was born. You were supposed to clean her." Twilight Velvet stood up, with her head low and her ears folded back. She thrust herself across the room, pausing only a moment to deposit the filly in Crincile's unresisting forelegs. The little foal fell silent almost straight away, nuzzling curiously at the strange new scent that surrounded her before yawning and falling straight back to sleep.
"You think I'm going to put my mouth anywhere near that?"
"You of all ponies should understand the need for grooming newborns, Star," Twilight grunted. She tugged a cloth from the sideboard and splashed it in a jug of water before returning to the newborn. "If you want to have any sort of bond with your foal–"
"What makes you think I would? Besides, Shining tasted bloody awful. I'm not putting myself through that again."
"She's your child," Crincile whispered. She rocked the foal back and forth for a little while until Twilight brought the cloth down on her coat, gently dabbing back and forth to mimic a tongue.
"Only by bad luck! I never wanted her."
"How could you be so heartless?"
"I'm not heartless, I just..." Star clenched her jaw. She didn't have the energy for this. "I'm so tired."
"It's all right, Star, we understand," Twilight replied. She was smiling again, but there was an undertone to her voice that Star had never noticed before. And her eyes didn't mirror the smile either, but instead were narrowed at her. Guarded.
Star let her head flop against the pillow while the two mares fussed over her newborn. The foal squirmed, signalling her reluctant return to the waking world with a series of little squawks and whinnies. Her eyes opened and fixed on Velvet almost instantly.
"Sounds like she might be hungry," Twilight Velvet said, keeping her voice low. Before Star could disagree the filly was shoved back up against her teats, where it immediately latched on and began eagerly sucking the life from her yet again, accompanied by sharp little gasps and chokes for air. Star glared at the curled up foal, its grey-purple coat now shining bright and clean. What sort of connection was she supposed to feel with a hairy little vampire berry? She looked away again and closed her eyes.
"Now. Is there anything else you need, Star?" Twilight's voice sounded caring but again there was that undercurrent. Star didn't know how to react to it so she did the only thing any sensible pony would: she ignored it completely.
"I just want to go home."
"It'll be a few hours yet before you can," Twilight sighed. She trapped around the room to the door. "I have to go and find Lucent before he does something silly, but Crincile can stay with you if you want."
The door opened, letting in another wash of noise. Star was too weary to protest the imposition. She let her eyes wander back to the darkness and wondered how long it would be until she could be rid of the child.
She heard a sniff. A moment later Crincile's seat scraped as she pulled it closer to the bed.
"I'm sorry, Star, I didn't mean to offend you before."
Inside Star groaned. The last thing she needed was contrition, especially from someone who hadn't done anything wrong. Outwardly she merely flicked her ear and shifted her hips to accommodate the foal a little more comfortably.
"It's just, seeing you with a filly and being so... so ill-disposed toward it, I– I don't really know–""
"I had the same conversation with Twilight when Shining was born, you know," Star cut in. She cleared her throat and snuffled at something blocking her nose. "And I'll say the same to you as I said to her. If I could swap, I would do so in a heartbeat."
"Why?"
I had a career. But there was more than that. "When I look at her, I know I'm supposed to feel something. In my head I know. I just can't seem to muster it. She might as well be a lump of rock for all the attachment I have to her."
"But she's your filly."
"And given time I'm sure I could learn to tolerate her in some fashion, but I don't have the time." Star swallowed again. Her throat felt unusually dry for some reason as she turned to look at Crincile. "If I have to choose between being her mother or my career..."
"There's no need for one to rule out the other," Crincile replied. She reached out to stroke the foal's mane; the filly curled up a little tighter and let out a relaxed sigh.
Star's jaw clenched as her foal tugged at her teat, trying to draw out more milk. "Boarundi was my big chance. The university won't authorise another expedition for years and I can't just arrange one for myself. I'll have work commitments, responsibility to those fools in the Foreign Office–
"A foal to raise."
Again Star's jaw tightened as she bit back on the instinctive response. She closed her eyes and let out an enormous sigh that somehow turned into a yawn half way through.
"Perhaps I should let you sleep," Crincile murmured, sliding from the chair. Star tried to respond but she was already drifting away in a twinkling cloud. It was amazing how quickly sleep would come upon her these days.
She dreamed of alicorns.
* * *
"Star, what are you doing?"
"Packing."
Twilight closed the door behind her as she entered Star's private study. "What for?"
"Changed my mind," Star grunted, nosing along a shelf. She pulled an old and battered tin cup from behind several worn journals and tossed it in her bags. "Going on the Boarundi expedition, told the university. They're fine with it."
"You're still nursing."
"It'll wear off after a few weeks."
"Star, that's not the point! She's too young to be weaned yet, you can't just abandon your foal like this!"
"Heaven and all its powers preserve me, Twilight, we herd for a reason! You're so damnably desperate for a foal of your own, why don't you take the little runt and play house for a few months?"
"But–"
"I don't want to hear it!"Star hefted her overstuffed saddlebags onto her back and marched toward the door until Twilight grabbed her tail. With a surprising strength she tugged Star back into the room.
"None of us has the time, Star. Scintilla's working, Crystal is useless with foals, Crincile is starting her doctorate next year, I have a job too."
"Get a sitter," Star growled.
"You're going to be gone for four years!"
Star yanked her tail from Twilights grasp and returned to the door. "And I have to leave now otherwise I'll miss the damn boat!"
"Star, if you walk out of that door then so help me I will–"
"You'll what, Twilight?" With a sneer Star turned back to look at her heredmate. Twilights face almost glowed red and she was pawing the ground. "What will you do? Kick me out of the herd? I was the one who courted Lucent, do you really think I would let you or any other pony take him away from me?"
"How could you even think that you– you ungrateful, conceited, arrogant–"
"Ungrateful! What am I ungrateful for Twilight? Being forced to give up my career just so you could have a little doll to play with? If there were any justice in the world I would have had your useless womb and you'd be pushing melons out of your cunt till the cows came home!" Ignoring Twilight's choking sob Star kicked the door open and stepped out into the hall. She glanced over her shoulder at her partner. "Unlike some ponies around here I actually have things I want to do with my life."
"Well– well fine, run away again why don't you! It's only what you've been doing ever since we met isn't it?" Twilight stalked around the edge of the room with her eyes fixed on Star. "Oh don't you worry, Star Sparkle, I'm going to keep up my end of this pointless charade of a relationship. I'll raise your foal. Properly."
"And turn her into a nice little mindless princess while you're at it."
"You– you'd probably just end up murdering her anyway!"
"Believe it," Star growled. She slammed the door on Twilight's wordless screech and immediately turned and ran toward the foyer, not even slowing as she shoved one of the maids roughly aside in her haste to leave. The young mare stammered a surprised apology but Star was already well away across the lobby. The doors flew aside under her magic, her hooves crunching gravel as she stormed away across the drive.
She glanced over her shoulder as the doors crashed again. Twilight shot out in pursuit, eyes blazing with righteous indignation. Somewhere along the way she had found Star's foal; the youngster was heft across Twilight's back, squalling and screeching at being so rudely awoken and doing not a damn thing to change Star's mind.
"Dammit Star Sparkle, you get back here right now!"
At the threshold of the gate Star rolled to a halt, one foreleg lifted in the air. Twilight was tramping back and forth near the porch, the filly on her back still warbling and nosing about as she sought the comfort of her mother's scent. Behind Twilight the door stood open and dark. Lucent stared out at Star from the shaded interior, his face empty of any emotion, eyes shaded beneath his brow. He spoke to Twilight; whatever words he used seemed to finally snap her out of her mindless rage and she turned, head hanging low and weary as she broke eye-contact with Star and walked slowly back into the house.
Lucent remained at the door, watching her. Just watching. By now Star would have expected an angry outburst, or at least a petulant stomp, but all she got was an empty, broken stare that refused to turn away. And neither could she turn away from it if she wanted to maintain any sense of dignity. Star willed Lucent to move first, to break their contact and look away, to let her leave without having to have all that shame and guilt inflicted on her. He refused her urgings and simply stared, with his jaw set and his ears pressed forward so that she could be sure she had his full and undivided attention.
Nothing she could do would turn Lucent's gaze from her; he wouldn't grant her the opportunity to escape unseen. Star lowered her hoof and then her gaze as she turned away. She could feel his eyes burning on the back of her head all the way to the first turn in the road, where a row of trees finally took her from his sight.
* * *
A bright summer sun beat down on Star's back and neck as she toiled across the heat-baked, hard-packed earth of a market square, ignoring the bustle as ponies packed their stalls in the draining heat and shuffled away to find shelter. Her destination was ahead, a small café, barely alive at this time of day with just a scant smattering of ponies lurking beneath the shade of a pair of dusty, tattered parasols that gave feeble protection to the café's patio.
The market of Châtaigneroux was hardly the Marengeti, yet to Star it felt more alien than any place in the Zebra homelands she had travelled. The heat was something she should have been used to; so to the bright sun, but the air was too still and the atmosphere cloying and dusty, choking her lungs and leaving her coat several shades darker than usual, not to mention itchy. On the grasslands the air was clear and bright, the sky blue and distant and studded with herds of feral white clouds. Here everything was the same ruddy grey, the horizon blending with the sky in a veil of dust and shimmering heat-haze brought on by another of the country's apparently never-ending droughts.
As she reached the patio a waiter launched from the shade and bounced toward her – literally bounced – grinning and calling out to her all the while, much to the disgust of those few patrons who hadn't retreated to somewhere cold and dark for the duration.
"Ah la belle mademoiselle Étoile, so nice to see you on such a fine warm summer's day," he sang, simultaneously adjusting a parasol and pulling back a chair for Star to be seated. Star had seen few earth ponies capable of multitasking so effectively – or flamboyantly, for that matter. She couldn't help but give him a brief, grudging smile for the effort.
"Morceau, the day is horrendous."
"But of course," the waiter trilled, glancing at the sky. "Les météorologiques have their, how might you say, special training requirements again today."
"That's a new one."
"Toi connaît la musique," Morceau said, laughing as he flipped open his order book. He leaned closer to Star and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "They are blockading Chevalais for better pensions, or so I am told by mes amis down at the bureau, though how making life difficult for our griffon friends will bring them more money I have no idea. Still, what can you do but enjoy the sunny day they have so generously given us in exchange mh? Now what can I get for you, my dear Étoile? Your regular? Or perhaps something a little more," he licked his lips, "non-toxic?"
"Just water," Star replied, peering out at the square. The last of the stalls had shut up and been dragged away, leaving nothing but bare dirt and cobblestone, and the peculiar, stultifying silence that always seemed to come with certain kinds of heat.
Morceau snorted and shook his head as he departed with Star's order. "Water she says. You are ill, Étoile, if you are asking for water; or touched by the sun perhaps. Maybe the silver lining has its cloud after all mh? Ah but there is not a cloud in the great wide sky..."
The café door rattled its bell as Morceau disappeared into the shady interior. That left Star another few minutes to herself, with nothing to do but stare at the deserted town square and mull over the last few months of her life as she had done every single day of the three weeks she'd spent in Châtaigneroux. It was unbearable, or almost so. She found herself wishing for a newspaper or a book, or even some trashy gossip magazine to pass the time. Or her journal, safely stashed in her room at the two-bit dive that laughably claimed to be a hotel.
The quiet sound of hooves on the pavement brought Star back to the dismal present, but at least it was something to hear. She turned a little to the newcomer, half-smiling. "Morceau I've changed my mind."
It wasn't Morceau. Star's voice caught in her throat as she looked up at the stallion standing over her, into eyes filled with so much longing and unvoiced desire. He tilted his head at her and blinked so very slowly, the way he had when they'd first started courting.
"Lucent."
The word was almost choked out between shallow breaths as she tried to take control of her body again. Lucent's eyes widened just a fraction at the sound but he didn't otherwise react, not even when the waiter returned with a clattering tray on his back.
"So that normally would be two and fifty-six but for you ma cherie it is– oh-hoh? But what is this?" With a casual smile Morceau set the tray down on a nearby table and wandered over to Star's side, though his eyes lingered more on Lucent than anything else. "Why, ma Étoile, you did not tell me you had such a fine stallion at your beck and call! I would have tried to seduce you sooner had I known."
"Coffee, Morceau. Marabica, black, honey, lemon, bring it out and then leave us in peace."
"If you say so, mademoiselle," the waiter replied, sighing and shaking his head. He set Star's water on the table and flipped the tray onto his back once again. As he left he hummed a jaunty tune that Star thought familiar, but couldn't place for the life of her.
She waited. Lucent, for all his usual personality, seemed strangely quiet and distant as he tilted his head at her again. It was as if he was waiting for something. They stared at one another for a while longer until Star threw her forehooves in the air, kicked back the other chair chair and shuffled around the table. She pointed at the empty chair and motioned for Lucent to sit.
"What are you doing here?"
Lucent lowered himself into the seat. He took a breath and looked around the square, finally breaking eye-contact, but still he didn't speak. His eyes strayed to the café door, briefly flashing with something that might have been anger before the resigned emptiness returned.
"I could ask you the same," he finally replied. "The university said your expedition ended months ago."
"I felt like travelling a little longer."
Lucent just raised an eyebrow at the statement. A shallow breeze wandered through the square in the silence, swirling up a cloud of dust into a briefly-standing devil that wandered past their table, bowing and dancing and circling back as if it couldn't get enough of their company before abruptly falling apart as the wind died. It took with it the last hint of sound in the square; even the crackle of baking earth and the creak of their seats seemed to cease, leaving just the heat and solid, lifeless air between them.
"See the world," Star continued. She tapped her hooves on the table and leaned back, watching Lucent for any reaction, but all he did was stare at the far side of the empty market. "Explore some place I hadn't explored before, you know? Trotyes was nice, that's where the expedition disbanded if you're wondering. Rather pretty little university town up in the pays de Râblé. Celestia alone knows how I managed to survive there. You know I never learned Prançais? No, wait, they called it Gambadoise up there."
Words failing her, Star reached for the glass of water and took a deep draught. Its short stay in the heat had turned it tepid, the warmth of the liquid tricking her tongue and making the drink taste sour and musty. Old. With shake of her head she put the drink down. A moment later the door creaked and rang as Morceau returned, bearing a tray atop his head with two steaming cups of coffee and an assortment of fresh-cut flowers.
"Mademoiselle, monsieur, deux café, les fleurs, l'addition," he sang as he laid out the items from the tray, before giving Star a quick bow. "Bon appétite."
Morceau turned to leave, then paused for a moment longer to examine Lucent. The elder stallion raised an eyebrow at his silent interlocutor, soon joined by the other as Morceau winked and briefly licked his teeth before dancing away into his café, humming the same tune Star had heard every day she had been to the place.
It was only once the door had closed that Lucent reached for his coffee, the cup floating gently upward in his magic until it reached his lips. He snuffed at it once, took a tiny sip and then set it back on the table, before leaning forward with a sigh.
"What will I do with you, Star?"
"I can think of one or two things," Star murmured. Lucent rolled his eyes and leaned back again, but he was smiling. Just a little. "Enough of the dancing, Luci. What do you want?"
The smile vanished, replaced with a downturned lip that really didn't suit Lucent's noble muzzle. He turned back to stare across the square, swallowing and blinking at imaginary tears before he spoke.
"Come home."
"Luci..."
"I need you, Star. We all–" Lucent closed his eyes and swallowed again. The tears were real this time.
"Luci, I've been away for long periods before. It's not as if you can't live without me."
He shook his head. "It's different this time. Those other times we all knew when you'd be back, we all knew... Star, you've been gone and almost completely out of touch. Scintilla, she's making noise about t-taking Glint away from me, or– or taking us both, taking over the herd. Crincile can't stand up to her, Twilight is just pretending nothing is happening. And the foals... Star, they have no idea what's going on and I can't– I can't help them. We need you back, Star. I need you back."
A hoof slid toward her. Now that she looked closer Star could see signs: a badly brushed coat, deep, dark bags peeking through the hair under red-rimmed eyes. Lucent hadn't slept well for some time if she was any judge.
"I'll deal with Scintilla," she said quietly, ignoring that her mind had apparently made itself up without asking her. Lucent swallowed again and didn't reply, but she could see the tension draining from his body like ice melting in the sun.
Somehow her coffee had managed turn cold despite the heat. She drank it anyway. She'd paid for it after all, or at least she would have in a few moments. Lucent was fiddling with his cup, eyes darting nervously back and forth between it and Star's hooves on the table. He cleared his throat and seemed about to speak, but again stayed silent.
"Okay," Star growled, rolling her eyes. "I suppose I should ask the ten thousand bit question. How is she?"
"She's, ah, well. Well enough. We had her naming ceremony a few weeks after you left." He gave Star a reproachful look; another important moment you've missed, it said. Star rolled her eyes.
"As long as you didn't pick anything ridiculous. If my daughter has ended up with a name like Sliced Granola or Scooter Skater I will not be held responsible for my actions. I'm serious," she exclaimed as Lucent started laughing. She couldn't help but smile. It looked like the first decent laugh he'd had for quite some time.
"Her name is perfectly acceptable. Even to you." The coffee cup by his hoof rattled as his magic toyed with it again. "After all you're the one who chose it."
"I did?"
"When we three first courted, Star, the pair of you told me that your first filly would be named after whoever didn't have it, remember?"
Star rubbed the side of her head as the memories of her youth slowly returned to her. It had been a very long time ago. "I see. The rash impetuousness of my quondam days catches up to me yet again."
With a slight smile she reached out to Lucent and touched his shoulder. It was the first physical contact she'd had with him in quite some time and it was as if she had just touched a piece of heaven itself. How could she ever have run away from this?
"It could be worse," she murmured, running her hoof up and down his foreleg. He didn't smile. "So. Twilight. I assume she has a few more? You noble types do like your long birth certificates."
"Amaranth," Lucent said, leaning toward Star. "After your sister."
"Is that so? I'm sure she must be delighted. What else?"
"Guinevere."
"After the first duchess of Canterlot? My goodness you do have your pretensions."
Lucent laughed and bobbed his head. He leaned closer and kissed Star on her snout. "And Sparkle, after the light of my life."
"I would hope so. That name is all my family has to hang on to these days." Star closed her eyes. Somehow she had found her way around the table to Lucent's side; her stallion leaned across her, resting his head atop her mane as a foreleg traced small circles against her chest and neck.
"I've missed you so, so much, Star," he said, voice quaking out of nowhere. "Don't ever do this to me again."
"Lucent..."
"Promise me," he said. "And come home."
The sun still burned, the air still clawed at everything, holding its heat close to their bodies. Pressed as she was against Lucent, Star should have been painfully overheated, but all she could feel was the deep throb of his heart and the cool of his breath against her ear. She turned slightly, bringing her nose against his coat to breath his scent, dark and musky and so achingly familiar. With a resigned sigh, Star closed her eyes.
It was the hangover that woke her: a clawing, needling pain just behind her horn and eyes that persisted no matter how Star tried to ignore it or wish it away. As consciousness slowly pounded its way back into her skull, she squeezed her eyes shut, fired off one of the many hangover spells she had learned over the years, and spent the next few moments considering the possibility that perhaps she had over-indulged just a little.
Despite the throbbing of her brain there was a certain, distinct pleasure in waking up in a warm bed, especially when the bed contained another pony. Two or three extra would be nice, but she wasn't about to complain. The pony at her side wasn't nearly large enough to be Lucent, which also ruled out Glint. Not that he would have been interested in her anyway, at least not without Lucent in between them.
With her magic finally infiltrating her aching mind, Star was able to consider her surroundings more clearly. She didn't dare risk opening her eyes yet – she'd found very early in life that hangovers like this left her ridiculously sensitive to even moderately bright light, and the problem had only gotten worse as the years passed by – but she could still hear well enough. What she heard began to worry her a little. A fire was burning somewhere, crackling low and steady as if banked for the night. Beyond that she could hear the creak and rustle of trees shifting in a gentle breeze and wildlife of every sort calling and yelling and shuffling amongst the undergrowth.
"Blasted rural idyl," she muttered as she tried to tune out the noise.
With her next breath, her nose was filled with the musty stink of earth and wood and the heady aroma of spices, and smoky air thick with the scent of tarragon and plantain and a hundred other things that carried memories of a distant time and place, when her life had been simple, and her future nothing but possibilities. As Star's sluggish mind processed the scents, she idly ran her foreleg and muzzle against the pony next to her, only to find a coat completely and utterly wrong. Familiar, but dimly so, from a long time in her past.
With a sigh and and a snort Star's companion rolled onto her back, mumbling something in a language Star hadn't heard for more than a decade. Dreading what she would see, yet knowing the inevitability of it, Star cracked open one eye and tried to focus on the pony next to her.
An incomprehensible maze of dark and light greeted her wincing eyes, before resolving slowly into the familiar shape of a zebra. Her heart lurched in her chest, and for a brief moment Star wondered if she had somehow dreamed the last thirty years of her life, only to awake back in some nameless zebra village on the plains. Then she recognised the face of the zebra at her side, and some semblance of reality returned to her mind.
"You."
Zecora's lips twisted into a sly smile as she opened her eyes. "And a good morning to you too, Star Sparkle of Canterlot. Though it seems that perhaps you believe it is not."
"That's one way of putting it," she grunted. Star shook her head, only to regret the act as her headache returned, refreshed and invigorated by its short rest. All things considered, she would have preferred the mind-bending fantasy. "How much did I drink last night?"
"Enough."
"I suppose so."
Zecora snorted again and murmured something vaguely insulting in her native language. Yet she made no effort to move, despite how close their bodies lay.
With nothing better to do, Star let her foreleg drape across Zecora's side and closed her eyes. As she took another deep draw of the musty air, she could almost imagine she was back on the Marengeti, and that the last thirty years of her life hadn't been leached from her and burned away by time and temper. Even the rumbling growl of a manticore in the distance felt as if it had been plucked from her past, bring to mind memories of nights spent huddled in the middle of an Ngulube herd while the proud young warriors of the tribe circled around and about, on the lookout for lions and other predators, their gait awkward and lopsided as they favoured the precious obsidian claw blades strapped to their hooves.
There were days when she wondered what might have happened had she simply stayed.
The bed shifted. Star felt Zecora crawling across her belly, mumbling incessantly as she moved, until with a loud thump her hooves found the floor. The zebra pottered away in silence, and a moment later Star could hear the sound of logs thudding into the fire. Soon the room had warmed enough that staying in bed threatened to become even more uncomfortable than it already felt.
Star rolled to one side, flinging a rough woollen quilt from her body as crawled to her haunches and rubbed her eyes before looking around Zecora's hut. The zebra in question had retreated to a niche on the far side of the single large room and now lurked beneath the curl of a great, old root of the tree that served as her home's roof. Her snout was buried in a tattered old book. Between her niche and the bed a line of scattered scrolls and parchment lay, angling away and around the room to another table on the far side. The sight brought back vague memories of a heated argument over the content of the scrolls, not to mention the possibility that Zecora was hiding something important. And then...
Another pulse of low pain flared behind her eyes; Star winced rubbed a wrist against her forehead, forcing her horn to cast a faint aura. Normally that would have boosted the analgesic spell she had cast, but today it didn't seem to have an effect beyond sensitising her horn and focusing her mind on the existing ache. And other things. She let out a pained sigh, stretched her back, and flopped to the floor.
"I'm starting to suspect you lied to me, zebra," Star declared. She rolled open the nearest scroll, slowly lest she damage the aged parchment, and stared at the faded scrawlings upon it. A trade receipt, one of the many dozens Zecora had waved at her the previous night, long after any semblance of rational discourse had left them. With a snort she dismissed the scroll and turned her glare toward Zecora again. "You told me last night that you knew the location of Great Tswana, then spent the next several hours fobbing me off with diversions and alcohol. And then—"
"Does it pain you to be so easily led with promises and pleasures to another's bed?" Zecora looked up from her book, fixing Star with a narrow-eyed gaze.
The scroll at her feet wound itself up with a quiet slap. Star opened her mouth to respond, only to realise she had no answer; instead she leaned forward to grasp the parchment between her teeth. If nothing else it got her away from Zecora's glare for a few moments.
More scrolls were piled on a table on the far side of the fire pit, which now rose with a steady, crackling flame beneath a soot-blackened cauldron. Star briskly circled the pit and deposited her scroll with its companions, before turning to look across the room again.
"You must have had more than this rubbish," Star growled.
Zecora looked up, raising her eyebrows at Star's outburst, but didn't reply. Wincing against the light again and rubbing her head with both hooves, Star tried to recall the direction their conversation had taken the previous night.
"When we came here you said you were going to show me everything you had," she muttered as her hooves slid to the floor. "But as far as I can recall you've only shown me this pile of worthless scrolls and your—"
Despite the light, Star's eyes grew wide as she turned to eye Zecora. The zebra tossed her head and chuckled, before nosing to a new page in her book.
"You tricked me."
With a loud, spine-breaking crack, Zecora's hoof slammed against her book. She flipped it closed and stood up, glaring at Star all the while. "I did no such thing to you, who told me that she liked the view. You took me to my bed last night! Do you regret by morning's light the thing you so desired from me, and this form you praised so lavishly?"
As Zecora spoke she moved, circling the quietly simmering cauldron with short, purposeful steps that soon brought her face to face with Star. Her deep blue eyes gave away nothing of her feelings. Every part of her body was still, and as silent to Star's perceptions as if she had been made of stone.
"I used no tricks to bring you here, and it was you that whispered in my ear and set us on this path of lust. To blame me now would be unjust." She snorted and nuzzled at Star's neck. "Not that you had much complaint when I was licking at your—"
"Celestia's creamy teats!" Star reared up on her hind legs to push Zecora away. "You don't have to tell me about it!"
"I could show you instead," Zecora crooned, narrowing her eyes. Her lips curled into a lopsided smile. "You don't even have to be in bed."
"Thank you, but no."
Zecora shrugged Star from her shoulders and stepped back, her eyes sliding up and down Star's frame before she turned away. The way she shook her tail as she crossed the room would likely have got her arrested in Canterlot – not that Star could claim innocence of such behaviour herself in the past, although she had never found herself in those situations without at least some memory of what had transpired beforehand.
She stole another glance at the pile of parchment and frowned.
"There must be something else. You said you'd been to Great Tswana, but all you've done is wave a few old letters at me." Star batted at the pile of scrolls and snorted. "This rubbish could have come from anywhere."
"It is from Elitswanakhulu," Zecora huffed. "I am surprised I cannot convince you."
"Frankly it would take more than a few of your mangled rhymes to do that, especially after—just tell me where the city is, for Celestia's sake! You've been there, you must know how to get back!"
Zecora turned her eyes to the ceiling and sighed. "I would tell you where to end your journey, but I fear that you would not believe me."
"So this whole excursion was a complete waste of time. Wonderful! At least I got a drink out of it." Star brushed a hoof across her head, not caring that it left her mane stuck out at odd angles. She turned to gather up the scrolls Zecora had laid out, while the zebra sauntered back to her alcove and sat down again.
"Despite what you may believe, your invitation to my home was not meant to deceive." Zecora rested her hooves on the table and let out a quiet sigh.
"Oh of course not, you just decided to get me plastered and—" Star blinked as another memory surfaced. "Oh. I'd forgotten I could bend like that..."
Zecora's tail twitched. On any other day, on any other face, the toothy grin she wore would have seemed entirely innocent. Not today, Star thought, as she lowered her head and took a deep breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth. It was supposed to help calm the mind, but despite the assurances of the woebegotten 'princess' Shining had married, it didn't work even slightly.
"Fine. All right. Might as well carry this farce out to its conclusion." She sat down on the floor. "So. Are you going to tell me, or should I just walk out of that door?"
Zecora's chair creaked as she leaned to one side, but then she paused and shook her head. "For me to tell this path to you, a final thing you first must do."
"Really? So you're not content with tricking me away from my family, extracting promises that I'll stop 'tormenting' my daughter—" Star snorted as Zecora rolled her eyes "—and getting me completely drunk and taking me to your bed, now you want to make even more demands of me?"
Rather than respond, Zecora leaned forward to pick up her book from where it had fallen on the floor. She placed it on a table and nosed it open, sighing over its shredded spine, before gently teasing a loose page back into place.
"It is but a small favour I ask, and then I shall leave you be," she said, lowering herself back to her seat. "In your slumber you named a pony, Amaranth."
As she spoke she turned a narrow-eyes gaze on Star. In the shadow of her nook, her eyes appeared bright as golden fire, and for a moment too long to be just coincidence, Star found herself unable to look away.
"Who is she?"
"I—" Star's mouth dried out and closed up all at once. She turned her head, swallowing and coughing as she tried to wet her tongue, and tried to suppress the tension that reached across her stomach and back like a coiling snake.
Zecora returned her gaze to her book, tilting her head as she examined it. "I have found in deepest sleep that seldom we our secrets keep. This Amaranth you named again and again. Her memory must bring to you great pain."
Star trotted around the room to Zecora's nook and pushed her head into it, one hoof resting on the pages of Zecora's desk, the other on her withers.
"Amaranth is none of your business," she growled, her hoof grinding against the tattered pages of Zecora's book until another popped free with a quiet crack.
A hiss of air escaped between Zecora's teeth, and she winced and leaned back from the slowly disintegrating book, until finally Star relented and pulled her hoof away. The book gave out a series of quiet crackles as it settled back from its torture. With a gentle hoof, Zecora poked at the book and then winced again as something within the binding popped, and the front cover slid loose.
"If this price cannot be met, my friend, then your time with me is at an end," Zecora sighed. She lifted her gaze from the book and closed her eyes. "These scrolls are of no use to me. Take any you wish, from those you now see. Within their dark hide is all that you need to find your goal, if their words you heed. Turn now away from that distant far place, and see your desire in front of your face, for the thing you most want is not where you expected, but shall be found where family's love-bond was rejected."
Gritting her teeth, Star glared at Zecora even though the latter seemed entirely oblivious to her frustration. When it was clear that the zebra wasn't going to say any more, Star backed away from the alcove and began sorting through the rough assortment of scrolls and parchments.
"I knew this was a mistake," she muttered as she gathered up her haul. "You bloody zebra are all the same. Can't get a straight answer out of any of you."
Ignoring Star's jibe, Zecora lifted her forelegs to either side of her head and began to quietly sing. It was a simple song, one of loss and sorrow, and hope for the future. The last time Star had heard it had been at the Parting of her Ngulube hosts, when she and Indy had watched the males of the tribe depart for their winter grounds, before their own expeditionary group left the remainder of the tribe to return home.
No. Not the last. There had been one more.
A pile of scrolls hovered in Star's magic, close to her head and unmoving. She pressed a clutch of them into her bags, but then paused to stare at the rest. and her heart filled with disgust. Useless, they were all useless. She tossed the scrolls to the floor and walked from Zecora's cottage without a backward glance., and into a small clearing.
The bright light of the mid-morning sun died at the edge of the marshy, brush-buried clearing, cut short by a near-impenetrable hedge of trees and undergrowth that was rendered all the more daunting by the endless, misty gloom beyond. As she reached the perimeter, Star looked over her shoulder at Zecora's hut, then up at the great tree amongst whose roots the ramshackle cottage had made its home. It was completely isolated, with nary a single branch of the surrounding forest so much as daring to reach toward it.
She let her eyes trace down the trees to the spot before her, which looked just open enough to squeeze through. In fact Star wasn't entirely sure how she'd come to the clearing the previous night – there seemed to be no obvious path, yet she remembered the way being easy enough. Perhaps it had just been excitement, she mused as she ducked beneath one low branch and shimmied over another.
Eventually, after gathering enough leaf litter and mulch in her coat to feed a small garden, Star found herself at the edge of a broad and fairly straight path that looked at least a little familiar. She stepped onto the ancient, crumbling stonework and paused to look both ways along the road; to her right it travelled back to the forest, losing itself amongst murky undergrowth and swirling blue mist. Left took her toward light, and through a break in the trees she caught a glimpse of a clear sky and a patch of open grassland. Star turned from it and back to the gloaming forest, idly scratching at a patch of muck on her neck as her mind wound back to the jungles she had travelled so long ago.
A distant manticore call snapped Star from her reverie. She quickly retreated toward the light, leaving the Everfree and its secrets to the mist. Her walk became a brisk trot, and in a few minutes she plunged from the darkness and into the bright, sun-soaked bowls of the Saddles. That too sparked memories of her earlier life, though the plains of the Marengeti were flat and burnt and endless, studded with acacia and balanites, while this was a vast green-and-gold sea of low hills and long, rolling grass.
A trail curled across the landscape toward Ponyville, little more than earth beaten down by the regular passage of perhaps a half-dozen ponies. As she followed it, Star's well-trained eyes would occasionally light on remnants of dressed stone or shards of corroded metal, half-buried in the earth and all but lost in the tall grass.
At a turn in the trail, in the lee of a shallow rise, she paused and looked down at a broad, flat stone inlaid with faint traces of what might once have been an intricate carving. Star leaned down to the stone, glaring at it as if she might intimidate it to release its secrets, but all she found was impenetrable granite. Then her stomach rumbled, and Star remembered that she hadn't eaten properly since breakfast the previous day. She briefly considered and rejected waiting until she had returned to town – chances were some element of her extended family would drag her off to do something 'important' before she had a chance to shower, let alone eat – before plunging her snout into the meadow and cropping a fat mouthful of sweet grass.
Star wandered up the slope, chewing at her improvised meal, and selected a spot to sit and watch the Everfree Forest. From here it looked peaceful, almost inviting, especially compared to the slimy, muddy jungles of her youth. She took a fresh mouthful of grass, and withdrew a selection of Zecora's scrolls from her bag.
They were old and blackened by time, but the spidery Duncan script was still legible if she squinted. Star tugged her glasses free and, after straightening the arms – a legacy of her tumble with Rainbow Dash the previous day – dropped them on her snout to take a closer look.
"To she that rises over the mount, and the name of her... thigh... I love... I greet you," she read, slowly, and then shook her head. "Call myself a scholar, I can barely read this rubbish. Maybe I'll con Twilight into translating it for me."
As she moved on to the next document, Star blinked. And then a moment later she realised that she hadn't blinked at all. Star's head jerked up; she tugged her glasses from her nose and stuffed them into her bags along with the scrolls, while her eyes roamed the cloud-speckled skies for sign of whatever had overflown her.
She turned to face Ponyville just as something thudded to the ground, and Star found herself face to face with a very grumpy sky-blue pegasus.
"Of course it's you," she grunted, as Rainbow Dash trotted the short distance toward her. "Come to drag me back to the minotaur's lair?"
"What? Minotaur?" Rainbow Dash shook her head. "No I've come to—woah what is that smell? Did you fall in a septic tank?"
"Actually I was exploring your quaint little forest," Star replied, shrugging. She looked over her shoulder at the border of the Everfree and shook her head. "Seems rather tame."
Rainbow Dash leapt into the air and hovered just above Star's head, from where she jabbed Star squarely in the chest with an outstretched hoof. "Tame? Have you seen the crap that lives in that place?"
"If by 'crap' you mean your friend the zebra then, yes, I am rather intimately acquainted. Other than that..." Star stepped back from Dash and smiled. She could see the pegasus about to speak again and quickly held up a hoof for silence. "What are you doing here, Rainbow Dash?"
"I was gonna ask you the same thing." Dash settled back down to earth and folded her wings, ruffling them once or twice until she seemed satisfied with their state. "Twilight almost blew a hole in the roof when she found out you were gone last night."
"She made it abundantly clear that I wasn't wanted," Star replied. "And as I was presented with the opportunity for a little archaeological study, I thought I might as well give her some space. It appeared to be the wisest course."
"Yeah well, you're just lucky Lero managed to talk her down and convince her you weren't doing anything dumb." Dash frowned as she looked over Star. "Right?"
"I'm a tenured professor, Rainbow Dash. Quite possibly one of the most intelligent ponies you've ever met."
"I'm pretty sure Twilight's smarter than you, but she does dumb stuff all the time." Rainbow flapped her wings, their force just strong enough to hop her briefly into the air. She stepped back a distance from Star and nodded back toward Ponyville. "Come on, I have to get you back before she decides to prove me right again. And you need a shower."
As they set off, Star tilted her head to one side and took a shallow breath through her nose. She winced. "I don't think I'm going to argue on that point. This is almost as bad as my second expedition."
Laughing, Rainbow Dash hauled herself into the air and looped over Star, before slowly flapping backward in front of her. She seemed to be showing off, but persistent breeze across Star's back was just enough to keep the growing stench from drifting Rainbow's way. "You mean you've stunk like this before?"
"Oh I've endured far worse," Star confirmed. She let her eyes trace the motion of Rainbow's wings as she thought back. It was a novel experience, having an audience that wasn't either ignorantly hostile or criminally lazy. "My second expedition was to northern Dumanya, to a place we usually called the Marengeti, though the zebra who live there call it something entirely different that I can't even hope to pronounce. It was myself, Twilight Velvet and a few postgrads performing a hippological study with the aim of creating a more complete model of Zebra tribal herding practices. Make-work really. We already knew everything we needed to know by then. Twilight and I were just there to oversee the postgrads and make sure they didn't get pregnant."
"How would they get pregnant?"
Star rolled her eyes. Perhaps she'd overestimated this lithe little creature after all. "We spent eight months living with a tribe of two hundred and eleven zebra, just over half of whom were stallions. I think even you can work out the details, my dear."
"Wow..." Rainbow Dash almost went cross-eyed as her mind wound over the possibilities. She settled to the ground and began to walk alongside Star. "But you had a herd already, didn't you?"
"You think I would risk my bond with Lucent over a quick lay with some big-balled idiot zebra? I'm not going to endanger my position chasing every unsheathed male in sight!" Star frowned at the sound of Rainbow Dash's throaty chuckle. She glared at the pegasus. "Believe it or not, Rainbow Dash, I have some self control, unlike some of those randy little idiots I was tasked to look after."
"That's not what Glint Garnet told me," Rainbow murmured. She looked away to the horizon. For a while they walked in silence, until Rainbow Dash cleared her throat. "So... how'd you end up stinky?"
"Eight months in the tropics without a shower."
"Oh."
"I'm not sure what else you expected." Star shot Rainbow a grin. "I suppose I could have spun a story about finding some ancient treasure in a mud-filled temple somewhere—"
"Oh come on! I thought you were an archaeologist!"
"I am, but that trip was too early in my career for that sort of thing. Nothing but interminable conversations about courting habits and the occasional mud bath. I remember Velvet quite enjoyed those..." Star lifted her leg and poked Rainbow's shoulder. "But that's hardly the sort of Daring Do adventure you're thinking of, my girl! Now my fourth expedition took me through the deep jungles of Boarundi, a place that makes this Everfree Forest of yours look like a petting zoo. I and a select group of colleagues spent almost an entire season tracking down an ancient temple of an extinct nation called the Kuur, allegedly the home of a trove of priceless historical artefacts, and let me tell you it was a hard-won prize..."
* * *
A stream of violently hot water rained down upon Star's back, sluicing away the last grimy remnants of her morning excursion. The close humidity and the pressing heat had also driven out the final vestiges of her hangover, along with an utterly annoying knot of tension across her shoulders that she hadn't even noticed until it was gone.
She barely moved as she stood under the shower, letting the water cascade across her withers and neck and face while her mind worked over Zecora's parting words. She wanted to dismiss them as the ramblings of an addled old shaman, but Zecora had either aged incredibly well, or she was still relatively young. Of course that didn't rule out a little addling, what with all the odd herbs and roots and things that she was sure to have consumed as part of her profession.
With that, Star's already tenuous train of thought departed entirely, leaving her to contemplate the wall of her hosts' shower. Like everything else in the house this human had built, it was tall, and consequently felt constricting and narrow despite its deceptive breadth. Everything – from the controls, to the shower-head, to the handle of the oversized glass screen shielding the rest of the bathroom – was at the very edge of her reach, and only a particularly athletic pony or a unicorn would be able to use them comfortably. Or a minotaur, perhaps. Not that any of those creatures would be caught dead in something so utilitarian as a shower if they could choose one of their overly-complicated bath-houses instead.
Star's magic reached out and cut off the water, and she stepped out of the shower and into the bathroom. Of course the size difference was reflected here as well, right down to the towels hanging from a rack on the far wall. Star lifted the corner of one and pondered it for a moment. It was incredibly soft, and she found herself wondering if the human had ordered them specially. A quick tug of her magic pulled one of the towels to the floor, where it spread out like a bright woolen carpet.
Star prodded at the thick quilting with a hoof. Then, giggling in a way she hadn't since university, she flung herself upon the to roll around like a foal in a summer meadow. It wasn't a particularly dignified way for someone to stumble upon her, as she found out just moments later when, laid out on her back with her legs all in the air, Star opened her eyes to find the towel's owner staring down at her from the door. He had his head tilted to one side and what she took to be a bemused expression, though it really was so difficult to tell when his ears remained so stubbornly silent.
"Enjoying the view?" She grinned at him. A moment later he gave her an uncertain smile in return. Star lowered her legs and rolled to her side and then her front. With the human staring down at her from atop his slender legs, it felt like an unusually submissive position.
"That's my towel," said Lero. His head tilted to one side as he spoke.
"I borrowed it. I assumed you wouldn't mind."
"That seems to be something you assume quite often," the human replied.
Star grinned and shook her head as she remembered the last time the pair had engaged in a verbal sparring match. "It's inevitable anyway. I just cut to the chase."
"Would that be when they chase you out of the building for being so overbearing?"
"You're rather quick-witted for a monkey."
Something that could have been anger flashed across his face. It was barely a flicker, but the emotion was real enough. Star filed the thought away for later and grinned again, until the human abruptly knelt down in front of her.
"Ape," he said, reaching out one of his all-encompassing hands toward her face, and wiggling his rat-tail fingers in front of her eyes. "Humans aren't monkeys. Opposable thumbs and no tail. See?"
The hand twisted and slid under Star's muzzle, gripping her jaw from both sides with surprising strength; she found quite quickly that his grip was just firm enough to keep her from moving unless he allowed it. Still smiling, Lero lifted Star's chin until she faced him, and gave a quick tweak of his finger and thumb to lift the corners of her mouth. Then he let her go, and when he stood his body rose with such haste that Star was left feeling quite dizzy.
"You should smile more often," he said as he turned away. "I might have an idea of how Twilight will look when she's your age, if you did."
"She'll look exactly like me," Star grunted. She hauled herself to her feet and set about folding the towel. "After all, I am her mother."
"I agree." Lero's hand reached out of nowhere and tugged the towel away from Star. "Her smile will look exactly like her mother's."
Humming quietly, the human folded his towel into a neat little parcel and dropped it in a basket by the door. He held his hand out to Star and beckoned her forward.
"Time to face the music."
"Celestia's horn," Star groaned. "Don't tell me you're going to sing again."
"I hadn't planned on it." Lero's reply was slow and considered. He rubbed his chin and then scratched behind his ear, and Star found herself wishing for a similar ability. A hoof could only do so much, and there were times when magic wasn't quite up to the task.
"Well good," she grumbled. To her annoyance she felt a very slight tickling sensation at the base of her neck, just where her hooves couldn't reach. How typical "I had wax dribbling out of my ears for days after the last time."
"I think you're trying to provoke me," he said once they had stepped out into the hallway. Star looked up at him, and saw a faint smile on his lips.
"And if I am?"
The smile only broadened as Lero ushered her through the empty house. She paused by the door to tug a few scrolls and a folder from her bags. Ignoring Lero's questioning look, she strapped the folder across her back and stepped out into the sun. Across the road, opposite the house, Star could see a knot of ponies milling in one corner of a park – the same park Star had found herself nearly barrelled into the previous day.
As they crossed the road – itself barely more than a flat stretch of grass – Star caught sight of Lucent, Twilight Velvet and a third very familiar young pegasus. They were stood a little way from the main group, conversing in a tight triangle, though the way the pegasus kept fluffing her wings made it clear that she'd rather be doing something else entirely.
Star grinned as she turned to Lero, and gently waved im away. "Thank you for the escort, young man, but there are some family matters to attend to. I'm sure you understand."
Before he could reply she trotted away. A lack of protest from the human almost made her pause. Before she reached Lucent she glanced over her shoulder and saw that the human had made his way over to the rest of her family – and his – and was in the process of scooping up little Guiding Light from the ground at Lyra's feet. Just for a moment, Star felt a flash of something in her gut at the sight.
She dismissed the thought as she cantered toward her family.
"So nice of you to finally join us," Lucent remarked as she tramped to his side. To an outsider his voice would have sounded light and casual. Star was anything but an outsider, and when her gaze flickered to the ground beneath Lucent she found a number of very deep hoofprints.
"Well..." Star drawled. She smiled at Lucent. "I'm afraid I got myself rather caught up in the shower. A girl has to look her best of a morning, don't you think?"
"There are only ten minutes of that morning left." Lucent raised his head and stared out over the park. There was a smile on his face when he spoke, but his voice was humourless. "And not to put too fine a point on it, Star, but you were gone all night."
"I thought I should get out of Twilight's mane. Both of them." Star winked at Twilight Velvet and stuck out her tongue.
"And take the chance for another of your little dalliances?"
Star pursed her lips. That was Velvet through and through, always showing off her erudition whenever she was upset, to the point where Star could gauge her mood purely by how soon she had to resort to looking up words in a dictionary before she could reply.
"I was offered a chance to advance my research. Speaking of which..."
Before Star could even think to reach for the folder on her back, Twilight Velvet snorted and tramped at the ground, digging out a fat divot of earth and unconsciously mirroring Lucent. "Research. I suppose the fact that she was a zebra had nothing to do with it?"
"Don't you start. I had an opportunity, I took it," Star shot back. She turned to nuzzle the pegasus, ignoring Twilight Velvet's muttered profanity. "At least you two were kind enough to bring me breakfast. Good morning, Cinnamon."
"Oh stop it you old goat," Cinnamon replied. She flapped a wing in Star's face, as if this would somehow discourage her advances. Instead, Star drew a little closer and tucked herself under the wing before Cinnamon could fold it properly away.
"You love it really, you know." Star closed her eyes and pressed her cheek against Cinnamon's neck for a moment. "What about Crystal and Scintilla?"
"They're in Manehattan," Cinnamon sighed as she pushed herself away from Star, though her wing remained resting on Star's hips. Star could feel a feather tickling at the base of her spine, accompanied by a steady warming of her lower body. Not for the first time she wished she hadn't told the young pegasus about that particular spot. "Some last-minute thing. They took Mal and the girls with them as well, told me to fly over here and let you know rather than shelling out for a rail ticket."
"Of course, they would pull out at the last moment," Star muttered. She tried to discreetly shift herself out from beneath Cinnamon's wing, but the pegasus somehow contrived to keep it in exactly the right place.
Twilight Velvet shuffled up next to Lucent and frowned at Cinnamon. She seemed to be entirely oblivious to Star's growing discomfort, though Star also considered the possibility that she was fully aware of it, and just didn't care.
"Surely it wouldn't take you all morning to fly here from Canterlot?"
"Oh, well, I had to walk part of the way," Cinnamon replied. She bit her lip and smiled, then leaned toward the two mares and spoke with a lowered voice. "There's a farm near here with this gorgeous hunk of a stallion wandering around all by himself. One look at him and I was grounded."
"I know that farm." Star shrugged Cinnamon's wing from her back and turned away before she could drop it in place again. She'd have to corner Lucent later. "One of Twilie's friends owns it, I think. It's only a few minutes walk from here."
"As if you're the one to worry about timekeeping," Twilight Velvet muttered. She looked away before Star could give her a decent frown, and it was only after a moment that Star realised her gaze had travelled to the human again; he lurked in the background as Lyra demonstrated a few simple magic tricks to Guiding Light. The youngster was enraptured, and entirely oblivious to the creature towering over her.
Star's ponderings were interrupted as Cinnamon shuffled closer to her side, pressing them both up against Lucent's broad body. The young pegasus looked up at Lucent with a shy grin.
"I might have got myself caught in a tree for a couple of hours..." Without warning, Cinnamon leapt toward Star and wrapped a foreleg around her withers. "Oh you should have seen him, Star! Great big shoulders and a neck like a mahogany tree trunk! And those thighs—"
Lucent cleared his throat. He raised his eyebrows and looked down at Cinnamon, then looked away to the horizon again. A sigh escaped Cinnamon's throat as her body collapsed against Star.
"Sorry," she murmured. A moment later, Lucent smiled and leaned down to nuzzle her cheek and chin.
"It's all right, Cinnamon. I realise I haven't been as attentive as I should be the last week or so," he said. Under his gentle but insistent nuzzles, Cinnamon stretched and relaxed, lifting her head to snuffle at his throat a few times. "I'm always here for you."
"I know, but he was just so gorgeous..."
"Well now, I can confess I'm not above appreciating a little, ah, rustic charm either. Perhaps if I were a few years younger we could invite this young chap to join us." Lucent's frown returned, deeper than before, as his gaze fell on Star. "But this herd is rather large already, and frankly none of us are as young as we once were. You keep us all busy enough, Cinnamon. I'm surprised even Star has the stamina to go chasing other mares these days."
"She makes up for it with sheer bloody-mindedness," Twilight Velvet growled. Despite the tone of her voice she barely looked at the trio as she spoke. Instead her eyes were fixed on Guiding Light, and after a moment she stepped away from Lucent's side and took a step toward the distant filly, but then paused, pawing at the ground.
Uncertainty wasn't something Star was used to in Twilight. When they had first met she had been shy, though determined, and the years had only hardened her resolve into a frozen blade that rarely saw the light of day, but that always lurked just behind her pleasant demeanor. A knife in a velvet scabbard was the term Cinnamon had used once, though she'd been writing for nearly three days without sleep at the time.
Star looked to Twilight Velvet, and found the mare staring right back at her. Everything she couldn't bring herself to say burned behind her eyes, and Star felt a tremendous urge to buck off the weight of expectation draped across her shoulders. Instead she shrugged herself from between Cinnamon and Lucent, and walked the short distance to the gaggle of ponies that had now gathered around Lyra and Guiding Light.
The youngster watched with wide eyes as Lyra reared onto her hind legs. With magic sparking fitfully from her horn, Lyra tumbled in a broad, weaving dance that circled around and back, all the while humming a jaunty tune. Her final step landed her before Guiding Light, and with a flourish of her hooves she bowed like a minotaur, before settling back on all fours. Her eyes opened, and she looked down at Guiding with a smile.
"When a pony is in balance with the world, she can move in ways that seem impossible." Lyra ruffling Guiding's mane. She looked around at the group. "To be balanced is to join seamlessly with the rhythm of all things, and if I had my instruments here I'd show you exactly what that means."
"Perhaps they floated away down a river," said Star, rolling her eyes. Lyra merely smiled at her.
"Where they are is where they are meant to be. If I fought that to retrieve them, I'd be missing out on this little one's company. Of course I'd also be missing out on yours."
Star looked down at Guiding Light, then back up at Lyra, but then flinched as a hoof came to rest on her back. It was Glint. He glanced at Crincile to his side and then shook his head.
"She was only showing the child a few tricks, Star."
"Though your concern for her is admirable," Crincile added. There was a twinkle in her eyes as she looked back to watch Guiding Light. "This hostility to our hosts, on the other hoof... After all the silly rumours I'd have gladly believed that this stallion of Twilight's would be a ravening monster, but he really is rather laid out."
"Except when it comes to his prices..."
Glint grinned, and a moment later his musing was answered by the human's laughter. He shook his head and held out a fisted hand to Glint, who bumped it with his hoof.
"I don't believe I've been particularly hostile. I'm just here to make sure that none of you eat Guiding Light," Star grunted. She pointed a hoof at Rainbow Dash. "Especially you."
"Whatever, ya crazy old coot," Rainbow Dash muttered as she lay her head down on Lero's thigh. The human gave Star a cool stare as he ruffled Dash's mane.
"Admirable, as I said," Crincile replied. She sniffed, and it seemed to announce a moment of quiet amongst the group. Lyra had resumed her meditations, remaining firly on all fours as she swung around in an ever-changing spiral that now had Guiding Light at the centre. Again the youngster watched with the sort of wide-eyed innocence that only little fillies could muster. Star found her mind drifting back to her early days with Shining, when he'd still been young enough forgive her unconditionally... and then to Twilight. Her own Twilight.
As if hearing her thoughts, the young unicorn shuffled away from her spot at Lero's side and wandered over to Star. At first she only stared, her jaw tightening and relaxing, whilst the others milled around behind her – Lyra had abandoned her dance once again and turned to showing a few simple spells to the youngster, and Glint and Crincile both were carefully joining the fun.
Twilight was still staring when Star let her attention return to the young unicorn.
"If you're expecting me to shed my skin and show my true evil nature you've got a long wait," she declared, to which Twilight's only answer was a roll of her eyes.
Despite that, some of the hostility seemed to drain from the air between them. Twilight's stance softened. She settled back on her haunches and took a long, deep breath.
"You were gone all night, mom."
"Of course I was! You seemed quite concerned about my presence, and Zecora had offered to show me something that I had thought might help my research. Evidently I was wrong." Star let out a sigh and looked away from the crowd, toward the distant forest. "I suppose I shall have a few more items for the university's ancient Zebrican history catalogue, but without context they're next to useless..."
"Ancient... ancient history? What were you doing last night?"
"Reading old letters, mostly. Oh and drinking that vile zebra poison your human seemed to like so much." Star shrugged the folder from her shoulders and opened it to reveal the small selection of parchment within. "That 'boar bon', or whatever it's called. All I got from the night was a headache, a sore back, and these."
Twilight barely glanced at the parchments before looking away. Shelet out a slow breath through her nose; the way her body seemed to deflate, it was almost as if something had escaped from within her.
"I think..." Twilight paused, swallowed and closed her eyes. "Did you ever find yourself trying to figure out something that you simply couldn't understand?"
"More than you'd know," Star muttered. She pulled out her glasses and turned her attention to the contents of the parchment.
"It came to me when I was researching—well it doesn't matter what I was researching. I had Lero with me, and we were both looking for the same thing, and I suddenly realised I was missing something."
Star nodded as she ran her hoof across the page. "You and me both."
"He'd fallen asleep. He'd curled up with his arm under his head and the other one wrapped around a book like it was his only friend. He hadn't even said anything to me... just waited there while I kept reading, and I hadn't even noticed. It could have been hours for all I knew. When I thought about it afterwards I realised that it was a little bit like your—um—the way you sometimes just leave. I thought, maybe if I did that too often, ponies would start to think I didn't care. I did do that when I was studying, and they did think that. Kind of..."
It took Star a few moments to realise that Twilight had fallen silent. She tore herself from the parchment and looked toward her daughter, frowning. "What?"
"Are you even listening?"
"Oh." Rubbing her face, Star looked back at the parchment again and frowned. "Sorry, sweetie, I've been trying to puzzle my way through this all morning. I was going to ask Twitwi to help with the translations, but apparently she's not interested."
"I can't possibly think why," Twilight grumbled. Nevertheless, she moved around to look at the parchment Star held in her magic. "What is it?"
"An old letter that Zecora gave me. She says it's from Great Tswana."
"Let me see..." Twilight ran across t he page, tracing a line of text, and read aloud. "Kuokuenyuka phezu kwentaba lelanga..."
Star felt her heart jump. She turned to Twilight. "You can read this?"
"Sure. Oma taught me while you were away." Twilight peered at the text and frowned. "Though I never saw this kind of address before. 'To she that ascends the mountain of the sun, and in the name of the moon—'"
"Moon?" Star tugged the parchment back. "I thought that meant 'by her thigh'. It was used as a mark of respect for a strong leader," she added before Twilight could question the logic.
"Not this time. Moon. See? 'Inyanga'." Twilight held the tip of her hoof over the parchment. "Thigh would be 'inyonga'. Of course I only know it from cross-referencing foreign language texts for analogues of our mythology of Nightmare Moon—"
"That's it!"
Star's exclamation was loud enough that Rainbow Dash jumped back with her wings flared, and even Lyra seemed momentarily perturbed. The pegasus glared at mother and daughter as she settled her wings back into place. "Could you keep it down, guys? We're trying to have a conversation over here."
"You should be used to Twilight making loud noises by now, Dash," Lero murmured, which sent a blush of colour across both Dash and Twilight's faces. Star had to suppress a grin, but raised her eyebrow at the human; he returned her look with an even stare, before looking away to scratch at Rainbow Dash's ear.
"Charming. But never mind that now. I have to get back to Canterlot."
"Now? But you—"
"I know, but this is more important than—well, it can't wait."
Star tucked her parchments away and turned back to the house, ignoring the muted protests of the ponies around her. Let them mutter, it wasn't like they wanted her around anyway, was it? She was almost at the road before she realised another pony had fallen in beside her. It was Twilight.
"I wasn't finished."
"You never are," Star replied, with as broad a smile as she could muster. Strangely, Twilight didn't return the gesture.
"Mom, every time I try and talk to you I either get sarcasm or you just ignore me complete. It's been even worse since I told you about the wedding—"
"Hah!"
Twilight rolled her eyes. "You're hardly proving me wrong."
They reached the door. Twilight hung back as Star pushed it open and stepped inside and made her way through to the living room.
The curtains were half-drawn, giving the place a dismal orange glow that served only to highlight how confining and narrow the room felt. With the ceilings so high and the doors so tall, Star felt as if she were trapped in some foal's nightmare.
"I don't know how you can live in a place like this," she muttered.
"The rooms at home are just as big."
"Just as tall, maybe," Star amended. She dropped her folder on an occasional table before flopping on the couch with a sigh. "Home. I barely even live there anymore. Nearly all my time is spent stuck at the university or on some damn political junket to the arse end of the planet."
Momentarily spent, Star rolled her head back against the couch and sighed.
"Never let yourself be conned into diplomatic work, sweetie," she said quietly. "They make it sound like you'll get to travel the whole world, but you spend all your time in hotels and conference rooms. Still. With these things in my hooves I might be able to change that."
While Twilight frowned at her claim, Star hauled herself upright and found a more comfortable position on the seat. She briefly wondered if this human had made all his furniture himself; it seemed unlikely he could have just bought it.
Twilight finally pulled herself from her thoughts. She stared at the envelope, still frowning. "Was that letter so important?"
"Of course! The mountain of the sun and in the name the moon? It's obviously a letter sent to the diarchy! I've no idea how that witch got hold of it, but—" Star clopped her hooves together and giggled. It was uncharacteristic that Twilight turned to stare at her in shock. She didn't care. "Oh goodness, it was high Duncan! This means the Kuur nation had some form of diplomatic relations with Equestria when it was at its height! We always suspected there was some communication, but we'd assumed the distances involved meant it was fairly sporadic and low level. This could change everything. If only Indy could see this..."
Star hopped from the couch and snatched up the folder again, before trotting to deposit in her bags. She circled the room, taking in the minimal decorations and the ranks of books arrayed around the walls. It was apparent that this human liked to read, and almost as broadly as Twilight if Star was any judge. Subjects as varied as ancient history, pop science and magical theory jostled for place with adventure fiction, biographies and a several well-used cine reels.
As she reached her previous spot on the couch, Star paused and looked across the room at Twilight. "Of course I'll need to speak to Princess Luna." She took a step toward Twilight and smiled. "And I'd like you to help me."
"Help you... talk to Luna?"
"To begin with, yes. If Equestria was in communication with the Kuur at some point, then both princesses probably knows where Great Tswana is, or was, I suppose. Besides, that overbearing tutor of yours is about as likely to help me as she is to quit stuffing her face with overpriced pastries." Star took another step, but faltered when she saw Twilight backing away from her. "If you're worried about my manners, I promise I'll be on my best behaviour."
"I've seen your best behaviour..." Twilight shook her head. Star found herself wondering how much she might have enjoyed whatever incident her daughter had in mind. "I still don't understand why you need me along with you."
"It... it's difficult to explain. Princess Celestia might present something of an obstacle."
Twilight pursed her lips, and Star could almost hear the buzz of energy as the young unicorn's mind went to work. Trust her to inherit Lucent's ability to overthink things. Any minute now she'd finish working her way along some highly unlikely chain of circumstances and blurt out the conclusion as if it were self-evident truth.
"You're afraid," said Twilight. And then she smirked.
The laughter that burst from Star's gut was impossible to hold back, though the way it wiped the humour from Twilight's face meant she probably didn't share the joke. Unable to contain herself, unable to even stand, Star stumbled back to the couch and flopped against its oversized arm.
"Afraid? Of that overgrown, self-righteous buzzard you call a mentor?" Another bout of laughter choked Star. She coughed and held a hoof to her throat, as if that would make any difference. "She might have you cowering under her hoof, child, but not me!"
"So just walk in on her then. Just do what you always do and take what you want without asking." Twilight looked over her shoulder at Star before stalking to a narrow book-case on the far side of the room. She pulled a volume from it and flipped it open seemingly at random.
"I have no idea what—"
The room echoed with a loud crack as Twilight's book snapped shut. She set it back on the shelf and turned to face Star again. "I'm tired of that lie, Star."
The response Star had lined up faded away before she could give it voice. She'd never heard her name in Twilight's voice before, not in the entire time they'd known one another. At least not to her face.
"The last time I was in Canterlot, Luna asked me why you never go along when she invites you and Dad to the palace." Twilight returned her attention to the shelves of books at her side, running her eyes across their thick spines – and for the first time Star realised just how many were bound in rich, dark leather, where even her own library was mostly card or wood, or paper.
"Well... Princess Celestia can be a little touchy when it comes to her sister. I just didn't want to antagonise her."
"I'll believe that the day I grow wings and fly." Twilight paused in examining a particularly old tome and frowned before moving on until, with an outstretched hoof, Star took Twilight's chen and turned gaze away from the shelves. Strangely, Twilight didn't resist. Instead she waited and watched from beneath a lowered brow, and in her eyes Star could see a hint of the predatory gleam the human displayed whenever they were together.
"Understand me, Twilight. You're my daughter. My own flesh and blood. I know you are as driven as I am to uncover the truth of things. You might dig in books and I might dig in far away lands but we both dig, we both search." Star pulled Twilight closer, until their snouts were almost touching. "I want you to help me search for a change. This is an opportunity for you and I to finally come together over something, to finally have something in common! Imagine it, Twilight. We could find this city together, we could finally uncover one of the greatest mysteries of of history. Together! But to do that I need to convince Celestia to let me talk to Luna about it, and if you're there with me, if the pony that saved her life is there, she'll be more inclined—"
"Stop!" Twilight's jaw tightened and she turned away with a loud snort. "I'm not interested."
"But Twilie—"
"I said no! You've had years to talk me about this life of yours, Star! Years! You're only doing it now because you think I'll give you an advantage getting whatever it is you want from Luna!"
"That's not true! I—" Again she was cut off, this time by another frustrated snort and the loud stomp of Twilight's hoof. The young unicorn clattered away to the far side of the room and tugged Star's bags from the floor with her magic. "Sweetie, at least let me explain."
"Get out." Twilight held Star's bags aloft, not caring how her rough magic battered their contents.
"Twilight—"
"Out!"
Before the echo of Twilight's shrill cry had even died down, Star felt the greasy tingle of Twilight's magic around her body as she was pulled toward the door. Her bags were dumped across her back and the strap cinched painfully tight around her waist. Twilight glared at Star, one eye twitching ever so slightly, and flung open the door.
"Just like that?" Star sighed and shook her head. She stepped out of the door. "Well don't let me catch you saying I didn't try."
Twilight's answer was little more than an incoherent grunt as she slammed the door against Star's rump. The lock clicked a moment later, followed immediately by a pale reddish glow enveloped the lock, door and a large section of the front of the house, as if that would somehow keep Star from returning. The symbolism was enough.
The others had left the park, perhaps to explore some other part of town, though Star had no idea what they'd be exploring in such a twee little place. Maybe a giant apple, or some carefully collected exhibition of cutlery. Their absence made her final decision a little easier, at least.
At the end of the road she paused and looked back, half expecting Twilight to have barrelled out of the house after her, or that Lucent might have rounded the corner to watch her leave again. It was a vain hope of course; no matter how she might have been raised and whatever influences might have grown about her, Twilight was still her mother's daughter at heart.
"Stubborn as a mule," Star murmured. She smiled a lopsided smile and shook her head as she resumed her lonely journey.
6. Through the tangle and the bramble, through the winding paths of time
In the warmth of the late summer sun that streamed through the grand windows overlooking the University quad, Star Sparkle looked around her new office and shook her head at the unreality of it all. Her office. It was the outward sign of everything her career had built toward these last years, though for a lot of that time she hadn't even known it.
Could it be hers? It still smelled of Indy – more accurately of the foul tobacco pipe she'd taken to smoking in the last few years of her tenure. The desk Indy had used for as long as Star had known her still stood close to the back wall, along with its high-backed chair, but Indy's well-stocked drinks cabinet was gone, as were the filing cabinets and the stout safe that had held most of her papers. Those would have to be replaced, Star thought. And a new table, somewhere away from the desk, so she could eat without making a mess of her work.
The view beyond the windows, with its two cherry trees standing passive and full-headed and silent in the quad, caught Star's eye. She could still remember the first time she'd ever seen those trees from this vantage. Even after so long, they didn't look all that different.
The Sundancer building behind them, however, had been renovated some time in the last few years. Its old, stained brick and concrete shell had been extended with a pointless glass atrium while the rest was covered over with shiny green crystal slabs that caught the light in odd ways, serving only to highlight how decrepit the place was.
Her own building – her building – had no such pretensions. From the solid, grey granite exterior, to the echoing hallways and the grandly scaled office in which she now stood, it was the same as the day she had first laid eyes on it. The same as when Celestia herself had laid the first foundation stone nearly half a millennium before. As she looked over all its space and splendour, pausing only briefly to eye the familiar little bunk over the kitchenette, Star was forced to admit that, on the whole, things could have been a lot worse.
She was nosing thoughtfully at one of several large boxes stacked in the corner, and filled with everything from her old office, when the door crashed open and a young colt trotted through. A box floated across his slender white shoulders, and a filly marched smartly at his heel, while giving a constant running commentary of their progress to a stuffed toy perched upon her back.
With a sharp twitch of her head, Star turned from the box to face her son and daughter. Shining smiled; Twilight fell silent and glared.
"Is that the last of them?"
Shining Armour nodded before depositing the box with the others, beneath the window and well away from stray hooves. For a moment he hovered around the boxes, nosing uncertainly at them and frowning, before returning to his sister's side. For the entire time, Twilight hadn't taken her eyes from Star.
"When did Velvet say she'd be back for you?"
"Around lunch," replied Shining. He moved toward the couch, but when Twilight didn't move with him he stopped again. "I guess she's showing her new book to a lot of people."
"Good for her..."
There didn't seem much else to say, so Star returned her attention to the piles of books on Indy's—her desk. The thought twisted her face into a grimace as she considered just what that meant. Another grimace pushed the thought back down where it belonged. Star picked up a selection of books, turned to the shelf and immediately tripped over Twilight.
Books clattered to the floor, accompanied by Star's yell and Twilight's terrified screech. The little filly tumbled back on her haunches and screeched again as one of the books, which had landed on its end, fell over on her outstretched hind leg.
"Twilight—" Star shook her head and stepped back from the squalling filly. "Shining, please take care of your sister, I have work to do!"
At first Shining Armour didn't move. His eyes were locked on Star, and a glow of magic flickered around his horn, dancing fitfully around the tip like St. Elmo's fire. Then the spell winked out, and Shining darted forward to scoop Twilight up in his forelegs and onto his back. The stuffed toy followed a moment later, accompanied by a little notebook and what looked like a tiny quill.
Books were still scattered about Star's hooves. She lifted the half of the collection with a single spell and shuffled the books into a neat pile, before setting it on the desk at her side. As her magic sought out the rest, she turned to watch her children settling on the couch. Twilight, nestled in a corner of the couch, had fallen into a sullen sort of peace under Shining's gentle ministrations, though she still watched Star intently whenever her brother wasn't in the way.
"I thought you wanted us here," said Shining. He seated himself on the floor with his back to Star, choosing to speak to her over his shoulder instead.
"You—look, Shining, I appreciate the help, I do, but unless you can keep helping now, the best thing to do is stay out of my way. I only have a few days to get myself settled in to this place. It—"
A sharp jolt against Star's magic cut her off. She looked down for the source and found a book trying to edge out of its pile. When she looked up she could see the faint aura twisting around Twilight's horn, accompanied by an expression of absolute concentration that only a child could truly achieve.
"Twilight, what are you doing?"
"Getting a book," the filly sniffed. Shining Armour snickered and looked away for a moment until he had composed himself.
"Twilight, those are your mother's very special, important books. Don't do that." Star watched the book jerk an inch from the pile, and then another, until she slammed her hoof down on it. "Stop it!"
"But Miss Smartypants wants to read!"
"Who?"
Twilight silently held up her stuffed toy. The little doll's limbs flailed at Star and as it came to a rest, its head flopped back, leaving its little button eyes staring straight at her. Ignoring Shining's suppressed giggles, Star shuddered and looked away.
"Gods... here!" She pulled a reference catalogue from the desk and tossed it to Shining. He caught the book in a near-perfectly smooth bubble of magic. "Look at the pictures or something."
Shining peeled open the catalogue and leafed through it for a few pages, before shaking his head. "Wouldn't she be better off with a real book?"
"That's real enough for a pony her age."
"No, no at home she was reading something like..." Shining dropped the catalogue back on the desk, only for it to be tugged toward the curious filly in a sputtering aura. He watched its juddering progress for a moment before turning to the shelves, half-stocked with Star's library and already creaking under the weight of so many books. After a short moment of searching, his hoof came to rest on a book, which he quickly pulled free and held up for Star's benefit. "This! This exact book. Dad's been complaining that his copy keeps going missing."
"The wars of the earth pony republics..." Star snatched the book away before Shining could respond. She clutched it close to her chest. "She's trying to read Apibus? She's only seven!"
"She's read half the book already, mother." Shining stepped forward and touched his hoof to the thick card cover of the book, at the same time giving Star that smile she'd never been able to resist.
"Shiney..."
"It'll keep her quiet. I promise."
Star's back sway briefly. "Fine. But it's your allowance on the line if she destroys it. That was a gift from your father."
"She won't."
"It's probably priceless."
"She won't."
With a reluctant sigh, Star released her grip on the book, and watched as it floated away to what would surely be its destruction. Twilight immediately dropped her attention from the catalogue as her eyes fixed on the newcomer, and in a literal flash she had the book grasped between her forelegs. The book's spine creaked. Twilight's eyes widened as she peered at the text and a smile creased her lips. The same smile briefly flashed at Star before the filly turned her full attention to the book, and in moments she had scooted to her corner of the couch and settled on her back, with her legs lifted in the air as a makeshift reading stand and Smarty Pants balanced precariously on her belly, its little button eyes staring sightlessly at the book.
"Well how about that," murmured Star. She watched for a while as Twilight slowly worked her way down the page, occasionally pausing to chastise her doll for not understanding a particular sentence, but when the youngster called out to Shining for help with a word Star decided enough was enough, and turned back to her work.
If she could call it work, that was. It felt more like a burial. Star pawed at the books and paperwork on the desk before her and grunted as she tried to remember what she had been doing. Recollection came to Star just moments before a loud knock at the door interrupted her thoughts again.
"Whoever it is you better have a damn good reason for interrupting me," she snarled as she swung her head toward the door. After a pause the door swung open, giving Star a good look at the pegasus on the far side.
"Aunty Indy!" Shining Armour cried, briefly shocking Twilight from her reading. The young filly gave the newcomer a brief glance, then returned to her book.
Star pursed her lips. "Path? What are you doing here?"
"House-warming party," said Independent Path as she stepped through the door, whilst resolutely ignoring Star's perplexed stare. "And also finding out why you made my old secretary cry and quit his job in a single day."
"He wouldn't let me—that's not important!" Star Snorted. "I thought you were on your way to Nephelippion to lounge about on sunlit clouds and pretend to write your memoir."
"What, can't an old mare visit a friend once in a while?"
"After that row you had with the Vice-Chancellor I'm surprised you'd come anywhere near Canterlot, never mind the University," said Star.
"Like I said, just passing through." Indy trotted across to the couch, smiling at the two youngsters as she reached them. "Nice to see you again, Shining Armour. How's school?"
Shining bounced to his hooves at the attention. He grinned. "I'm joining the junior cadets!"
"Really? Splendid! You'll make a fine royal guard one day. I'm sure your mother must be very proud."
"First I've heard of it," Star muttered, which amused Indy greatly if her responding chuckle was any indication.
"You can hardly blame the lad, Star," she said, before turning her attention to Twilight. Indy leaned forward to peer at the young filly's book. With a surprised snort she turned to look at Star. "You've got her reading Apibus?"
"She's got herself reading it." Star turned back to Indy's—her desk – but soon found herself poking ineffectually at the piles of books and papers upon it. "Frankly she spends far too much of her time with her nose buried in books for my tastes."
"It didn't seem to do you any harm," Indy replied, laughing. She turned from the Shining and Twilight and stepped over to Star's side. Star felt a nudge in her ribs. "I remember your first year here, you spent all your spare time behind a pile of old books at the back of the library. The number of times I caught you sleeping between the stacks... There were days when I wondered if you would ever leave that library alive."
Indy fell silent, save for the quiet clump of her hooves across the floor. When Star looked back around she found her mentor had wandered to the far wall and was staring at the blank spaces and smoky outlines left behind when her photographs had been taken away.
She lifted her hoof to one space in particular and smiled.
"And then on your third year, the very day you returned to the University, you came and begged me to take you on that expedition. Remember that? You'd not shown even the slightest inclination to anything more adventurous than sneaking coffee into the restricted wing before, and yet suddenly you wanted to be off to the east and the great plains of the zebra. I always wondered if you'd stumbled across something in those books of yours."
Indy looked across her back at Star, smiling just slightly, as if waiting for some sort of response. All Star could do was shrug and and shake her tail.
"I just wanted to get away—get out into the world. Experience something different." She shrugged again, as if it would shift the burden of Indy's attention from her withers."Try new things before I... no. My interest in the Kuur came later."
"Different days."
Indy wandered back to the couch. It creaked as she settled down on it, gently, lest she disturb Twilight. The filly didn't seem aware of Indy at all, however, so engrossed was she in reading aloud to her stuffed toy.
"You know they wanted a copy of that particular photograph to put in the University museum? They had the little hagiography all written up as well. You and me out on the veldt, the eager young student learning all she would know from the wise old master." Indy snorted. "As if you learned anything at all that month."
"I don't know, I picked up a few things. Nothing I'd want in a museum..." Star smiled despite herself as she thought back to that first trip. "They really want to put you up in the Whistler Wing?"
"Not any more," Indy said with a sigh. She paused a moment and glanced at Shining Armour. "Shining, why don't you take your sister out to the refectory for a few minutes? There's a vending machine—" she tossed a small bag of bits to the surprised colt and winked at him. "Your mother and I have a few things to talk about."
"You're not going to yell at her until she leaves the country again, are you?"
"Shining Armour that was not—" Star turned as she spoke to find Shining grinning at her like he'd just figured out every joke known to pony kind. And those eyes... Somehow he had discovered that he could melt her heart with just a well-timed flick of his eyebrows. She was sure he got it from Lucent. "You cheeky boy. Get out of here."
Still grinning, Shining scooped Twilight, her book and her toy up on his back and double-timed toward the door, dancing through it with a barely intelligible "see you!" before trotting away down the hall.
"And take care of that book as well!"
The door slammed shut before she could hear Shining's answer, but Star knew what that answer would have been. She shook her head and turned from the door to examine Indy. The old mare was watching her, eyes narrow and—and tired. Her whole face was tired, and her coat silvered and worn thin by age.
And yet for all that...
"I see he's gone from plain biting to biting wit," Indy said, keeping her voice low, as if anyone could hear them through the thick walls. She took a long breath, and then another. "They grow up so fast, don't they?"
Star snorted. "Not fast enough."
"That's the one thing I never understood about you, Star." Indy smiled briefly, but then looked away to the window.
"You never understood me wanting my foals grown up?"
Indy shook her head. "Wanting foals at all. I left all of that breeding stuff to my sister over in Aganippolis, figured I'd rather focus on my career than have a bunch of little terrors hanging off my hind-quarters for half my life. I was never much of the motherly type."
"You and me both."
"And yet..." Indy waved her good wing toward the door.
"I didn't want foals, Indy. You know that by now." Star wandered around the desk, picking at her papers until they were back in some sort of more satisfying order. When she reached the chair she hesitated, but after a moment's thought let herself settle into it anyway. "Everypony probably knows that by now."
"Perhaps," Indy said before falling silent. When Star looked up at her, the old grey pegasus was smiling, though there was something of a melancholy behind it. Something about the way her eyes seemed to look right through Star. "How's the chair?"
"Comfortable. But there's this warm patch—"
"I had it reupholstered, before you get any naughty ideas," Indy said. "Seemed symbolic as well, doing that. Out with the stale old stains of age and wisdom, in with the fresh new scent of progress and youth. Well..." Indy eyed Star carefully. "Relative youth."
"I didn't want this, Path."
Indy laughed and shook her head. "Star, if you really didn't want this you wouldn't even be in the building, never mind shuffling your hind-quarters around my chair so vigorously. Boarundi alone proved you can't take no for an answer. Still, if you're having second thoughts—"
"I don't have time for second thoughts."
"No room for regret, hm?" Indy laughed again, leaning her head back on the couch as she did. "Oh the old clichés are certainly the best."
"You'd know," Star muttered, though she couldn't help smiling even so.
Again the silence fell, laid heavy with memory across the space between the two. Glancing at the desk, Star noticed that her shuffling and sorting had knocked over a picture frame, one she had placed there earlier. She flipped it upright and stared at the photograph. Two mares looked back at her, one in graduation gown and cap, the other wearing nothing save for a pendant and a cheeky hat. Both were grinning fit to burst. Star's hoof-tip stroked gently across the face of her younger self, and then touched at Twilight Velvet's snout. She looked away and closed her eyes.
"Okay Indy, kick it out. Why are you really here?"
"I'm not entirely certain," said Indy, "but I believe it's to have an argument with you."
Star's ears perked forward. She looked across at Indy and frowned. "Oh? If it's about that book I borrowed—"
Indy shook her head. "Ingozi."
"Ah. You heard." Star tapped her hooves together and leaned back in her chair. After a moment, Indy nodded once. "I suppose I should have realised it would get around sooner or later."
Another nod, this time accompanied by a slight flaring of Indy's wings. She was upset. The worst part is, Star couldn't quite work out why she was upset. As she pondered the possibilities, Star pressed her hooves together before her snout and narrowed her eyes.
"I suppose you're going to tell me I can't go," she said quietly.
Indy pursed her lips and nodded. "That's the gist of it," she murmured, before hopping from the couch with unexpected grace and trotting to the window.
"It's the last watering hole before the tribe turn toward the mountains. If I don't catch them there... it'd be another two years, Indy. A lot changes in two years."
As Indy yanked back the shutter, a cool breath of air quickly filled the office with the scent of cut grass, accompanied by the grumble and yelp of dozens of ponies making their way back and forth across the quad below. For just a moment, Star saw Indy lean into the breeze from the window she had pushed wide and close her eyes, while her wings flexed against her flanks.
"You knew I'd go before, didn't you," said Star. She turned her chair a quarter circle and frowned when she heard a slight squeak from somewhere beneath the seat. The sound seemed to pull Indy from her quiet reverie.
"To Boarundi? I suspected you would, but I also thought you might try and come to some sort of compromise and ask to join the expedition after you'd weaned. Evidently I underestimated your—"
"Persistence?"
"I was going to say bull-headed stubbornness." Indy turned her back to the window and wandered toward the couch again. "And your lack of responsibility."
"And now I suppose you're going to tell me that I have a responsibility to the University instead? You told me this wouldn't be a cage, Indy, but you're already pointing out the bars."
"I'm pointing out that there is a price for your position," Indy said.
"A position I didn't want, if you recall," Star shot back. "I wouldn't be here if you hadn't penned me into it. I'd rather be out there living on tack and plantain than stuck in this bloody office playing with budgets and harassing students!"
"Don't be silly, Star, you've always wanted to abuse the student body."
Indy grinned; Star just snorted her reply and looked away, but Indy didn't seem too concerned that she was being ignored.
"Funny," Star muttered.
"I admit, I did nibble a few ankles to get you this position, but that was because you are the only pony I could trust to keep this place together after I was gone." Indy waved a hoof toward the door, before pointing it at Star. "When I took up my chair, this department was a fraction of the size of Cavelbridge and essentially useless. When I left, Archaeology had become the largest unitary department in the University after Arcane Studies. I'd like it to stay that way."
"So? I'm not interested in preserving some legacy, Indy. I acquiesced to this because I had no alternative if I wanted to keep on doing what I enjoy." Star's ears folded against her head at the same time as she folded her forelegs across her chest. "This was nothing but a simple choice made to advance my career."
"There's gratitude for you. I worked hard to get you this position—"
"Which I didn't want," Star repeated.
"All I'm asking is that you take the time to come to grips with the place first. You need to establish yourself with the faculty and the department. Let they know they're harnessed to the right pony."
Star's hoof cut across the air in front of her. "I've had it with ponies telling me what to do now. I have tenure. If I want to go on a six month trip to Assbuckistan or Ponylasia or Tartarus itself I can just up and go, and to hell with what the faculty thinks."
"Without funding?"
Star blinked. The question had been accompanied by one of Indy's enigmatic little smiles, which meant she was about to launch into one of her lectures. Cursing the inevitability of it all, Star turned her full attention to her mentor.
"What do you mean without funding?"
"Exactly what I said, Star. These expeditions of yours cost a lot of money."
"Indy, half the department's budget is discretionary for that exact reason. I know you dipped into it a few times, like that—" Star raised her hoof to the wall, momentarily forgetting that all the photographs were gone. "Well. I was going to point at that group you sent to mooch around Trotiers for three weeks last year. If you could find the funds for a bunch of postgrads to travel the old world and get drunk, then I won't have a problem funding an expedition that does some real work."
"Believe it or not, Star, they were doing real work."
"Path, they were archaeologists at a conference on hippological ethics. How in heaven's name could that assist the department in any way?"
Star snorted and glared at Indy, but the mare only raised her eyebrow. Slowly, Indy lowered herself to the couch, facing Star head-on. She rubbed her snout and looked around the room.
"Do you remember old Straw?"
Frowning at the change of topic, Star nodded slowly. "Professor Shortcake? She was chair of the old Hippology department before it was split..."
Star's voice faded. She frowned and tapped her chin, struggling to ignore the cold spot that had formed behind her chest as she tried to work out where Indy was taking the conversation.
"Split up and merged into other departments," Indy finished, with a shrug. "It got me Doctor Roola as Reader of Hippological Studies, and it got Strawberry Shortcake on a fast-track to retirement. That conference you were so quick to disparage was part of my effort to establish links with the hippology departments of other universities so that we wouldn't start falling behind."
Once again Indy hopped from the couch and strolled to the window. "You see, the University wanted to promote cooperation between Hippology and Ancient History. It makes sense, given how often they examine the same things from different angles. Straw saw that as a threat to her budget, not to mention her personal influence over the field, and so she fought it." Indy glanced over her shoulder at Star. "And she lost. When they were finished she still had her seat on the faculty, but she didn't have a budget and she didn't lecture or research. Her entire department was a six by six office on the north-east corner of Sundancer, with nothing else to show for it than a plaque on the wall and a spot on the department roster. After a year her wages were cut because they were no longer commensurate to her role, as I think the Bursar put it, and eventually she retired."
"What's your point?"
"I should think that's obvious," said Indy. She turned her back on the window. "Pick your battles is the most superficial way to put it. Don't overestimate your power would be better. Straw's mistake was thinking that she had the high ground because she had tenure."
Indy lowered her head and walked toward the desk. She paused awkwardly at the spot where her drinks cabinet would have been, then turned away, shaking her head.
Star's ear flicked. "Not a cage, you said."
"Think of it as a more of a..." Indy's ears perked up. "Preparation for an expedition. Lots of hard work, lots of negotiation. Arranging your support before you set out is half the job by itself. It's all part of the great game."
"Their game."
"Their game," Indy echoed. She sat down on the floor and slumped against the desk, not seeming to care that he had knocked over several of Star's neat paper piles. "But if you want to carry on chasing your theories around the world, you need their money, and that only comes to you through the department budget."
"I have money," Star muttered. She slammed her hoof on the desk, shaving another pile of papers free. "Dammit, I'm herded to one of the richest families in Canterlot!"
"Land rich," Indy countered with a casual wave of her hoof. "But lets say you do find the money to fund an expedition. What will you do about logistical support? Who will brush coats back home to smooth over any unexpected bumps and keep that support flowing when you're stuck out in the middle of nowhere? Like it or not you need some sort of infrastructure back here in order to support you out there."
"If you expect me to kowtow to that bunch of useless cretins—"
"Did I say that?"
Star paused, one hoof raised awkwardly, while the reflexive answer died on her lips. She'd seen Indy wear that frustratingly knowing smile before. Reluctantly, Star lowered her hoof.
"You said play their game."
"That I did," said Indy.
"Then what's the point of all this? Either I quit now and lose it all, or I bite buttocks for the rest of my career and hope they lift tail long enough to let me go to Prance for the week." Star snorted. "That isn't a game I want to play, Indy."
"It's the price we pay for this life of ours, Star," Indy said. She smiled, oblivious to the chill that ran down Star's spine at those words. Indy stood, shaking the desk as she propped herself against it for balance. Her wings flailed briefly at the air , but then she was standing free. "I should be going. I have an airship to Aganippolis to catch in an hour and I don't want to be left standing on the dock again."
"But you just got here!"
"Sorry, Star. I have to go, or that sister of mine will have my other wing. I did tell you I was passing through." Indy frowned and tapped her chin. "You know it's odd, but now the topic has come up, I was certain your sister enrolled at the University the same year you did. What was her name again? Twinkle something?"
"Amaranth Sparkle," Star murmured. Her eyes fell to the desk and she briefly wondered what had happened to the photograph of her family she had brought with her. "She enrolled two years before me, through Celestia's School."
"Strange," Indy said quietly. She was smiling when Star looked at her. "Oh I'm getting it all mixed up, I suppose. It has been a long, long time since you were just one of the girls."
"It has," Star replied, nodding slowly.
"Well, time to leave." Indy turned from the desk. "I'll see you around, Star."
Indy shrugged her wings and trotted toward the door. Star watched her leave, trying to ignore the churning in her gut, but it was too much. She leaped from her seat and across her desk, landing on the far side with a loud crash of hooves. She trotted toward Indy, who turned at the sound and stood, smiling, to wait for her.
At first they just stared at one another, until Indy reached out to touch Star's shoulder.
"Visit me some time," Indy whispered. Star nodded and closed her eyes until she felt the cool of a breeze on her side, and heard the door close a moment later.
She ignored the emptiness and silence as she made her way back to the desk. Her chair invited her with its wide-stretched arms; Star flopped down into the thick padded seat and leaned as far back as it would allow, and then stared at the ceiling. After some thought, she pulled her body back toward the desk, to glare at its disordered contents. She leaned forward with her hooves splaying across the desk until her snout reached the blotter, and then she let out a long, slow breath.
* * *
As Star marched into the brightly lit Great Hall of the Clover Building, she found herself looking across the milling crowd of the great and good, the supposedly most intelligent and most refined of her species, and wondering if perhaps she should have just bucked it all from her back and simply retired when she had the chance. Perhaps she could leave and not tell anyone. Just disappear into the east. To Tartarus with duty and honour and legacy.
But no. It would break Lucent's heart if she left again, and she still had a few things to do first. There was always something else to do. It wasn't an option she decided, for perhaps the hundredth time that day.
Fortunately the ponies around her paid little attention to her scowl as she entered the hall. One more mare in swirling robes and a silly hat was neither here nor there to most, who seemed more interested in the lavish buffet and the drinks freely dispensed by the servers – all young and male, she noted, and likely students looking for a little extra credit.
The entire hall was filled with a never-ending sibilance as every pony present tried to make herself heard whilst vainly attempting to maintain the quiet atmosphere. The resulting hiss put Star in mind of the unceasing rain that flowed across jungles of Bokswana. She paused a moment to listen, letting her ears turn out the words and bask in the memory, until a voice called out across the noise, putting her in mind of a hooting ape lurking in some distant, gloomy canopy.
The Dean of Colleges rolled up as Star's attention returned to the present, a broad grin plastered across a face that was already glowing a faint pink beneath her white-frosted orange coat.
Star shook her head as she tried to focus on the Dean's words. "What?"
"I said good of you to turn up at last, Sparkle! I was starting to worry you'd forgotten!"
"As if I would forget something like this, Dean Quartz," Star grumbled, whilst tugging at the collar of her robe. "Why do they insist on making these things so itchy?"
The Dean laughed, at the same time snatching a pair of drinks from a passing tray. She pressed one toward Star and laughed again as Star's magic reluctantly tugged the drink from her hoof.
"It'd be a shame," Dean Quartz replied, lowering voice, if not her annoying presence. "Having the, ahaha, star of the show miss her own officiation? Too droll."
Star rolled her eyes at the bad pun and looked around the room. "A shame," she echoed.
"Still, good that you're here at last," Quartz continued, oblivious to Star's ire. "There's a pony I wanted you to meet before we begin."
She nodded toward the far side of the room, setting her shimmering mane abob. Star often wondered if Quartz added all the sparkles or if it was some sort of hereditary thing.
Before the thought could sink too deep into her mind, Star found herself thrust before a mare in a richly tailored pastel suit. She was even wearing trousers, which was unusual enough that Star found herself staring at where the mare's mark would have been. She was only able to look away when Quartz loudly cleared her throat.
"Excuse me," Star muttered.
"I see your reputation precedes you, Professor Sparkle," the mare said. She smiled, but there was little humour in her piercing golden eyes.
"I have a reputation?"
Dean Quartz laughed nervously and held up her free hoof across Star's front. "Nothing that you haven't heard already, Star, I'm sure. This is Lady Long, Permanent Under-Secretary for the Ministry of Foreign Relations."
"Delighted," said Lady Long, holding out a hoof. After a moment's hesitation, Star took it and gently kissed the tip. "How charming. From the way Orange Quartz spoke of you, I had expected at least one attempt at verbal abuse by now."
Star cast a glance at the Dean. "I can supply it if you'd prefer. We wouldn't want to disappoint our guests, would we, Quartz?"
"Now now, Star, let's not be—" The Dean coughed and turned to seize another drink from a passing tray, and Star took the opportunity to dispose of her own. How the University vintners had the audacity to call it wine, she would never know. "Let's not be too forward, yes? Why don't you tell Lady Long about this planned trip of yours? I'm sure the Foreign Office would be extremely interested in how long you plan to be away."
"Oh, that?"
Star paused and examined Quartz again. Something about her stance seemed off. There was an eagerness to her that just didn't fit the conversation. Long was watching Star now, frowning just a little while the silence stretched on.
The room seemed to fall silent. Star pursed her lips and nodded slowly. "Sorry to disappoint, Quartz, but I'm calling it off."
Dean Quartz paused in supping her drink and swallowed a large mouthful. She lowered her glass and stared at Star. "You are? But you were going to be gone for months! The faculty—"
Quartz's jaw snapped closed, like a badly maintained trap. She took another drag at her drink and quickly looked away, leaving Secretary Long to fill the silence.
"Forgive me for asking, Professor Sparkle, but what exactly prompted this change of heart? I had understood that your efforts to gain all the relevant travel permits were well in train. In fact my own heads of department tell me you were burning through favours at Martingale House like nobody's business."
"Don't remind me," Star grumbled. "I've probably blown any chance of decent support for the next few years. I'll be lucky if I can get a permit to visit Los Pegasus."
Despite being quiet, Long's laughter managed to cut through the background noise. Her smile remained as it died away. "You have to admit," she said, "it seems rather an abrupt move. What did you hope to achieve by it?"
Star glanced at Orange Quartz. The Dean had apparently decided to seek out another drink, and was currently haranguing one of the servers about his empty tray. Satisfied that her alleged superior was occupied, Star guided Lady Long a little distance away until the crowd had drawn around them.
Once sure they were out of sight of the Dean, Star leaned close to Lady Long and looked into her eyes.
"I don't want to be caged," she said.
Long's eyebrows rose a fraction. She looked from side to side, then back to Star with a bemused expression. "Caged."
With what she hoped wasn't a too theatrical sigh, Star reached out and plucked a drink from another passing tray. She took a sip, grimaced and shook her head.
"I'm an archaeologist. I'm at my best when I'm neck deep in a pit, scratching for bits of bone and pottery and trying to piece together some sort of story around them. I took this position because it offered me the chance to do that, but I can't do it if I have the University and Quartz over there breathing down my neck whenever I apply to go abroad." She paused, taking in Long's still-sceptical gaze, and took another drink. "You knew my predecessor, yes? Independent Path?"
"Oh, the unfortunate pegasus?" Long nodded. Her ears twitched briefly. "I was still a Deputy Director in Far-Eastern Affairs when she had the accident, poor thing. What about her?"
"The last few times I spoke to her, she tried to explain that the University has a habit of interfering with the activities of its departments if those departments aren't marching in step. They want the results of free research, but they want to be in control of everything. You can probably imagine the sort of pressure that can put on a pony."
"I can," Long replied. She looked around again. Star followed her gaze, pausing when she spotted Quartz in the distance. The Dean seemed to have completely lost track of where they were, and was currently trapped by the buffet, frantically peering around the room whilst trying to disengage herself from a conversation with another member of the faculty.
"In my case the majority of the department's research activity often requires travel to places that are rather off the beaten track. The formal arrangements for permits and diplomatic coverage are all handled through the University, and that gives them a pretty effective yoke if they think a pony is pulling off-kilter. If they don't like what Archaeology's doing, they can just take away our means to continue. I want to change that."
Now it was Long's turn to reach for a drink. She ambushed a passing server, though rather than choosing wine as Star had, she opted for a simple glass of water. On her return, Long sipped at her water once before leaving it to float in a faint green aura at the side of her head.
"We can't just pass out travel permits and technical support to anypony who asks, Professor Sparkle," she said. "If you're proposing a more direct relationship between your department and the Ministry..."
Star shook her head. "I want leverage, not favours, and I want the faculty to understand that it's in their best interests to take a more passive role in handling my department's funding requirements."
Long narrowed her eyes and sipped at her drink. She nodded. "Believe it or not, we may be able to accommodate that. You've done a fair amount of travelling, haven't you?"
"You could say that."
"Let me put this to you," Long said. "I am aware that you managed to successfully negotiate your way through the courts of a dozen kings, queens and rulers of various stripes in pursuit of your goals. You seem to have a particular ability to convince other beings to see things in a way that benefits you. Were the circumstances a little different, I'd argue that you wouldn't need the Foreign Office at all."
Star raised her eyes to the heavens and shook her head. "If only I could believe that."
Long paused a moment to study her drink, before taking another sip. She watched Star the whole while, never quite relaxing her gaze.
"Your reputation extends to more than just rude manners and a certain generosity of affection, Professor. There are parts of the world that we have only been able to normalise relationships with following your efforts to gain access. In my profession that sort of achievement carries a great deal of weight."
Again Long paused, to run a hoof around the lip of her glass. The thin wall of the glass rang beneath her hooves – silver-shod, an extravagance usually only sought by the extremely wealthy, either for show or to guard against rogue magic – and the water within the glass shook and waved gently at the sound.
"I propose an exchange," she finally said. "The Minister and myself shall have a few quiet words with your Archchancellor in order to clarify our expectation of the relationship between the University, the Ministry and the position your department might find within that matrix. In return..." Long looked up and smiled the same, humourless smile that had begun their conversation. "Your expertise shall be sought by the Ministry from time to time. Frankly, some of our officers could use a few months scratting around in the dirt."
"As long as I can continue my research."
"Oh you'll be visiting all sorts of interesting places, I assure you, Professor." Long held out her hoof. "Shall I consider this matter settled?"
Star stared at it for a moment, weighing her options. Then out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dean Quartz hustling through the crowd toward them, her face puffy and red from exertion and a few other more personal issues. Star waited until Quartz was in earshot before tapping her hoof against Long's. The sparkling tinkle of struck silver seemed to ring on even as Long returned her hoof to the floor.
"We can discuss the particulars at a later date," Long said, with a more open smile. She turned briefly to Dean Quartz and inclined her head. "Good to see you again, Orange."
Long's tail whipped through the air as she turned smartly to march away, and she was soon lost amongst the herd. Ponies all around were hustling toward their seats now, moving at some unspoken signal to prepare for the event, leaving Star and Orange Quartz momentarily isolated amongst a sea of pressing bodies.
"Star, what was all that about?"
"Just discussing trips abroad, like you wanted," Star said. She couldn't help but grin. "I was thinking, you know, I might visit Los Pegasus later this year. I think there's some sort of conference on foreign relations going on later in the summer. Do you think the University could stretch to that?"
"What—"
"Can't talk now, Quartz," Star said, ignoring the Dean's bewildered expression. "I have a position to accept!"
A voice rang out from the stage at the far end of the room; the Vice Chancellor was speaking, welcoming the visitors and wittering on about the achievements of the University. Leaving Quartz spluttering and confused, Star made her way across the flow of the crowd and mounted the stage at the front of the room, arriving just as the Vice Chancellor completed her speech.
The crowd rose in polite applause at Star's name. For some reason she felt she should be basking in it. The night had already given her everything she had wanted. Yet behind that, she felt the first inklings of what she had committed herself to. Star pushed back at the yawning sense of emptiness that came with the realisation, and trotted to the podium.
The crowd fell silent as Star looked out over them. Lucent was there, of course, right on the head table, watching her with those great big eyes of his. He'd been in the room longer than Star, working his usual magic amongst the great and good of Canterlot society; she'd made sure to keep him carefully out of her way, lest she was tempted drag him behind the stage to do something inappropriate.
"Thank you, Vice Chancellor." Star paused to clear her throat, ignoring the empty seats to Lucent's left. None of the rest of her herd had attended, aside from Crincile. Oh they had their reasons, but it was strange how sharply their absence cut.
She forced a smile to her face and began to speak.
"As I am sure most of you are aware, I am not particularly one for cleaving to tradition." A smattering of laughter echoed around the room. Star couldn't help but grin in response. "With that in mind, before I give my acceptance of the position so graciously bestowed upon me by this university I would like to begin with a toast, one made to all of you, and every pony I have known throughout my career."
Star paused as a quick-thinking server scampered up to the stage with a glass of wine. She even managed to thank him; he smiled just a little before returning to the crowd below.
"Truly I could not have climbed to where I am without the dozens of my colleagues who carried me here. Thanks to you, I find myself amongst the collected relics of thousands of years of history. From here I can see the entire world, and all of its beauty and splendour, just as my predecessor saw it every single day of her tenure to this ancient institution. I cannot express the strength of my feelings toward the faculty of this university, nor to the individuals who propelled me to this great and gilded height, and I can only conclude by reminding you all that each and every pony present tonight is responsible in some small way for the position I now occupy."
Her smile had faded as she reached for the glass. Star raised the cup aloft, and waited for the host of ponies before her to join the gesture.
"To each of you," she said, once silence had fallen again. "And to the future I must now face."
Star knew the contents of her office intimately. Every knick-knack, every artefact, every photograph and poster and certificate and book was carefully placed, and its placement carefully stored in the folds of her mind. If something moved more than a fraction, she knew. If something was interfered with, she knew. And if something was missing, she definitely knew.
There was something missing, and it left her with only a single, very important question.
"How in the name of Celestia did they get into my drinks cabinet?"
Star turned to Penny Candy, the poor, put-upon colt of a secretary who had somehow stuck with her despite her best efforts, but all he could offer was a narrow shrug and a toss of his head.
"There's no possible way they could have unlocked it," she persisted, in the face of all evidence to the contrary. "The lock is warded against picks and magic. I have the only key."
"They could have teleported it in," Penny offered. Then he shrugged again.
"The only people precise enough to do that work over in Arcane Sciences..." Star tapped her chin. "I won't stand for it."
"Professor, it might be wise not to raise too much—"
Star flourished a slender glass bottle from the cabinet as she turned to her secretary. "They replaced it all with water, Candy! Water! What the name of Celestia am I supposed to do with that?"
With a loud crunch Star slammed the bottle down on her desk, narrowly avoiding a trio of age-worn scrolls. A quiet creak from the bottle announced its protest at the rough treatment, but fortunately its glass remained unbroken, perhaps saving Star from yet further frustration.
"I would suggest drinking it, Professor. Perhaps we could look at your schedule now?"
"It's not even sparkling," Star grumbled. Behind her, Penny Candy sighed. She could almost hear his eyes rolling.
"You have a meeting with Doctors Kinstrong and Cox-Apple at nine thirty, an appointment with the vice chancellor at eleven, and lunch with your d—"
"They're getting petty again," she said, tapping a hoof against the water bottle. She lifted it up and glared at it. "I've spent the last fifteen years around some of the most self-absorbed, stupid, ignorant creatures this planet has to offer. I'll show them what petty really means. Cancel it. All of it."
"Professor," Penny Candy began, but Star cut him off with a swipe of her tail. She settled the water back into her drinks cabinet, then turned to Penny Candy.
"Well, what are you waiting for," she asked when he didn't immediately react. "Send a memo or something, tell them I can't be there."
"But—"
"Don't care, I'm going home," Star replied airily as she trotted to the door. She paused to grab a cloak in case it rained before skipping from the room.
"But you told me this was important!"
Penny Candy's plaintive call was cut off by the closing door. Star trotted across the reception and out into the corridors of the university, where the occasional student wandered in contemplative silence or, as was often the case, rushed in frantically between review sessions, their backs laden with overstuffed folders of notes and books barely touched the entire year.
Reading Week, the the short period between the end of formal lectures and the start of exams, was an odd time for Star. As head of department she was, in theory, responsible for the administration and organisation of the entire thing, but she had long since farmed that out to a half-dozen associates, and it wasn't as if students really did much revising during the week anyway.
That is to say, Star never had.
The tapping of hooves reached Star's ears as she approached the next junction. She slowed, just moments before a trio of ponies rounded the corner, bouncing and dancing and laughing to one another in the wordless way close friends always did. Star stepped back to let them pass, and caught a brief, careless smile for her troubles. The closeness of their walk and the twining of their tails was a story that didn't need words, and by the time they reached the far end of the corridor their heads had fallen close, and their laughter had fallen to intimate silence.
Shaking her head, Star wheeled back to her path. Thoughts of how to fill the now-open day rolled through her mind as she trotted through the building that grown to encompass so much of her life. She thought of home, and Lucent's bed, but he was probably out at some society gathering or other, putting on a show for the good of the Duchy.
She was out of the building before she even realised it. The quad opened up before Star, thronged with ponies from end to end as the denizens of the campus enjoyed their few days of relative freedom. Most were gathered in knots and herds, picnicking and playing. Others basked in the bright sun, wrapped in tender embrace, or lay curled in sated peace in corners and edges and the shade of the trees.
A crack of a mallet against a ball shook Star from her contemplation. She glanced at a group of students at the end of the quad, where a polo match had sprung up, apparently from nowhere. Most of the players were male, which made the day a little more interesting. She was tempted to stay and watch, but that would have risked a collision with whoever had meddled with her drinks, and Star wasn't entirely certain she'd be able to resist the temptation to apply a polo mallet to her mystery mare's skull.
Nevertheless, she eyed a few of the perkier rumps as she passed by. Polo had always been her favourite sport; there was none of the padded nonsense of college hoofball, nor any the pretentious diva-diving of its more sedate cousin. Just a little ball, eight vicious weapons and a pile of sweaty, beautiful bodies. It was almost like sex. Though perhaps with a little less shouting.
On the tail of a loud thwack, the ball sailed into one of the saddlebags set up as an impromptu goal. A smattering of applause followed from the crowd as the players danced back to their starting positions, panting and foaming in the heady, still air of the quad. Star was already well on her way to the gates, but couldn't resist one last look back at the game. Maybe she could convince Lucent to take it up again.
With just a few more steps, Star reached the main road. For such a prestigious university, the central Canterlot campus was remarkably small, but given its location, perhaps that prestige required a certain sacrifice of dimension. The core campus – four buildings and the quad between – was nestled just a short distance from the walls of the palace, though the winding roads that threaded Canterlot ensured it would take at least half an hour for Star to walk to the palace gate, assuming she were interested in going there. Other ponies might be – Lucent certainly was these days – but there was precious little to draw Star up that particular hill again.
The road past the university was always crowded with ponies travelling to and from the palace. Despite the popular image of an endless stream of petitioners seeking audience with the Princess, the majority of those travellers were tourists, and when they weren't crowding the palace gardens or posing for pictures with the statuesque guards, they were stomping back and forth around the ancient buildings of the university and playing merry hell with the traffic.
Tourists were the one thing Star truly hated about Canterlot. She could tolerate the snotty bureaucrats and self-regarding nobles, the high prices and city's general low opinions of 'lesser ponies', but her mind recoiled at the thought of her university, the highest seat of learning and study in Equestria, being little more than a curiosity to a bunch of ignorants and fools.
A mare jostled Star as she walked and was gone before she could even think of a suitable insult. Star grumbled under her breath and continued on her way. Perhaps she should have stayed behind and put up with the dull ramblings of—
"Doctor Kinstrong." She halted at the foot of a lamppost and stared up at it. "And then lunch with Twilight. No wonder Penny was so insistent."
It was probably too late to keep her appointment with the griffon, not that she particularly minded. Horrible creatures at the best of times, all claws and sharp things, though they certainly knew how to put their tongues to good use. The lunch date might still be salvageable though, if she headed back now. Then again that would mean going back to face Penny Candy. He'd probably pout.
While Star was pondering how best to overcome an assault of grumps from her secretary, a coach drew up alongside the lamp. Star just barely noted the royal crest stamped on the side when the door creaked open and a mare leaned out to peer at her. Eyes that shone just a little too bright and glassy examined Star in minute detail, before the mare turned to peer into to the shadowy interior.
"It appears you were correct, my lord Prince," the mare intoned. She withdrew to the coach as another pony moved toward the door. A scruffy blue mane hung over his enormous, limpid eyes and a smile that could melt ice in the middle of winter.
"Shining?"
"Hi mom," said Shining Armor. "What are you doing out on the street?"
"Earning an honest wage."
"So you're getting paid for it now, huh," Shining shot back. Star's head swung around to look at her son's gleeful face.
"You've spent too long around that walking hormone factory you call a wife," she muttered. Shining winked at Star and burst out laughing, and she found herself sharing a look with the severely nonplussed crystal mare who was once again peering out of the coach at her. "Speaking of whom, where's she got to? It's unusual to see you out by yourself these days. You two are normally so tightly harnessed."
"Cadance is back at the palace. Don't try dodging the question, mom. I know you were supposed to be working all morning."
"I felt like some fresh air," said Star.
The coach rocked as Shining moved closer to the door. Though he still bore a smile on his face, the humour had left his expression. Star looked up at the face of her son and frowned. Just like that, the reason why she had left so abruptly seemed rather silly.
"I'm on my way to pick up Twilight from the rail station," Shining said. Then he moved away from the door and patted the seat beside him. "We were going to spend a little time together, but if you're taking the morning off I'm sure she won't mind eating a little earlier."
"I'd rather walk."
"And I'd rather you didn't," Shining replied. He tipped his head to one side, so uncannily mimicking his father that Star had to take a moment to steady herself.
"Fine, if that's how you want to be."
Rolling her eyes, Star stepped up into the coach. There was a hesitant moment as Shining and the mare that was presumably his seneschal arranged themselves to accommodate her, and then she was sat down next to the mare and opposite Shining. The coach swayed as they resumed their journey.
At first the three were silent. Shining watched Star with a faint grin that was far too similar to Celestia's for her comfort, while the seneschal at her side regarded Star down the entire length of her snout, with nothing but a tiny pout to give away any hint of her emotional state.
"You didn't answer my question, you know," said Star.
"You didn't answer mine," Shining replied with a glance at his seneschal. "You're not just out for a walk. I've seen that look before, mom."
"What look?"
"That one right there." Shining poked a hoof between Star's eyebrows, only to laugh quietly when she flinched away from the touch. "You get a little dimple right in the middle of your brow when you're annoyed about something, and then spend all your time glaring at the world as if you hate the fact it exists."
"That's hardly fair." Star rubbed her hoof against her brow. Was it true? She was going to be obsessing over that for days now. "If I hated the world do you think I'd spend so much time studying it? I've probably spent more time digging holes in it than you've spent bedding that oversexed pint-size alicorn you call your 'wife'."
"Mom..."
"And what have you got to show for it, hmm?" Star kicked at her seat and frowned. She ran her hoof across the upholstery and then across the wooden face beneath it. "No foals and a herd that's barely even worth the name. Why, she wouldn't even look at another mare when you two were courting."
Shining rolled his eyes and let out a long sigh, either oblivious to or carefully ignore Star's continued digging around beneath her seat. At Star's side, the seneschal remained dutifully silent, though Star could swear she felt the mare's icy-cold disapproval cutting across her withers.
"You mean she wouldn't look at you, mom."
"I'm a mare, aren't I?" She paused, glared at Shining and then at the boxwork beneath him. Star leaned forward, a smile slowly working its way onto her face, and tugged at one of the cushions. "It's perfectly natural for a young filly to show a little interest in a stallion's mother when the hormones are flying, but I didn't get so much as a peek under the tail from that one. It's not natural."
"Did I tell you about my mother, Pearl? She's got this incredible way with ponies." Shining flinched as Star's hooves shot under his seat. "Celestia alone knows why. And mom? There's no mini bar in here."
For a moment Star froze, not quite able to process what she'd just heard. She drew her hooves close to her barrel and looked up at her son's face. He was still smiling. She shook her head and sighed.
"I'm disappointed, Shiney."
"Well now, there's a change," said Shining Armor. His eyebrow lifted slightly, as if challenging Star to respond. She merely huffed and sat back in her seat.
"What's the point of swanning around like some sort of prince if you aren't going to enjoy a few perks?"
"It's not a good idea to turn up to important functions half in the bag. The risk of impaired judgement—" Shining's jaw snapped shut and he frowned. "Anyway I don't swan about! I have a lot of important work to do on behalf of Equestria."
"Oh yes, the very important work of standing around with your tail in the air while Princess Fucks-a-lot eyeballs your rear end. Still, at least now you aren't waving around a poorly-disguised excuse for being royal eye-candy."
Shining Armor leaned back in his seat, while his gaze moved slowly back and forth across Star's face.
"You're right," he said after some time. Star's ears perked up at the tenor of Shining's voice.
"I am?"
"Yes. You would have been better walking."
"Shining..." Star closed her eyes and pressed a hoof against each temple. She sighed and shook her head. "Don't pay me any mind, dear. I've had a pretty dire few days and this morning rather capped it off."
Shining raised an eyebrow. "Given you're sweating like a tongue-chewing salt addict, I'd guess the university took away your drinks cabinet again."
"Just the contents this time. They replaced it all with water."
"Maybe they don't want you lecturing in a cloud of alcoholic vapour any more."
"Oh please, I haven't lectured drunk in months!"
Shining raised an eyebrow. "That isn't what I heard."
"One large brandy is not drunk! Just because I spilled some on my lecture notes—"
"It doesn't matter," Shining Cut in. "If you talk to Twiley the way you've been talking to me it'll be on your back. I'm tired of playing mediator between you two, and so is dad. She's getting enough minotaur shit from the press. She doesn't need it from you as well."
"Whatever you say, dear," Star replied.
The coach fell silent as they rounded a sharp corner. Star peered out of the window at passing traffic and wondered what it would be like to travel this way all the time. Probably quite boring after a while.
"You know, you're being very assertive all of a sudden," she said. Shining looked up at her with a frown and then shrugged.
"You raised me to think for myself, mom."
"And this is what you call thinking for yourself?"
"Yeah," Shining replied as the coach shuddered to a halt. He leaned over to push the door open. "It is."
Ignoring Star's glare, Shining Armor squeezed out of the coach and landed on the broad paving stones of a large square that served as the forecourt for Canterlot's central train station. The station building hunkered at the far side, squat and low, as if trying to hide its role in the city's life. The preponderance of guards around the square gave the game away. None broke their disciplined stance to observe their former captain, but as Star clambered from the coach she noted that one or two stallions nearby briefly glanced in her direction.
"I think he was in one of my lectures," she muttered as Shining leaned into the coach to converse with his seneschal. It took her a moment to register the door slam and the coach clatter away behind them; she turned to Shining as he watched it leave.
"We're eating at a café in the park," he said, when he noticed Star's interrogating glare. "Pearl will be around with the coach to pick us up later."
"And when did you plan on telling me this?"
"Last week, when I arranged everything with your secretary."
"Oh." Star rubbed her ear and grinned. "That would rely on my ever listening to him."
"Or anypony," Shining shot back, before turning to trot across the square. Star set her jaw and followed after him, all the while wondering just where he had picked up that stubborn streak and why he was displaying it now of all times.
Canterlot Central Station had become a regular fixture of Star's life in the years since she had surrendered to her occasional government service. Normally it would be the first step on her journey to some distant part of the world, at least when she wasn't being carted back and forth on high-speed pegasus courier carriages. She much preferred the sedate luxury of a long-distance airship, especially when she was paid for time spent away from her department. Unlike the trains, the airship lines always found space to stock a decent selection of drinks.
An empty waiting hall greeted Star as she sauntered through the door. For a moment she felt a strange sense of isolation. She never travelled alone. At times she was accompanied by entire herds of staff and students, though most often she travelled with an aide or an eager young assistant who would be thoroughly ruined by the time the journey was over. Even if it was just Lucent coming to see her off, or Crystal pretending to wish her a pleasant journey, there was usually someone by her side.
Instead, Shining had forged off ahead of her and was far across the echoing, cavernous hall, trotting between the seats to where Twilight was already waiting. With a snort she wondered why she was even here. It wasn't as if Twilight wanted to spend time with her any more, especially if she'd been remotely involved in Star's last less-than-successful visit to the palace.
As she approached the chattering pair, Star saw Twilight was smiling, which was unusual enough when they were anywhere near one another. Even when she looked across the hall toward Star, the smile remained.
"Someone got laid," Star muttered as she sidled up to the pair. Shining's ears twisted toward her; a moment later his eyes turned to join them.
"What was that?"
Star turned from her son's penetrating gaze. "Oh, nothing dear."
Shining snorted, while Twilight rolled her eyes. Of course they would know what she said. There was little point in pretending otherwise. While the pair talked, Star perched herself on a nearby seat and wondered whether she should complain about how uncomfortable it was.
Before she could fully form the thought, she found Shining and Twilight marching past her, back toward the entrance.
"Aren't you going to wait for me?" She hopped from the seat, taking care not to appear too eager to follow her children. Twilight glanced back, rolling her eyes.
"Haven't you always said you prefer to make your own path?"
"With a machete," Shining added, to Twilight's incomprehensible amusement. They both laughed as they trotted away, trailing Star in their wake.
"Well aren't you at least going to say hello?"
Twilight's step faltered and she slowed, looking back at Star again with a frown. "I did," she grunted. "But I guess you were too busy looking for a seat."
"Oh," said Star, as she watched her daughter stomp away. Gone was the cheery smile and the lightness in her step, replaced with muttered complaints to Shining and a rigid tension in her neck.
Five minutes from cheerful to chilly. It was like Twilight Velvet all over again. Star jogged to catch up, settling into a pace alongside the pair.
"How about I pay for lunch," she said, with what she hoped was a friendly smile. Twilight glanced at Shining briefly. Some message must have passed between them, as a moment later she gave Star a curt nod.
Together, the three exited the station in silence.
* * *
"I should have known there was a catch when you said you were paying."
Feigning surprise, Star looked across a stout wooden table at Twilight's scowling face. "Oh Twilight, don't be so negative. This—" and here she waved her hoof about to take in the dimly lit, smoky interior of a low-ceilinged room "—is the most expensive Impala deli in Canterlot."
"It's the only Impala deli in Canterlot," Twilight shot back. She leaned forward across the table, glancing at Shining Armor briefly while dropping her voice to a whisper. "And it's a complete dive! The floor is made of sawdust and the whole place smells like the Everfree Forest in the middle of summer!"
"Oh don't be silly, Twilight, that's just for atmosphere! Besides." Star leaned back and took a deep breath, savouring the pungent aroma and the subtler scents of familiar foods beneath it. "I like it. And you will too, once you've tasted the food they make here. I was so excited when they opened up last month, it was like a tiny piece of home had come to find me!"
Star's voice trailed away as she looked around the room. Unsure of how to continue the thought, she settled for a shrug and a non-committal snort, before waving at a slender Impala buck who had just emerged from a dimly lit corridor to the rear of the deli. The buck flared his nostrils as he sidled toward the trio.
"Dumela, Star Sparkle," he said, granting Star a brief and perfunctory smile, before turning a broader and much friendlier smile to the others. "Le Amogetswe my friends, it is not often we are graced with so many noble guests. I am Kenosi, who owns this place, and you are Twilight Sparkle and Shining Armor of the same house, if I am not mistaken?"
Shining hesitated before nodding. "That's us, yeah."
"Well well! Star has spoken fondly of you. It is good to finally meet the two of you." Kenosi tugged a notebook from a pocket within his tunic, holding it between the two toes of his cloven foot. "I look forward to seeing how much of what she said is true. Now. Have you chosen what you wish to eat? I have just moments ago prepared a fresh batch of magwinya. Delicious with beans and morogo!"
Star gave Kenosi a wink and pointed at her two offspring. "They'll have that. I'll have the matemekwane stew. And some of that ginger beer you keep making in the back. The good stuff, not the muddy water you sell to the tourists."
"Oh Star, for a pony so learned you seem to display terrible manners. It is all good!" Kenosi tugged a pencil from the notebook's spine with his teeth and quickly noticed down their orders. "I shall return in but a few minutes, my friends. Boipelo!" He turned briefly to the rear of the restaurant. "Dinwa! Please, as noble guests, enjoy a drink with my compliments. "
After flashing them a cheery grin, Kenosi turned and walked away. Not even half way from their table he was bawling orders toward the kitchen in his native tongue, prompting a timid mare – doe, Star corrected herself – to tumble into the restaurant a moment later with a tray of drinks hooked across her slender shoulders.
She didn't speak as she set the drinks down before the trio, though she did shoot a shy smile toward Shining before she trotted away. Star watched her go, shaking her head.
"Such a shame, you know," she said as she reached for her drink. The touch of her hoof on the glass kicked a busy shower of bubbles form the bottom of the drink, raising a brief, foamy head atop it. She held the glass up to drink, but the bouncing fizz caught in her nose. She sneezed and put the drink down again.
Twilight poked at her drink, watching the same effect from a distance. "What is?"
"How little ponies know about the world. Even I didn't know about that 'boar bon' your human likes to drink and I've been all over Bokswana." Star raised her glass and took a taste. The sharp burn of ginger and alcohol cut across her tongue to the back of her throat and she had to swallow back a cough.
"Just because you've taken a few expeditions—"
Star snorted. She put her drink down and turned fully to face Twilight. "I have. What I learned out there is that we don't know a damn thing about this planet or its inhabitants. We look at ourselves and think that's the normal way for things to be. We pick out species that are like us, like the zebra with their split tribes that look like a matriarchy, or some obscure Hindi sect that locks up its males in temples and bedrooms, and say that proves how normal we are. But then we have a species like these Impala... they contradict everything we ponies believe to be right and true, you know? Their males run everything, their females speak practically a separate dialect that they consider childish if a male uses it. They barely have sex out of season."
"Funny you'd notice that," Shining said. He smiled at Star and raised his cup when she glared at him. Star rolled her eyes and took a long draught of her drink.
"Enough of your lip," she declared.
A stuffy silence fell across the table, punctuated by the rattle of pans and a muffled conversation from the kitchen. Twilight was staring at her drink, seemingly unwilling to actually drink it. By contrast, Shining had already downed most of his and looked quite perky, with just the first hint of pink cheeks glowing beneath the white of his coat.
Finally Twilight risked a tiny sip of her drink. She stayed silent for a while longer, smacking her lips at what was likely an entirely unfamiliar taste, but then pushed the drink aside and turned her attention back to Star. "Why are you telling us this?"
Star swirled her glass and stared into its cloudy depths. "I thought it might help with that book you were talking about writing. Give you a different perspective." She set her drink down and looked across at Twilight. "Imagine if your human had turned up next to an Impala village. He'd fit right in, wouldn't he?"
"His name is Lero," Twilight replied. "And I for one am glad he didn't."
"I'll bet you are," Star said, just as a waitress trotted into the restaurant. She bore a heavy black pot on her back, on a thick wooden yoke. Steam clouded from the pot like a billowing grassland storm, carrying the scent of stewed vegetables and alien spices, rich and heady. Another waitress, who had brought their drinks earlier, followed with two platters laden with rice and greens. Together the pair arranged their burdens across the table with competent ease.
The pair left without a word, and this time not even a glance in Shining Armor's direction. He didn't seem particularly worried by the fact, having already turned his attention to the meal before him with considerable enthusiasm. His drink was empty as well, Star noted. So much for the risk of impaired judgement.
"So." Star lifted a fat wooden spoon and swirled it around her bowl until it bumped against a dumpling. "We're here. What did you want to talk about?"
"The wedding," Twilight replied, while absently picking at her meal. She took another sip of her drink and frowned. "There are a few details to work out, mostly how many guests we're going to be inviting. Dad is pretty convinced all of Canterlot will want a seat there by the time it rolls around."
Star paused with a spoonful of stew halfway to her mouth. She set it back in the bowl. "You've already spoken to your father? When?"
"The other week, after you walked out on us. I thought he would have told you."
"How could he? I've spent the last few weeks at my university apartment getting ready for—the only time I saw your father was when I went with him to see Princess Luna."
"Which didn't go well," Shining Armor added around a mouthful of beans. Star glared briefly at her son, but he had already lost himself to the sight of his food.
"Are they not feeding you at the palace, dear?"
"Missed breakfast," Shining said. He swallowed. "It helps this tastes good. I'll have to introduce Cadie to it."
"Speaking of her pinkness—"
"Forget about Cadance," Twilight cut in. She waited a moment for Star's attention. "You went with dad to see Princess Luna, but you didn't talk to him about the wedding?"
"Oh, no, I imagine he didn't have time," Star said, retrieving her spoon. "Considering we'd barely had a chance to talk before Luna threw me out."
"Threw you out."
Star nodded as she dipped her spoon into the stew again. "Yes."
Twilight put both hooves over her face and let out a long breath. "Mom, why do you keep doing this? What did you say to her?"
"I merely asked her about the possibility that she might have some knowledge of the location of Great Tswana." She bit down on a dumpling, watched by Twilight, who had dropped her hooves to the table again.
"And then what?" Twilight growled. Star shrugged, but her daughter seemed undeterred. "You don't get thrown out of the palace for asking questions, mom."
"I might have implied that Luna was being less than forthright in order to prevent embarrassing her sister." Star took another gulp of her drink, while idly stirring the stew with her spoon.
Shining laughed and shook his head. "According to dad you told her to stop trying to cover up for 'that overbearing, cake-guzzling cow' and the started throwing old scrolls at her and demanding to know why she would willing collude in the suppression of thousands of years of history."
"It's possible I was a little caught up in the moment," Star murmured.
"And when you demanded to know if Twilight had told her to keep it secret?"
"Well..." The sound of Twilight's teeth grating against one another was not something Star had ever heard before. "That really doesn't sound healthy, dear."
Twilight closed her eyes and worked her jaw back and forth a few times. She leaned across her food, pushing aside her drink, to glare at Star. "You actually believed I would try and convince Princess Luna to keep secrets from you? What in the name of heaven made you think I'd be so vindictive?"
"And why not," Star replied, before taking another spoonful of stew. "I am."
Twilight's bench let out a very quiet creak as she leaned back. She glanced at Shining, who smiled back at her as he chewed contentedly on a magwinya.
"You did ask," Star said, once she had taken a few more bites of her stew. She waved the spoon at Twilight. "Never ask a question if you don't want to know the answer."
Twilight toyed with her food again, before turning to the drink. She took down a good third of it in a single swallow, gasped, cleared her throat and then carefully set the glass down again.
"Right now," she said, "I'm not sure if I even want to invite you any more."
"Oh you can't leave your old mare out of something like this," Star replied. She snorted and turned her attention back to her food. "When is it anyway?"
"The middle of April."
Star paused, then slowly lowered her spoon into the bowl. After a moment's thought she pushed it aside and looked over at Twilight. "That's going to cut things rather tight. I join my expedition on the seventeenth of April."
Something happened to Twilight then that Star had never seen before. She froze, falling so silent that it seemed she had even stopped breathing. Her gaze dropped to a point just below Star's chin and held there, as if by a compulsion. As if looking at Star's face was an impossible task.
"The wedding is on the seventeenth," she said quietly.
"Sweetie—"
"Don't—" Twilight looked up. Her eyes glittered in the restaurant's low light. "Don't call me that."
"Okay," Star said. She pushed her food aside, no longer interested in it. "Twilight. I can imagine you're upset."
"Upset?" Twilight pushed her food aside in turn, before laying both hooves on the table. "Upset? What makes you think I'm upset? Just because my own mother decides to schedule a camping holiday on the most important day of my life? Just because she didn't have the decency to talk to me for five minutes about her plans for the future so that maybe we could make sure there'd be no conflicts? I'm only bonding myself to the beings I love more than anything on this earth, in a ceremony that my own mother apparently believes isn't worth her time to attend! What in heaven's name makes you think I'd be upset, mom?"
"Twilight—"
The table rattled as Twilight's hoof slammed against it. "You planned this!"
"I did nothing of the sort!"
"Oh really? The mare who freely admits how vindictive she can be is somehow entirely innocent when her work oh so conveniently clashes with my wedding, right after I refused your stupid treasure-hunting trip?" Breathing hard, Twilight kicked back her chair and stepped away from the table. She grabbed her drink and finished off the rest, before tossing the empty cup against her untouched food. "Well if you don't want to come then that's just fine with me!"
"Twilight, please just listen to yourself."
"This whole trip was a waste of time," Twilight muttered. She tugged a few coins from a purse around her neck and tossed them on the table. "That should cover my share of this exercise in futility."
Before Star could reply, Twilight had stormed from the restaurant. With an exasperated sigh Star hauled herself from her seat and trotted around the table, pausing a moment to pick up the money Twilight had dropped.
The sun was blinding as Star stepped out in the street. She looked around, expecting Twilight to be some distance away already, but to her surprise Star found her daughter standing on the path just to the side of the door. Twilight was leaning heavily against a metal pillar that held up a marquee over the main entrance. She had her eyes closed and was taking deep, ragged breaths, and didn't seem to notice Star as she sidled up alongside.
After a minute, Twilight finally noticed Star. "What do you want?"
"You dropped this."
Star held out Twilight's coins with her hoof. Twilight frowned at them, then grudgingly scooped them up in her magic and dropped them back in her purse.
"I honestly didn't plan to miss anything, Twilight. I wanted to be at your wedding, even if it is to this... human of yours." Star shook her head, smiling just a little. "I'll grant I've never been one to shy away from bonding with other species, if I can put it that way, and unlike some ponies I could name you're at least forming a proper herd, even if it is a little unorthodox."
She moved a fraction closer to her daughter and put a hoof on Twilight's unresisting shoulders. "I promise, if there was any way to be there, I'd take it."
"You say that, mom..." Twilight shrugged Star's hoof off and moved slowly from her spot by the pillar, circling it until she faced Star. "You always said it. You wanted to be there. You wanted to take part. You wanted... well I wanted my mom to be in my life for more than just a few days every month. I wanted her to hug me, read to me, I wanted mommy to see me get my cutie mark. You always promised dad that next time you'd stay, next time you'd come home for good. All my life, I waited for you to keep that promise." Shaking her head, Twilight ran a hoof through her mane, not caring how she pulled it into a ragged mess. "If you wanted to be part of my life, you'd already have been there."
Twilight waited, perhaps hoping for Star to answer. But Star didn't have any answer. No way to respond that wouldn't cement the image Twilight had painted of her. All she could do was stare at her daughter, pursing her lips, while all the instinctive responses flitted around her mind like particularly ferocious bats exposed to the light of a torch.
With no answer forthcoming, Twilight reluctantly pulled herself away from the pole and from Star, and turned to walk slowly down the street. Star could do nothing but watch as she left, and wonder how she had brought herself to this rotten mess.
The sound of hooves exiting the restaurant caught Star's ear. She listened as Shining rolled up beside her without a word. He was chewing on the remains of his lunch; a fresh drink floated at his side, fizzing and foaming as it reacted to the arcane pressure of his magic. For a few minutes he watched Twilight in silence, until she turned the corner at the end of the street. Then he swallowed his food, took a sip of his drink, and let out a quiet sigh.
"Dad's going to be pissed," he said. Star snorted and rolled her eyes, but she couldn't disagree.
"She's too stubborn for her own good."
"Family trait," said Shining. He finished his drink in just a few swallows and set the glass down by the restaurant door. "I'd better go and find my ride home."
"You're not staying?"
"Matters of state, mom." Shining leaned down to snuffle at Star's cheek. He smiled briefly when he straightened up. "Plus I have to find Cadance before Twilight so I can explain how badly you blew it this time." He turned, then paused to look down at Star again. "Oh, and I paid for the meal. Just so you know."
And with that he left, whistling a jaunty song, leaving Star entirely alone. She watched as Shining followed Twilight's path to the end of the street until he was swallowed in the crowd.
Cemeteries were always quiet, Star had found. Some ponies called it peaceful, and prosed at one another about the truths that were spoken in silence, and how it was respectful to the departed to maintain this artificial lack of noise. It was a convenient lie to calm the abject horror of a place where the living could so casually stride amongst the ranks of the dead, but somehow, perhaps by sheer force of will, that lie had managed to summon a silence so profound, so absolute, that even the local wildlife had come to abide by it.
The only thing to break the unspoken rule was the wind. As she stood at the edge of a patch of freshly turned earth, Star could hear the endless whisper of leaves amongst the branches of a lonesome sycamore somewhere to her left, and the rustle of the long grass all around as it danced in the breeze.
It should have been raining. It should have been blazing sunlight. Anything, anything other than the oppressive grey sky that lay overcast and featureless above, stealing shadows and light, and turning everything around Star to the same monotonous, lifeless flat parody of the living world.
The grave before her was bare, unadorned but for a simple headstone. Two dates. A name. A single bunch of flowers lay on the freshly turned earth, their petals just starting to wilt. Who had placed them there Star could only guess, though they bore no card or label to confirm it. She knew who it hadn't been.
She had wanted to speak, but there weren't any words. She'd wanted to pour herself out on the dark, rich soil that lay over her friend, her mentor for so many more years than she could count. Instead she'd left a simple white card nestled on the flowers.
"Indy..."
Star bit her lip and turned her face from the grave. There was nothing she could say, and nobody to hear it. She lifted the card she had left and held it up to the dull light, staring at the pointless message she'd scrawled on it on her way to the cemetery that morning. Her eyes traced the words. A farewell, to innocent eyes. To her own it was a confession, perhaps, of feelings and truths neither had been willing to discuss even on those dark, humid nights in the midst of an empty wilderness when they'd shared so much.
Instead she sang, though her voice barely rose above a croaked whisper, and moved her body back and forth to a rhythm that had haunted her from the first beat. It was a song without words, without rhyme, but filled with longing and loss and the wish for a future that could never be seen.
No tears fell when she closed her eyes to the card, nor when the wave of heat and light fell against her face. When she opened them again the card was gone, reduced to ash and smoke that drifted away on the wind, to be lost amongst the swaying grass and restless trees.
Then there was only the oppressive silence, the 'respect' for those who could never know it. Star had to bite back on the urge to shout, to yell obscenities at the empty place and the lifeless husk that lay beneath her hooves. Instead she stood and stared at the grave, and thought about the colleagues that had abandoned Path at the last, pushing her very existence from their collective mind even as they had installed Star as her replacement.
How long she stood and watched, Star wasn't sure. It was only the rising sound of hooves on turf that let her know time had passed at all; the sun had fallen by nearly an hour when she looked toward it.
"I'm surprised to see you here," she said, turning her head toward Twilight Velvet, as the latter joined her at the side of the grave. "Or maybe I shouldn't be. You always did enjoy gloating over my misery."
The jibe seemed to hit home, if the tightening of Twilight's jaw was any indication. She closed her eyes and took a sharp breath through her nose.
"You can't go a single moment without some sort of insult, can you?"
"It was merely an observation."
"Even so." Twilight Velvet shook her head. When her eyes opened they seemed diminished, somehow. Dull. Empty. "I don't want to fight with you, Star. Not today."
"As if we ever have a choice."
In the silence, the respectful emptiness that followed, Star felt her eyes dragging back to the stone. She chewed at her lips and forced herself to look away.
"Why are you really here, Twilight? You barely knew her. They knew her better, as if that made all of a damned difference." Star's mouth felt thick and dry. She swallowed, trying to moisten it, and turned back to the grave. "Not one of them came, you know. None of them will ever admit it, but they shut her out when she retired. She showed them up for the lazy, good-for-nothing wafflers they were, so the moment her tenure ended she was shuffled out and left to rot. Yesterday's rubbish. It didn't matter how much she'd achieved in her career. Do you understand that? It didn't matter! One tiny little mistake and she's gone, wiped out. Ignored for the rest of her life. Left to be buried by her niece and her sister, who'll probably be lying next to her in a few months from the look of her."
Now the tears came, hot and fast, staining her cheeks like the rain that should rightly be falling to hide them. Star scrubbed at her face and tried to blink them away before they could become too obvious.
"She gave everything to that place."
"Star..."
"It would have been better if she'd died in that bloody rockslide. At least then she'd be remembered!"
"This isn't—"
"Why are you here!"
Star was breathing ragged and loud as she whirled on Twilight, eyes wide, no longer caring about her tears, nor the way Twilight flinched away from her glare.
"Tell me, for Celestia's sake, why you can't just let me be for once in my life?"
It was only a little sound that Twilight made in response, a tiny, indrawn breath, but it was enough to catch Star's attention. When she turned to look, she found Twilight trying and failing to hold her mouth still; the quiver of her lip and the tremble of her jaw was impossible to hide.
"I came for you, Star." Her head shook tightly, barely moving, and she looked away and swallowed once, twice, before speaking again. "I came to—"
"A graveside reconciliation, is that what you're after?" Star snorted. The heat that filled her face and chest seemed almost enough to dry her eyes. "You've spent too long in your fantasy stories."
"That's rich coming from a pony who spends so much time living in the past that she didn't even see her daughter find her mark!"
Star tore her eyes from the grave and rounded on Twilight, unable to halt the tremor across her withers. "I'm not the one who sent my daughter off to be one of Princess Celestia's perpetual virgin students! She'll either go crazy, or die childless, or disappear to Celestia herself knows where, and then what happens?"
"It's her own choice."
"She's still a foal!"
Twilight's snout rose just a fraction. She closed her eyes and took a shallow breath. "You gave up the right to choose how she was raised when you abandoned her to chase after your stupid fantasy of a lost city. I came here because I thought you might finally be ready to take some responsibility for your actions. Obviously I was wrong."
"For the love of... Twilight—"
"No, I've had enough," Twilight declared as she walked away. She didn't even look back at Star, or turn to make her voice clearer. She just raised it instead. "I'll be at home, looking after your child."
"Wait!"
To Star's surprise, Twilight actually stopped. She turned her head, one foreleg raised to her chest as she twisted to look over her shoulder, but if Star had expected any sort of welcome in her expression she was sorely disappointed. Twilight's eyes remained as cold as ever.
"The Princess wants to see you. Tomorrow. She has offered the courtesy of asking your personal permission to continue tutoring Twilight, though heavens know she doesn't need it." Twilight Velvet's ears had rolled back against her head. She made no effort to lift them again. Every muscle in her body stood stark and tense beneath her coat. "If you're as smart as you claim, you'll give it to her."
Then she turned and walked from the cemetery without another word.
* * *
Despite her family ties, her growing status and the demands of her work, Star had never visited the Royal palace. She knew Lucent spent a great deal of time at the Royal Court, part of the obligation of his title she presumed, but he never took any of the rest of their herd with him. Except for Crincile, who shared his title and also had the right to enter by her own family name.
Of course, the institution of government was far larger than the palace. The closest Star ever came to that particular building was an occasional visit to the Royal Archive, or to Martingale House just beyond the palace walls on the rare occasion when she had to deliver briefings to Foreign Ministry staff. Even that was unusual: normally they came to her, to sit in one of her lecture halls and listen attentively like any other student, and Celestia help them if they interrupted before she was finished.
Now she was in the palace itself, in a private garden that few other than Celestia's personal staff and closest advisors ever saw, all because of the events of a single day, and a filly with ambition and the power to match it. She hadn't been summoned anywhere for years. It was actually quite a novel experience.
Guards stood in silence around the garden, barely visible among the trees and hedges. In fact they might as well have been statues; they hadn't moved for the entire time Star had waited there, not even to look at her as she walked around. Once or twice she'd tried to catch one out, looking away and then peeking back to see if their eyes followed her. She'd not managed it yet.
After a few more minutes of waiting she gave up and hauled herself from the bench she'd been resting on, Star trotted to the nearest guard and looked up at his impassive face.
"My son wants to be one of you one day," she said. The guard didn't reply. He didn't even twitch. "Frankly I can't imagine he'd be able to stand still long enough. Or keep his mouth shut for that matter."
She leaned closer to the guard, examining his face and coat. There were persistent rumours that Celestia's guard wore enchanted armour to disguise their forms and make them all look the same, but any pony with an ounce of magic in their bones would be able to feel an enchantment of that sort as soon as they were close enough. As she stood close to this particular stallion, all Star could sense was the warmth of his skin, and the smell of polish and wax and musky sweat.
"You've been out in the sun too long," she said with a sniff, and then turned away. Before she was even a few steps away she heard a discreet snuffling. Star smiled to herself. Apparently they were ponies after all.
Another guard was standing by the bench, though Star hadn't heard his arrival. He waited impassively for her to approach before bowing his head in greeting.
"Oh, so you can move as well," she grunted. The guard – a captain by the colour of his uniform – responded with a tight, humourless smile.
"And speak too, ma'am." His voice was quiet, but firm and impossible to ignore. He held a hoof toward a grand porch a little further along the garden. "Her majesty wished to express her deepest apologies for the delay. She shall accept you presently in the Celestial Court."
After another bow, the Captain turned smartly on his hind legs and marched away. Star had little choice but to follow.
From the sun-soaked garden, Star was guided through a dim atrium and along a corridor. It was only a short walk to the Court, which surprised Star; the circuitous route she had taken to the garden had made her believe she was a great distance from the core of the palace. She wondered if the deception was deliberate.
The doors were open when they arrived, though the guards at either side formed as impenetrable a barrier as any lump of wood and iron. The crowd milling in the reception watched Star with envy and curiosity as she and her escort strolled past and into the room beyond.
The Celestial Court was light and airy, and pleasantly cool despite the overheated summer. Vents around the edges of the court's vaulted roof were open wide, drawing a slight, yet steady flow of air from grilles set in the floor around the walls. Most of the denizens milling the court had clustered over the vents to enjoy the cooling breeze as they conversed on matters far beyond the interest of the common pony. Few paid attention to Star. Many kept their eyes on the throne and its occupant, who conversed quietly with a young mare in the livery of the palace staff.
A mare to her right mumbled inanities to her companions as Star passed by, a nattering courtesan worth little attention at first. Though when Star caught the words 'adorable' and 'filly' her interest grew. She slowed, staring at the trio who had muttered the words, before following the line of their sight back to the throne.
Star's heart froze in her chest. At the foot of the throne, close to Princess Celestia's golden shoes, lay the form of a sleeping filly. It was Twilight. A stuffed toy was clutched in her hooves, the same ratty little thing that had arrived from heavens only knew where, but which over the years had become her firm favourite.
Celestia finally looked up as Star approached the foot of the dais. She smiled warmly and stepped from her throne, careful to avoid the pillow that lay close to Twilight's head, and descended toward Star with her wings raised.
"Professor Sparkle. I am pleased that you could come at such short notice," she said, bowing her head just a fraction. "Given your recent loss I would have understood had you chosen to postpone our meeting."
"Anything to get a day off work." Star paused and then allowed her head to bow in return. "Your Highness."
"Of course," Celestia replied. She raised her head to look over the room. With the smile never leaving her face, Celestia nodded to the mare she had been conversing with, then returned to her throne.
A moment passed in which nothing seemed to change, but then the sound of conversation began to grow and twist. Star watched as servants quietly visited the knots and clusters of ponies standing around the court, breaking them up with whispered exhortations and encouragements and ushering them toward the doors.
Celestia watched the crowd as they left, and Star watched Celestia. The serene expression the Princess wore never once wavered, not even when the last of the groups had left. The doors closed, leaving Star, Celestia and young Twilight alone in the echoing emptiness of the throne room.
Finally, Celestia let out a sigh and lowered her wings. "These are wonderful ponies, but their constant presence can be sometimes grating. Leadership is a never-ending trial, is it not?"
"I wouldn't know," Star replied, edging toward the throne. She halted when Celestia's gaze turned to her. "Is this the most appropriate place for a child, ma'am?"
"I believe children are wont to explore as they may. If it will placate your concerns, I didn't bring Twilight here deliberately." Celestia reached a hoof out toward Twilight's head, but then halted a short distance from it. She turned it away to fuss with the discarded pillow instead. "Twilight managed to find her own way in while I was holding an audience. I wasn't even aware of her until certain visitors of the court began to pay an inordinate amount of attention to my hooves."
Celestia turned from the throne, and Twilight, and held up a hoof toward the far door, where the same mare from before stood waiting. The mare trotted to Celestia's side and bowed.
"See that young lady Twilight is brought safely to her chambers," the Princess said, returning her attention to Star. The mare bowed again and set to retrieving Twilight from beneath the throne. "Your daughter displays a remarkable talent, Professor Sparkle. She managed to virtually silence my entire court for almost an hour without speaking a word, something I have never achieved over the course of more than a thousand years."
Star didn't reply, preferring to watch as the servant loaded Twilight onto her back like so much luggage. Her gaze followed Twilight until the pair were out of earshot.
"She's staying at the palace."
"By agreement with your herd," Celestia replied. "Lucent in particularly seemed to feel it would be beneficial. I shall personally tend to her training in the use of magic, whilst the rest of her education shall take place at the School or on placement to suitable institutions. She shall remain here at the palace for three days of every week in order to facilitate that, at least to begin with, but as her education progresses I expect she'll spend the majority of her time either here or at the School."
Star sat herself down at the foot of the throne. Taking a breath, she shook her head. "Sounds like you and Luci have this all planned out quite nicely between you. I'm not sure where I come in."
"As her mother—"
Star's abrupt laughter echoed around the throne room,loud and hard enough to momentarily knock the composure from even Celestia's face. "Her mother! As if anypony gave a damn about that before!"
"As her mother," Celestia persisted, "it is your privilege to be fully informed of Twilight's state. I would hope for your approval in the matter as well. To learn at my school and receive my personal tuition is an opportunity that few ponies are granted. Given your family history it would surprise me greatly to find that you would deny Twilight this chance."
"I'm not going to deny her anything," Star replied. "But she's too young to make that sort of decision."
"At which point it becomes the responsibility of her family. And you," Celestia said, with another irritatingly congenial smile.
"And yet if I decide it's not right I'm sure you'll argue that I'm standing against the best interests of the filly and to hell with my status as her mother. I know a fait accompli when I see one, Princess. The only question is how long you've been planning this particular one."
Celestia tilted her head to one side, just a little, like a mother humouring a recalcitrant child. "An interesting statement," she said, and turned away.
Her long legs took only a few strides to bring her to the throne again, but Celestia didn't seat herself just yet. She looked up at the stained glass windows along the hall, her eyes bouncing from one to the next, until they came to rest on an abstract depiction of the moon surrounded by a half-dozen stars.
"I have observed your career since you chose to assist our efforts to promote harmony with our neighbours," she said, before turning her gaze back to Star. "You have a habit of making interesting statements, one that apparently stretches back to your first appearance at Canterlot University if my sources are to be believed. Occasionally they carry some justification, though I wonder what prompted this one in particular."
"The sitter," Star said. Celestia's response was a mere flicker of interest and a slight narrowing of her eyes. "The pink one with the big hair and too much interest in my son."
"Princess Cadance."
"That's what I said isn't it?"
"If you're insinuating that I sent Cadance to spy on your family—"
"There's no if."
Star turned to glare at the windows. Historical scenes, each one encapsulating some important event in Equestria's history, no doubt chosen after very careful consideration by her Highness. She let her eyes linger on the window depicting Cadance's ascension before turning away.
"You know my family history, Princess," she continued. "You've probably been itching to get your hooves on one of us for centuries, one way or another."
"While it is true that the Sparkle name has always been associated with great power and skill with magic, I did not choose your daughter merely to get my 'itchy hooves' on a powerful apprentice. The first surge she experienced was immense. Without the benefit of my experience she might lose herself to that power and become a danger to others." Celestia tilted her head to one side. "Or to herself. It would be a tragedy to lose yet another of her potential so soon."
The air seemed to chill, as if a cloud had moved across the face of the sun, but the light shone through the windows as bright as ever. Star clenched and unclenched her jaw as she sought a reply that wasn't an incoherent screech. "What would you know about loss?"
Celestia paused. For a moment her eyes lost their focus; but only a moment, over almost before Star saw it. She leaned back and nodded slowly. "Perhaps no more than I appear to know," she replied. "Yet appearance is an odd thing, is it not? When I first met your herd, I would have had no difficulty believing that Twilight Velvet was Twilight Sparkle's birth mother. One could even be forgiven for thinking you and she are sisters."
Star frowned at the Princess, trying to read her expression. Perhaps it was the size and shape of her body that was making it so difficult: she'd never tried to match wits with an alicorn before. Cadance didn't count.
"One crazy relative is enough, thank you," she replied, before turning up her snout. "Besides, what sort of pervert do you think I am to herd with my own sister?"
"What sort indeed," Celestia said. She smiled and stood, raising her wings behind her head. "As for Princess Cadance, I merely advised that she spend more time beyond the palace in order to socialise and integrate into society as a normal pony. She chose to foalsit of her own accord, and I believe it was your stallion who chose to retain her services at the prompting of your son."
"That boy," Star muttered, staring at the carpet as she shook her head.
When she looked up again, Celestia had descended from the dais once more and stood before Star, smiling the same warm, inviting smile she always wore for the public. Hoofsteps echoed in the throne room behind Star; she looked over her shoulder to see a squad of guards trooping through the door along with a trio of ponies in the formal livery of Celestia's personal servants.
"It appears our audience has reached a conclusion, Professor." Celestia nodded to the servants as they passed by; the three bobbed their heads in response, but otherwise barely acknowledged the Princess. "Twilight will learn a great deal here. You can be assured she shall have the best education possible in this age."
Another smile accompanied the statement, and a subtle wave of warmth shortly after. Star leaned back and stared up at Celestia, but the Princess seemed oblivious to the renewed attention. "Just like that? So I really don't have any choice at all, do I?"
"There is always a choice, Professor Sparkle, however little we might wish to make it," Celestia replied. She raised her head and turned away, moving with sedate grace toward the assembled servants by the throne.
Star felt the warmth of another pony at her side. She looked up at the stoic face of her previous escort. He didn't look back. Fighting the tension in her shoulders, Star looked up at Celestia again, now safely ensconced on the throne in the midst of attentive servants.
"You're taking my daughter away from me."
Celestia looked down on Star, no longer smiling. "I can assure you, professor, that your daughter will be as close to you as she has ever been," she said, then lifted her gaze to the far wall, wearing the same stiff-skinned face Star used to dismiss her more easily cowed students.
Star could have tried to argue, but even she was not so suicidally obtuse as to provoke the ire of a creature so close to godhood as to make no difference. Instead, with her head held high, Star turned from the throne and marched away.
* * *
Considering the season, the house had been unusually quiet when Star woke that morning. Normally she would have been treated to the ritual screaming match that always evolved between Scintilla and Crystal before they settled down to business, or the tramping of servants as they scurried back and forth with fresh bedding and carpet cleaners and tried not to laugh. Perhaps the sound of quiet, desperate sighs as Twilight Velvet made yet another attempt at 'kindling new life' as she had so poetically put it the last time the pair had been on speaking terms. Or maybe the thudding hooves of Glint as he barrelled along the corridors in an exhausted stupor, crying out for the vile concoction of eggs and sugar and coffee that he swore by to keep his strength up and then swore at when it inevitably failed to work.
For a while Star lay still and waited for the silence to break. There was only the creak of wood and stone as some part of the ancient building settled against the late summer warmth, a piccolo symphony of birdsong in the garden and the slow, steady clunk of the clock over her mantel. Sheets rustled as she rolled to her side, ignoring the persistent itch twixt her nethers – something she knew she would have to see to sooner or later. She peered up at the clock, taking a moment to parse the meaning of its hands against its blurry face.
It was before five in the morning. Of course she would wake up early on a day like this, of course she would. A quiet groan eased out of her mouth as she rolled away from the clock and then twice more to the edge of the bed, which almost as wide as an Ngulube winter hut. The air was warm and still when she flung the sheets back and slid gracelessly to the floor; rather than risk overheating herself, Star forwent donning her morning gown and trotted out into the empty corridors of her stately home. For a while she wandered aimlessly, pondering the silence and its purpose, until her hooves brought her to the terrace at the rear of the house.
Doors and windows along the entire inner wall of the terrace were open wide, perhaps an effort to keep the building cool. In between them, white sheer curtains drifted in a lazy breeze that carried the scent of myrtle and jasmine, while in the garden beyond, the early light of the sun glittered on the dewy grass and deep green of hedges and well-trimmed trees. It was all so rich and verdant. So well-tended. So neat. To the tribal Zebra it would have appeared as nothing less than paradise, but none of it felt true, not even the gently waving clumps of Zebra Grass scattered around the lawns.
Star heard a grumbling voice from beyond her door. After a moment's hesitation she stepped out to look around and was confronted with the sight of the family gardener, Slowpoke, propped up on a bench and reading what looked like yesterday's newspaper. The old donkey was puffing away at the same dirty old pipe he'd carried as long as Star had known him.
His ears swivelled toward Star and he glanced up at her. "G'mornin' your ladyship," he rumbled. "Felt like a stroll?"
"I couldn't sleep," Star replied. She took a breath as a subtle tension made itself felt between her legs. Slowpoke snuffled at the air and then his eyebrows rose a fraction, but a few puffs of his pipe soon masked any other scents that might have been floating about.
"Beggin' your pardon," he said quietly, before setting his newspaper down. "I shall leave you to your business, ma'am."
"Wait, no, it's all right," Star replied. She smiled awkwardly at him. Hesitating a little, watching Star with wary eyes, Slowpoke slowly lifted up the paper again.
For want of something to do in response, Star sat down on the deck and stared out over the garden. They sat together in silence, both waiting for something, though Star was sure neither of them knew what that might be. The newspaper crackled as Slowpoke turned a page; she heard him muttering again, perhaps reacting to a story, or perhaps just merely talking to himself. He tended to do it a lot, she remembered.
After a while, Star cleared her throat. "How is, uh, how's your little one?"
"Dal's doing well, your ladyship, and my thanks to you for askin'," Slowpoke replied. Star cast a sly glance toward him, but he hadn't lifted his gaze from his newspaper. "Already talkin' about a university, so he is."
"That's good," she said. Slowpoke grunted and turned another page.
"Told him he's too young for that talk yet, but the lad's keen, ain't right to discourage him. He'll get plenty of that later. Reckon his mother'd probably want it too, aye. Oh drat it..."
Slowpoke dropped the newspaper and tugged his pipe from his mouth. For a moment he stared into the bowl, then with another grunt he set about it with his hoof, knocking the tobacco this way and that. Star left him to it, preferring the sight of the garden – sterile and artificial as it was. She found herself staring at the Zebra Grass again; its slender stalks, bedecked in slashes of grey-green and brilliant white, stood proud of everything else in the garden and cast their shadows on the rocks at the roots, just as they had across Twilight Velvet's back as she had stretched her body toward Star against the moist, rich soil of the Ngulube tribelands.
"Slowpoke?"
Star turned from the garden to look at the old donkey who tended it. He had the pipe in his mouth, unlit despite his best efforts. A smoking match hung from his hoof; he threw it away and tugged the pipe from his mouth to set it aside for the moment.
"Yes'm?"
"Do you ever..." Star's voice trailed away. She bit her lip as she tried to frame what she wanted to say. "Have you ever wished you could have chosen a different path?"
Slowpoke frowned. "If you're wantin' to redesign the garden—"
"No, no the garden is—no. I mean..." Star lifted her forehooves in a half shrug. "I mean you live here, you've lived in this house for what, twenty-five, thirty years?"
"Something of that order, ma'am," Slowpoke replied.
Star nodded and turned back to look at the garden. "Is that what you wanted? Don't you ever feel like you could have done something different with your life?"
"I wouldn't say so. I have to do my duty by the gardens and I have to do as your ladyships ask, long as they don't ask somethin' daft," said Slowpoke, with something that might have been a chuckle. He lifted his hoof toward his face but then paused, chewing slowly at nothing.
"Duty..."
"Aye. It ain't a bad life really. I get paid, I get fed, I even get my own little vegetable patch. Then there's Dal." Slowpoke paused to scratch his chin. He smiled. "Some as say I might have given up things to get that, but I don't reckon I miss what I never knew. Why d'you ask?"
"Just a stray thought," Star murmured.
Again the silence fell between them, until Slowpoke set to fiddling with his pipe again. He seemed incapable of doing anything to it without a constant, muttered monologue just beyond the threshold of Star's hearing.
Star stood, but as she turned she heard Slowpoke's monologue end. A cloud of cloying sweet smoke drifted around her head. Slowpoke was leaning back on his bench, puffing away at his pipe with a contented smile when Star turned back to him.
"I hear young miss Twilight will be stayin' up at the palace all week this time, to make things more comfortable on your ladyships," he said, tugging at the pipe.
"She is," Star replied, unable to muster much in the way of feeling to the words.
Slowpoke pulled his pipe from his mouth and peered into the bowl for a moment, before clamping his teeth on the stem with a determined sense of finality. "Be a shame when she's gone up there for good. Been a real ray of sunshine around these parts, she has. Now if your ladyship will excuse me—" he stood and adjusted his cap "—there's a few things that'll need seein' to hereabouts."
With practised carelessness, Slowpoke raised a hoof to his forelock before turning to amble away toward the greenhouses at the head of a trail of white smoke. Star took a deep breath of the stuff, letting it fill her lungs, but it wasn't like the camp fires she had gathered around on the veldt, or the eye-stinging cooking pits the Ngulube insisted on digging everywhere they stopped for more than a few minutes. She coughed, and felt foolish for it, and then turned herself back to the dim interior of her home.
Somehow, on the way back to her chambers, Star found herself standing at the door to the Lucent's suite. She knew she must have passed her own rooms to get here; and Scintilla's and Crystal's rooms as well, although it wasn't as if they'd have the time to attend to her when they were so busy with one another. Neither did she wish to endure the near-constant arguments the pair engaged in when they weren't rutting like hormonal teenagers.
She could hear the quiet, rumbling sighs of Lucent as he slept. She had no idea who else might be in there with him, though if she were to guess... Star carefully pushed the door open and stepped through.
The sitting room was naturally deserted. A pair of gowns – both sized for stallions – had been flung over the back of a couch near the window, which meant that Glint was lurking somewhere nearby. The window itself was open, as was the door to the bedroom. Again Star felt a gentle breeze as she moved through, though rather than the scent of garden flowers this one carried the musky stink of sweat and sex. She felt her body respond entirely by itself and shuddered as she tried – and failed – to suppress a frustrated groan.
It took a moment for her eyes to accustom to the dark-shrouded bedroom. Star paused half way from the door to where she knew their enormous communal bed lay and listened carefully for the ponies sleeping on it. They were still asleep. In what little light shone through the curtains Star could see three bodies lying in a tangled heap close to the middle of the bed; Glint and Lucent, with Twilight Velvet sandwiched between them. Star shuffled across the carpet and hopped up onto the mattress without a sound, save for the gentle creak of springs.
The bed's motion wasn't much, but it was enough to rouse Lucent. He twisted his head to peer up at Star with confused eyes, blinking blearily until recognition dawned.
"Oh good morning, Star," he said, keeping his voice low. Twilight Velvet squirmed between his limbs but remained blissfully unaware. "To what do I owe and all that?"
Star's hoof pawed at the sheets. She closed her eyes and pressed her foreleg down to keep it still. "Lucent, I..."
Lucent didn't answer, not right away. He raised his nose, sniffing carefully at the air, and then shook his head. "Star, it's been ten years since you last came to me like this."
"I know."
Star opened her eyes. She found herself looking right into Lucent's face. He was watching her intently, those heart-meltingly beautiful eyes never straying from her own, as if he was trying to stare right into her soul. A prompting somewhere in her belly pushed Star forward until their noses met. She twisted her head to meet his lips, and was rewarded with a quiet sigh as Lucent responded in kind.
But just as she opened her mouth a little wider, Lucent broke the kiss drew his head back. Star nickered as she chased forward after his lips, but Lucent refused to be met. He turned away.
"Lucent!" She nipped at his neck and the roots of his mane, but Lucent refused to look back.
"Star, you don't want this."
Ignoring the cold ball that settled in her gut, Star lay her chin across Lucent's neck and teased at his ear with her lips. "I do," she whispered. "Please."
"Last time you spent a year complaining and then ran off to the other side of the planet."
"It's different this time," Star whispered. She huddled closer to his back, pressing her whole body against his, and swatted her tail against his flank. "Please, Lucent, I need this."
Again she nibbled at his ear. Lucent grunted and rolled over, dislodging Glint and Velvet from his grasp and sending Star careening across the bed. His forelimbs slid across Star's shoulder and his erection fell against the mattress with a resounding thud. "I need, I want," he muttered. "Star, I love you, but I'm not willing to deal with all of that again."
Star shuddered as her mind and body fought one another. She tore her eyes from the sight of Lucent's penis and tried to focus on his face, but the smell of it... she swallowed hard. "Luci, you don't understand—"
"Maybe I don't." He shifted a leg, covering himself, and it was all Star could do not to groan at the sight of taut muscles moving beneath Lucent's shining coat. "Go and see Crincile. She should be awake by now."
Lucent lifted his forelegs from her and shuffled away, leaving Star isolated on the bed. She took a breath, snorting her frustration at his unwillingness. Her gaze fell back along his stomach and hip, then up over to the others. Velvet was blinking owlishly at Star over Lucent's back. Behind her Glint snuffled around, confused as a newborn.
"Luci—"
"No," Lucent said, punctuating the word with a tap of his hoof against the mattress. "I don't know what's changed after all this time, Star. You can't just spring something like this on me, on us, not without discussing it first." He closed his eyes. "We'll talk about it when the season ends."
Star tried to reply, but the words caught in her throat. She found herself looking at Velvet again, looking for sympathy maybe, or even anger. It would have been preferable to the pity she saw there. Well let her feel pity. Star sniffed and rolled out of the bed without a word. She was almost back at the door when she heard a murmured sigh and the familiar creak of mattress springs. If she waited and snuck back she might be able to catch them out, but—
But then she remembered Lucent's face, and his eyes, and imagined the betrayal she'd see there if she tried. Even if she could explain, he'd never understand. The cold pit was back in her stomach. Disgust drove Star from the room. She didn't stop until she reached Crincile's door, nor did she bother knocking before barging through.
Compared to her own suite, which was more akin to a seldom-used office with a bedroom than any sort of living space, Crincile's rooms were open, airy and aside from a neat bookshelf and a few small paintings, almost entirely devoid of anything remotely decorative. It was uncanny how few possessions Crincile kept there, and yet it made a strange sort of sense. For most of the year she split her time between Lucent and Twilight Velvet, retreating to her privacy only when the herd was in season.
She was lounging on a couch when Star entered, reading a book and humming quietly to herself. In fact 'lounging' was probably too polite a way to put it; Crincile lay on her back, with her legs kicked out and spread to the air, while the book hovered over her head. A half-eaten pastry, dripping with honey and chocolate and still steaming slightly as it cooled, lay on a plate close to Crincile's head; the other half was presumably filling her mouth as she chewed away like a contented heifer.
"Oh, it's you," she said, and then swallowed. A page turned in her book, but she wasn't really looking at it any more. "I take it nature's call has made itself felt again? Must be the first time you've matched up with us in years."
"Something like that." Star sidled toward the couch opposite Crincile. As she sat, she tipped her head over to read the title of Crincile's book. A harsh laugh forced its way out of her. "J A Burro's Middle Equestrian? Only you would get yourself soaked reading about pre-classical earth pony dialects."
"It keeps my mind off things," Crincile replied, turning another page. "I did consider the ice-house as well, but I rather think the maids would object. They're still complaining about what you and Twilight did in there."
"That was years ago!"
"And it has entered staff legend." Crincile looked away from her book and smiled at Star. Then she tugged off her reading glasses – and since when had she needed those anyway? – and set the book down at her side. It hit the table with a loud thump. "Still! Now you're here, I don't need to worry about becoming part of that, at least."
The sentence wound around Star's head as she stared at the book. She looked up at Crincile and raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Crincile replied airily, before rolling from the couch. She turned away, not bothering to control the thrashing of her tail as she sauntered toward the bedroom. She paused to throw a sultry glance over her shoulder. "Or are you going to tell me that you've suddenly lost your appetite for sex?"
"Crinkle, you already know how I feel about sex in heat," Star moaned. "I'm only here because Lucent kicked me out!"
"Kicked you out?" The idea seemed to confuse Crincile. She waited for Star to hop from the couch and trot to her side. "Whatever were you doing? Unless you were trying to foal again—oh Star you aren't, are you? After last time?"
"I don't want to." Star gently swung her hoof against the plain carpet. "You wouldn't understand."
"No, I suppose I wouldn't. I never have before." With a shake of her head, Crincile pushed open the bedroom door and walked in ahead of Star. She wasn't making any effort at all to hide her arousal now, walking awkwardly and low-hipped, with her tail almost pointing at the ceiling.
"I'm surprised you aren't locked in there with Lucent and Glint as well," Star said. "Not turning skipper on us are you?"
"Oh it wouldn't be fair for me to take that time from Twilight, considering..." Crincile half-shrugged as she trotted toward a chest at the end of the bed. "Sometimes I like to prove to myself that my relationship with them isn't just a hormonal frenzy."
"And what about with me?"
Crincile rolled her eyes. Her magic tossed back the lid of the chest, but rather than retrieve its contents the same way, Crincile dipped her head and rummaged around with her snout.
"You don't want the honest answer to that," she said, before biting down on something within the chest. With a wordless cry of triumph she lifted a cooler from the chest and held it up for Star's approval. Bright pink and glass-slick, it flopped around between Crincile's lips in the most obscene manner. Star could only shake her head and try not to laugh.
"That's the most disgusting thing I've seen all week," she said as Crincile deposited the cooler on her bed. "You've no idea where that's been."
"Oh, I know exactly where," Crincile breathed, briefly trapping her tongue between her teeth as she glanced over her shoulder at Star. She probably thought it was seductive. Star sighed and dropped her head.
"Fine. Lets get this over with."
She hadn't meant to sound quite so harsh, but—oh who was she kidding. Not herself, that was for sure. Not that it mattered anyway. Star crawled onto the bed and flopped down on her belly with a heavy sigh. While she waited for Crincile to join her, she wriggled her hips into a more comfortable – and exposed – position, completing the act by hiking up her tail. She even gave a wink for good measure.
It was all so very perfunctory. Times past had been that exposing herself like this was... exciting. The chill of the air against heated, moistened flesh, the knowledge of a pony behind her waiting to... to laugh, apparently. Star rolled her ears back to better hear Crincile's coquettish giggles.
She rolled to her side to glare at Crincile. "What's so funny?"
"You! Lying there like a—" Crincile broke out in another fit of giggles. "Like a bloody pillow wrapped around a rubber tube! It's no wonder you hate this so much if you treat it like such a chore."
"Maybe I treat it like a chore because I despise it, ever thought of that?"
"I considered it," Crincile sniffed. She crawled up onto the bed next to Star and cuddled up against her side. The cooler floated over Star's head a moment after, twisting and writhing in Crincile's magic like a tormented snake. "Anyway it doesn't matter. You're taking care of me first."
Star raised her eyebrow at the cooler as it flopped down in front of her face.
"Oh don't be such a sour grape." Crincile sighed. "Your problem is that you're too used to having ponies just jam it in and squirt without having to do anything in return."
"Maybe I like it that way."
"No, I'm pretty sure you don't," Crincile replied. She held up the cooler and waved it in front of Star's nose. "Put this on. Try enjoying yourself for a change."
At first Star refused, turning her nose up at the ugly thing until a withering glare from Crincile shamed her into relenting. "Fine," she grunted and plucked the cooler from Crincile's magic.
"I wonder how Crystal gets hers on," Crincile mused once Star had cinched the straps right around her thighs. "Perhaps that's why she's always arguing with Scintilla."
"Earth ponies are very adept with their tongues. Those two just like the sound of their own voices that much." Star stood up, balancing against the new weight between her legs. "Rather girthy isn't it?" She swung her hips from side to side and frowned as the cooler slapped heavily against her legs.
"It would be, it's modeled after Glint." Crincile looked at Star, as if daring her to respond. "He decided if he couldn't get work for his face then he might as well get work for some other part of his body."
"You mean to tell me there are other mares out there fucking a copy of Glint's cock?" Star peered down between her legs. It did look familiar now she gave it more than a cursory look. "That's perverse!"
"You should see him wearing it," Crincile said, her voice low and husky, right next to Star's ear. Hot moist breath ruffled at the roots of Star's mane and she shivered in spite of herself.
"Perverse," Star repeated, looking up. Crincile giggled and nipped at Star's ear before flopping over on the bed. She took a moment to compose herself on the sheets and turned to peer at Star with sultry, lidded eyes. The frantic twitching of her tail rather ruined the effect.
"Well?"
Star nodded and shuffled forward, trying to ignore the bite of the straps on her hips. Just then Crincile rolled onto her side; her back leg rose up across Star's chest chest, accompanied by the cloyingly thick scent of her arousal.
"Aren't you going to help me get ready, Star darling?"
"You seem ready enough to me," Star grunted. She tried to push Crincile's limb aside, but the mare had to have been working out, for her leg proved impossible to move.
"There's ready, Star, and then there's ready."
Crincile slid her leg across Star's chest until her hoof was ticking at Star's jawline. She was rolling on her back exposing her belly to Star; a pink flush shone beneath Crincile's coat from her teats to her buttocks and across her inner thighs. Star could feel the warmth radiating from her. A musky stench tickled at Star's nostrils. She sniffed at it, her snout moving unprompted toward Crincile's sex. The younger mare was breathing sharp, noisy breaths. She gasped as Star pushed her nose down against moist flesh.
After a few moments Star let a short breath out through her nose. She closed her eyes. "I've not done this to a mare in heat for a long time, you know."
Her voice was muffled by Crincile's flesh, but clear enough given the younger mare's giggled response. Crincile wiggled her hips against Star's face. "Mm, you're missing out," she said. "Anyway, it's like pulling a cart. You never forget how."
"You've never pulled a cart in your life."
Star lifted her head, letting her lips and tongue drag across Crincile's vulva and watching how the younger mare twitched and squirmed at the attention. A salty dribble ran into the corner of Star's mouth; she licked it away and swallowed.
Crincile was staring, glassy-eyed when Star next looked up. She twitched a hoof and her head shook in a tight nod, then bit her lip. Star replied with a nip at Crincile's left teat. She ran her tongue around it, drawing another gasp from Crincile.
"Well I think you're ready," Star grunted, hauling herself bodily across Crincile.
"W-wait, I've not—" Crincile's eyes popped wide as the cooler pressed up against her. She shivered and smiled nervously. "I never did it like this before."
"Neither have I." Star grunted as she tried to position herself.
"Then you'd better be—ow!"
Star drew herself back. She peered down between their bodies and sighed. "Aggie almost had me convinced it was easier this way."
"Maybe if you waited until—ow!" Crincile twisted as the cooler poked her once again. "Star!"
"What?"
"That's—" Crincile shivered again as Star thrust against her. Her hips bucked and the cooler abruptly slid deep inside her body. "Fuck!"
"Such language from such innocent lips," Star murmured. She could almost feel Crincile gripping the cooler. Straps bit into her flesh again as she drew back for another thrust.
"When I said have fun I meant we should take more time about—" Crincile's eyes crossed as Star thrust into her again "—it," she gasped. "Not j-just pound away like a rutting bull!"
"Cute," Star replied, dipping her head toward the cooler's bulbous reservoir. She gripped it in her teeth and bit down hard. Nothing happened. She bit it again, but heard only a quiet hiss of air moving inside.
Star's eyes rolled toward Crincile, who was grinning at her. Leering almost. She seemed very pleased with herself.
"If you'd taken a little time to pay attention instead of just rushing to get it over with," she said, running a hoof along the back of Star's neck, "you might have noticed that I hadn't filled it yet."
Star rolled away, the motion pulling the cooler out of Crincile. It left a slithering trail over Crincile's coat before falling against Star's belly. "Fine. Where do you keep it?"
"Maybe I don't want to tell you," said Crincile. The two rolled to face one another. Crincile's hooves slid around either side of Star's neck, hooking it and trapping a lock of her mane.
Star rolled her head, trying and failing to ignore the gentle but persistent tug at the base of her skull. "I suppose this is your idea of a joke, is it?"
"I don't see why it should be a joke, Star. I just like to take my time about these things."
"I see." Star shuffled out of Crincile's tender embrace and rolled away across the bed. "In other words you'll send me chasing around the room to look for the stuff while you sit there and masturbate yourself into a frenzy."
"Better than hiding in the dark and then getting an intern to cool you off at the last moment," said Crincile. She fixed Star with a steady gaze. "Or the Griffon ambassador's sister."
Star flopped from the bed, only to stumble over the cooler as it flopped beneath her rear legs. Letting out a frustrated snarl, she tore at the straps with her teeth and magic until the cooler fell to the floor with a liquid slap.
"That's what I heard at court, at least," Crincile continued, seemingly oblivious to Star's frantic escape. She sighed and rolled away, and for a moment Star wondered if she might say something more, but the mare remained silent.
"Well—well, fine! So what? They were more than willing, and frankly that's better than I get in this place!"
Star turned just in time to see a pastry floating past her head. She watched its slow arc toward the bed until it disappeared behind Crincile. Rolling her eyes, Star turned and stumbled from the bedroom, back out through the spartan sitting room and into the corridors.
Crincile must have had some sort of sound-proofing installed, for the very moment Star opened the door her ears were assaulted by a succession of hoarsely screamed insults echoing down the corridor. Scintilla and Crystal were awake, and from the sound of things she'd be unlikely to find any help from that quarter.
Once again she paused at the door to Lucent's rooms, but didn't enter. He'd only refuse her. And Twilight would be of no help either, that much was for certain.
A movement at the end of the corridor caught Star's eye. As she turned, a maid froze in the process of loading sheets into a laundry chute. She was young, no more than twenty. Star could see the nervous look in the young maid's big brown eyes and the way her ears fell back the moment Star's gaze fell on her, which meant she was still new enough to the house staff that she hadn't quite abandoned her belief in the horror stories of wanton debauchery that were supposed to take place in such a large herd.
The stories weren't entirely fiction. Star knew more than a few of the so-called nobility who had resorted to using their servants when no member of their herd was available, but the practice had always been viewed with suspicion, as if the mare in question might have somehow lost the trust of her herd.
Star realised she was still staring at the maid. She turned away with a snort, ignoring the now persistent itch in her hindquarters and the accompanying whisper that maybe it wouldn't be so bad, just this once. Call her a faceless intern offering her boss a favour, her treacherous libido said. Pretend it was just another fling in a distant land. A shiver ran down Star's spine; she lengthened her pace to a staggering lope.
The corridor had ended again, though she wasn't sure quite when. Star turned and kicked open the door to her rooms; the frame split, but she didn't pay it any attention as she stumbled through. Lucent's denial and Crincile's incessant teasing had combined somewhere in her body to form a pit of white hot desire, and now it was provoked by images of the poor maid and her slender legs and tight grey rump flitting through Star's mind. She could feel a trail of drool leaking from her mouth and tried her best to suck it back. Her backside and the insides of her thighs were soaked as well, but there was nothing she could do about that just yet.
The room was dim, wrapped in shadow, but she didn't care; she knew her way around it by heart. Panting quietly, she moved to a desk on the far wall, stepping around an abandoned pile of books and giving the curtained window barely a glance as she passed by. A stout cardboard case stood on the desk, grubby and grey. Star tugged it to the floor, not daring to risk the use of her magic lest she blow a hole in the wall. She fumbled with the latch, twisting at it with her hoof and then her teeth, until it flew back with a loud snap.
The case opened easily. Star nosed around its interior until her lips found the webbing of a cooler, tangled around a half-empty bottle of Velvet Petals' Summer Dew. The liquid within moved sluggishly, rolling from one end of the bottle to the other when she tugged it free of the straps. She held the bottle up to the light, and then the cooler, and shook her head.
"Reduced to this," she muttered as she looked around the room. Her gaze narrowed to the bedpost, standing proud and tall and—Star grit her teeth and turned away from it before the lurid metaphors could get started.
With her eyes planted firmly on the carpet, Star flung the cooler over the post. It was the work of moments to tighten the straps and fill the thing. She dropped the bottle to the floor and turned reluctantly to face her contrived lover. The cooler hung slack, and inconveniently high for her purposes, but it would have to do. Again Star sighed as she turned and manouvered her hindquarters against the bedpost.
It was higher than she'd expected. Star stretched up her legs, the stretched up on just one, lifting her hips as far as they would reach. She grasped the cooler bulb in her magic and pressed herself against the cooler shaft, chasing it around until it slid into her with a wet slap. Her legs were both swinging free of the ground now. Star walked her forelegs backward, grunting at the effort of holding her body aloft, until she felt a little more secure. She took a breath and tried to squeeze the bulb with her magic, only to find her energy draining rapidly.
With a wordless cry Star twisted her neck to bite at the bulb. At the same time as her teeth found it, her body twisted and slid from the cooler; she fell to the floor with a muffled screech, landing on her back, while the cooler emptied itself over her legs and belly. Its task complete, the cooler unwound its straps and fell on Star in an unceremonious heap of rubber and webbing.
Panting at the unexpected exertion, Star kicked a frustrated hoof out at the bed, but only managed to catch her hock on the unyielding frame. "Fuck!"
She drew the leg back and cradled it in her forelegs, hissing at the pain as if that would somehow make it leave her alone. It was little wonder she didn't hear the door open.
"Such language..."
Star's jaw wound so tight she could almost hear her teeth creak. She forced her teeth apart enough for the spittle-soaked bulb fall to the ground and twisted her head back to glare at the open door. Crincile's smug face smiled back at her.
"Come to gloat at my misery?" Star scrambled to her hooves and turned to face the door.
As she stepped into the room, Crincile smiled and shook her head. A maid bearing a pitcher of wine and a plate of snacks on her back trotted in right after, whilst keeping her eyes carefully away from the tangled mess of webbing and black rubber and the slimy puddle at Star's hooves. After depositing her burden on a table close to the bed, the maid dropped a perfunctory curtsey and scampered from the room, not quite managing to hide her giggles as the door closed behind her.
Crincile set to pouring them both a glass of wine. Somehow she'd managed to chew her way through one of the pastries already; she washed the remainder down with a gulp of wine from one glass and held the other out to Star. At first Star only glared at it, hoping the drink would evaporate by sheer force of her will, but eventually she relented and seized the glass from Crincile's magic.
Wine splashed across the carpet as Star downed most of the glass in a single swallow. Tanin and sour age caught at her throat, and she couldn't hide the neck-twisting grimace they provoked.
"You know, I sometimes wonder why some entrepreneurial pony hasn't invented some sort of solo cooler for ponies like you," Crincile said, watching as Star carefully sniffed at the remains of her wine.
"What do you mean by that?"
Crincile held out the pastries to Star, who refused the offer with a tight shake of her head. She shrugged and took one for herself. "Maybe I don't mean anything. Maybe it's just a convenience for a pony on the move."
"But now I suppose you'll try and turn that around to tell me how I'm denying the pure spirituality of the act or something similarly overemotional," Star grumbled. She peered into her wine. A tired pony stared back at her, tired and old. She tipped her head back and swallowed the rest, then tossed her glass aside. "Sentimental rubbish."
"I wouldn't dream of it, darling." Crincile's horn glowed as she retrieved Star's glass for a refill.
"Well then what? I know you're trying to draw something out of this, otherwise you'd be back in your room, seducing books and stuffing your face with sweets."
The glass flew back to Star, but this time, rather than letting Star grasp and potentially spill it, Crincile placed it carefully on the bedside cabinet.
"I've never really understood this dislike you have towards all this. I'm given to believe you used to enjoy it enough that you and Twilight would spend the better part of the week doing nothing else." Crincile sauntered around the bed, examining the haphazard arrangement of books in the shelves that lined nearly every open space. She paused to peer at one, running her hoof down the spine, before moving on. "And yet now here we are, with you so desperate to avoid any sort of sex in heat that you'd rather get drunk and stuff your nethers with ice."
"I'm not a skipper."
"I never said you were."
Crincile's slow circuit of the room brought her back to the window. She placed her glass down on the sill and turned to look at Star again. Her eyes fell to the puddle at Star's hooves and she smiled sadly.
"Besides, it's quite obvious you aren't. Skippers enjoy it, in their own way. You've turned your heat into some sort of terrible ordeal."
Star kicked the cooler away and stepped out of the sticky puddle. She stared at the wine Crincile had poured for her and then carefully picked it up with a hoof. She swirled the wine around until her reflection was lost in the eddying sparks of light dancing on the wine's black skin.
Crincile shuffled up to her side and nuzzled at Star's cheek. "It doesn't have to be that way."
"You just keep telling yourself that," Star muttered, before taking a swallow of her wine. Her throat burned at its bitter touch; she shuddered, her head twisting involuntarily. Star set her glass down. There was no pleasure in the wine and little more in the company, not with that dull, shivering insistence burning in the crook of her thighs.
Crincile didn't respond except to move away, leaving a chill of air where her body had warmed Star's side. It was so easy, she thought, to drive ponies away. Star suppressed her instinctive response to lean after Crincile and chase the comforting closeness she had lost. Instead she closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable sound of the bedroom door as Crincile left.
Rather than any sound, however, instead she felt the warmth of a pony's breath on her leg, just above her cutie mark, where the sweat she had worked up trying to get off had soaked into her coat and left her skin sensitive to the air. Star tipped her head a little, rolling her ears back to focus on Crincile's quiet breathing.
"What are you—" Star's body jerked and she let out a yelp as Crincile's teeth pinched her buttock.
"Proving a point," Crincile murmured. She laid a kiss on Star's left thigh, then the right, before drawing her lips in tiny little nibbles to the crease between Star's thigh and her teats.
Star squeezed her eyes shut. She could feel Crincile's tongue sliding back and forth just shy of her right nipple; her face, pressed up beneath Star's labia, had to be drenched. "I don't know what point it is you think you're p-proving."
Even had Crincile wanted to answer, it would have been difficult to make herself heard over Star's laboured breathing. Instead she brought her mouth up around Star's other buttock, alternately kissing and tugging with her teeth at the short coat there. Moist breath tickled beneath Star's dock as Crincile moved her head away, before resting her chin on Star's hips.
She turned her head just enough to spy Crincile's smug face out of the corner of her eye. A warm patch was forming on Star's back, where the fruits of her own arousal dripped steadily from Crincile's snout.
"So you've made your point, whatever it is. Are you going to fuck me or not?"
Crincile's smile faded a little, but then returned wider than before. "No. At least not yet."
"Twilight never said no."
Crincile moved forward, sliding her chin along Star's spine to the withers, where she lifted her head to nuzzle at Star's ear. "Now, why do you think that is?"
"Because she's a doormat!"
"What an interesting statement."
"Oh don't you start." Star's lip curled and she jerked her head away from Crincile's ministrations.
Wordlessly Crincile laid her head across Star's back. Her horn, already casting fitfully by itself, surged bright and golden as she lifted the cooler from the floor at Star's hooves. She gave it an experimental shake until a gobbet of sluggish liquid oozed out of the tip.
"I think that should be enough," she murmured.
"What are you—" Star let out an undignified squeak as the cooler's straps snaked around her lower body. She looked back at Crincile in time to see the mare fastening the last clasp on a strap below Star's tail, holding it uncomfortably high in the air.
"Perfect," Crincile said, with a lingering kiss on Star's rump. She scrambled onto the bed in front of Star and lay down on her belly.
Whatever protest Star had been about to make faded from her mind. Perhaps it was the familiarity of their surroundings, the books strewn everywhere. The smell of herself on the bedclothes. Perhaps the scent of Crincile's arousal, or the way Star's tail was held aloft and her snatch exposed to the chilling air. Or perhaps Crincile's lust-filled eyes, now cold and imperious and accepting of no dissent as they focused on Star's face.
Her body moved by itself. Star crawled onto the bed, nosing briefly around Crincile's thighs before crawling atop of her. Crincile rolled her head around to nip playfully at Star's shoulder.
Star eased the cooler against Crincile. "What's to stop me cooling you off the moment it's inside you?"
Wordlessly Crincile flopped her head against the pillow; sideways, so her uncovered eye still held Star in its gaze. She twisted beneath Star, bucking her hips insistently against Star's belly while her tail thrashed at Star's leg. The mix of desperation and innocence was actually quite endearing, though Star could only roll her eyes at the display.
"Don't say I didn't warn you," she said, drawing herself forward. The cooler slid easily into Crincile. She sighed; or perhaps it was a moan. Star couldn't tell. It didn't matter anyway, she'd be moaning soon enough. Smirking, Star turned again to the little bulb at her side, but just as she opened her mouth to catch it, the bulb was enveloped in a shimmering golden glow. She watched as it snaked into the air, then turned to look at Crincile.
The mare was grinning at her again, with her tongue just sticking out between her teeth. Mischief danced in her eyes as she ducked her head down low, never taking her gaze from Star.
"My my, you certainly are full of surprises today," said Star.
"Aren't I though?"
Crincile slid her body backward beneath Star, drawing more of the cooler into herself. She waited. When Star didn't reciprocate she bucked her hips and Star, taking the hint, drew back and thrust against her.
"You can't deny that it's more pleasurable this way," she sighed.
"Pleasurable for you maybe," Star shot back, though without much conviction. She wasn't about to let on about the rather interesting way the cooler's straps were tugging at her hindquarters. Wherever Crincile had picked up the idea to strap it under her tail...
A tightening tremor gripped at her abdomen. Not quite an orgasm. Star grunted and shifted against Crincile's suddenly overwarm rump, pressing her thighs and hips as close as she could while she waited for the sensation to pass. Crincile's body shifted beneath her, dragging the cooler and its harness around Star's hips with unrelenting force. Star grit her teeth and pressed her face into Crincile's mane as she sought to escape the tension drawing at her whole body.
How long she remained like that, Star wasn't sure. It couldn't have been more than a moment. Then she heard Crincile's magic surge and the squeak of her cooler emptying itself. It was a very annoying sound she thought, while Crincile's body tensed and shuddered beneath her. Perhaps she ought to get herself a new one.
Crincile let out a quiet little moan, barely more than a squeak itself, before collapsing in a shapeless, gasping huddle on the sheets. The cooler bulb bounced on the back of Star's head and rolled down the side of her neck, and Crincile gave a final, languorous sigh, before curling to nose lethargically at Star's left hoof.
"You see?" she murmured, and smiled. "I could fall asleep now."
Star's ears sprang upright. "Don't you dare! You haven't finished me yet!"
"Don't worry your silly head, Star. I just need a moment."
"It would have only taken a moment if you hadn't—" Star's eyes crossed at an abrupt bloom of heat in her abdomen. Crincile had twitched her hips, tightening the cooler's grip around Star's nethers and leaving her gasping for breath.
Crincile nibbled at Star's leg. "What was that, darling? Oh would you mind pulling it out? I'm feeling a little stuffed."
The first response that came to Star's mind might well have resulted in a black eye. She bit down on it and carefully extricated herself from around Crincile's body. The cooler fell against Star's leg as she slipped to the side, spreading a warm slick against her coat that mingled with the foaming sweat of her thigh and belly.
Star tried to extract herself from the straps, but the best her magic could manage was to spit and fizz from the tip of her horn in a fairly lacklustre display of colourful sparks. Cursing under her breath, she turned to gnaw at the most visible clasp.
A restraining hoof settled on her neck. The strap slipped from Star's teeth and she fell back against Crincile's belly with a heartfelt groan.
"You're always so tense," Crincile said, as her magic went to work on the straps.
"You'd be tense too if you had to face the prospect of losing your mind every time you had sex," Star shot back.
"Not every time. I've heard you and Lucent in the wee hours, giggling away like two teenagers who just figured out where all the bits go. Just because your orgasms are more intense in heat—" She paused as Star snorted, and then shook her head. "I know you enjoy it when you want to. I've been there, remember?"
Star didn't answer right away. Instead she watched the cooler swinging around in the air while Crincile carefully refilled it, and wondered just when the innocent and timid filly Lucent married had grown into this wanton mare.
Crincile rolled away. The now full cooler gurgled menacingly as she laid it between her legs and set about threading the straps around her – to Star's eyes – delightfully perky rear.
"And not just with ponies," Crincile added, before rolling over again to gaze at Star. "What was it like?"
Star looked up. "What was what like?"
"The griffon ambassador's daughter."
"You're still stuck on that?" Star frowned and scratched at her side. "Violent. They don't see much difference between mating and fighting, or at least she didn't. Spent most of the evening wrestling to see who would be on top. I was worried she was going to gut me toward the end. In fact I've still got a rather pretty scar on my belly."
"Really?" Crincile's magic gave one last tug at the straps around her body while she leaned over Star with a curious expression. "I've never seen it."
"You never get that far up, dear," Star replied. She hiked up her leg and rolled onto her back, exposing the full length of her abdomen. For a moment she stared at it, wondering when she'd become so pudgy and out of shape. Then she traced a hoof from just below her navel and up to her chest. Crincile crawled up until her snout was almost touching Star's coat. "Around there somewhere. It's hard to see it now."
"I certainly can't," Crincile replied, looking up at Star. Then, abruptly, she snaked her tongue along the line Star had traced and shifted her weight forward until she was hanging over Star's barrel. "Perhaps I'll feel it instead," she cooed, and planted her hooves firmly on either side of Star's head.
"What are you—"
Star's exclamation was cut off by a forceful, tongue-filled kiss, one that she found she was annoyingly eager to return. Yet just as she leaned into it, Crincile pulled away, leaving Star gasping and reaching for her lips.
"Turnabout," said Crincile, "is fair play."
She lowered her head again, but not for another kiss. Instead Crincile's snout brushed past Star's cheek and along her neck, while her lips and teeth tugged and teased at Star's coat. The cooler twitched rhythmically against Star with each shift of Crincile's head, tormenting her with vague insinuations of a pleasure just beyond her reach.
Crincile's tongue snaked toward Star's ear. With a frustrated grunt, Star twitched her head away. "Are you going to stick it in or what?"
"Eventually." Crincile slid down to rest her head on Star's barrel. "I think I might try this with Lucent," she continued, with a vacant sort of smile and a distant look in her eyes.
As she spoke the room was filled by a fresh wave of bitter musk, and not all of it from Crincile either. Star twitched her legs, unable to ignore the sticky wetness binding her coat to Crincile's as their bodies pressed closer together. Another hot shiver coursed through Star's body. She tried to roll, kick her hips in the air, slide herself across the sheets, anything to sate the incessant demands of her body as it sought the release denied it. But Crincile kept moving, teasing with every nip and bite until she reached Star's chin and then her lips. Star wrapped her forelegs around Crincile's neck and hauled her close, muffling a lustful moan against Crincile's mouth.
They broke the kiss. Crincile giggled, snuffling hot breath against Star's jaw. "See what I mean?"
Star gasped. She closed her eyes and took a breath, but couldn't steady her pounding heart.
"So exposed," Crincile murmured, before running a hoof along Star's side and up across her belly. "You were probably on your back when she did it too."
"Crinkle..."
"And she was clawing at your belly," Crincile continued, her voice barely a whisper. She lifted her body; the cooler pressed against Star's labia as if it had a mind of its own. "With another claw deep inside you. Or her beak perhaps."
"I don't think—"
Crincile's hips twitched. The cooler thrust deep into Star, drowning her demands beneath a wave of urgent lust. She gasped and groaned at the sudden pressure within her, while her hips bucked spasmodically against Crincile's body. Crincile thrust once, twice, while her legs awkwardly sought purchase against she sheets. Then Star heard the flare of magic and felt its warm glow at her side.
Star lifted her head enough to see Crincile's magic lifting the cooler bulb. Her own magic was useless already. She reached out with her hoof, but the bulb moved away before she could touch it. When she looked up, Crincile was smiling at her.
"If you haven't figured it out yet, Star, you aren't in charge right now."
Star's head flopped against the pillows. "Really. And what brought on this sudden attack of will?"
"There's nothing sudden about it," Crincile replied, swinging her hips and driving the cooler just that little deeper. She nuzzled at Star's neck and jaw. "You've just not been paying attention."
Star fought feebly against the mind-numbing pulses of frustrated pleasure as her whole body wrapped around the shaft, anticipating its release. She tried to match her motion to Crincile, the better to avoid any stimulation, but that only prompted cooing approval from her mate.
"You might think I march in step with the rest of this herd. Be a good mare, do as I'm told—" Crincile drew back and thrust into star again "—and I get to fuck the prize stallion. That might work for the others, but not for me. Not more than once at any rate."
Star laughed, but her mirth was soon reduced to a panting moan. She gasped against Crincile's neck and licked her lips. "So your mother gets what she wanted after all, is that it?"
"Certainly not! I rather like having you here, and unlike you I was paying attention. You want to know what I learned?" Smiling, Crincile leaned down to Star's ear and whispered. "I don't need to control this herd. I just need to control you."
She raised herself over Star and gave the cooler one last thrust. The bulb had fallen between them, lying on Star's belly and looking or all the world like a seed pod about to burst. Crincile's magic lifted it into the air. She smiled again.
"And it doesn't even have to hurt. After all, there are far more effective means to ensure your cooperation."
The bulb collapsed in Crincile's magic, and then Star's mind exploded.
Some time later, when the stars had faded and the echoes had ceased to bounce from the walls, Star and Crincile lay quietly atop the sheets, neither quite willing to let go of the other. It felt like a memory or a dream, one filled with the stench of earth and sweat and the heat of sated lust. And love, if she had to admit it. But it wasn't the memory of Twilight that lay in Star's grasp, or the lover who had last broken her body's grip on her mind so thoroughly.
Star grumbled a voiceless protest as Crincile shifted beneath her.
"It's really not fair, is it," she said.
Star grunted and tried to open her eyes. Outside her window, the sun was little more than an orange glow on the distant towers of Canterlot. She swallowed and wet her lips. "What isn't?"
"Biology," Crincile sighed. "We spend almost a quarter of the year ravening after orgasms that we can only get with a stallion or a dildo and a bucket of seawater. Donkeys barely even notice when they're in heat. I bet Zebra don't either—"
"They don't. They invented those insane cyclic calendars just so they could keep track of it all."
"See? Out of all our cousins we're the only ones it happens to. Not fair at all."
"And you wonder why I hate it."
Crincile huffed and then laughed quietly. "You hate everything, Star. Besides, it might not be fair, but that doesn't mean we can't make the best of it."
They lay still. Star didn't answer. Instead she closed her eyes and sighed into Crincile's neck. With the warmth and the distant rustle of the trees, she could almost believe she wasn't in the house, but far away and safe from the world. It was comfortable. Slowly, with the drumming of Crincile's heart in her ears, Star let herself drift to sleep.
At some point in the last few years, Star had come to the realisation that anyone looking at her life from the outside would believe that she had reached the pinnacle of her career. That she had made it in some indefinable way. Certainly, to look at her now, standing amidst the great and good of Canterlot Society, it would be difficult to think otherwise.
She was rich, as such things were generally measured. Famous even outside the field in which she worked. Her career spanned decades and had only ever been drawn inexorably forward and upward by circumstance and fate.
And she was powerful, perhaps more powerful than many of the ponies around her. They had lands and tenants they could boss around, and they could bend the ear of officials in the court for trinkets and favour, but what was that compared to Star, who consorted with princes and kings in distant lands, who had one of the most powerful noble houses in Equestria in her harness, and who had once cheeked herself a drink from Princess Celestia's private – and secret – supply?
"Presenting the Lady Long Sufferance."
Wealth, power, ponies at her beck and call and a beautiful stallion at her side. By any rational measure she had achieved every goal a pony in her position might have striven for.
If only she had wanted any of it.
"... for services to the Crown and the State..."
When her career had begun, she had expected it to come to a steady conclusion as she scratched around in ancient treasure troves, amidst the ruins of former splendour, surrounded by innumerable relics of the past.
"... recognition of achievements in the furthering of friendly relations with Equestria's allies..."
She hadn't expected them to be talking.
"... grant you now this title..."
Ponies in the ancient and not-so-ancient vestments of station and privilege stood all around Star – or, in the case of one rather overstuffed Earl to her front, slouched drunkenly against the withers of a commendably stoic stallion. Earl of Barleycroft, she vaguely recalled, or some similar place close to the border with the Griffon Empire.
Star liked Griffons. They were an airborne species that nevertheless spent most of their time on the ground and hoarded the spoils of their civilisation in large, dry caverns with carefully sealed entrances, which made studying their history as pleasurable as her other associations with them – the thrill of pursuit, the sensation of the hunter's claw at her back and the beak at her belly... for a younger mare seeking the novelty of excitement and danger, they could be a great deal of fun.
Some days Star wondered how different her life might have been had she chosen to specialise in Griffon history. Certainly it would have been less muddy. More entertaining. Easier... but ultimately mundane. Barring some lucky pony stumbling across one of the few missing and likely non-existent artefacts of Griffon myth, there was little to be truly discovered about them, which made the entire realm of Griffon studies predictable and comfortable. Not even the frisson of exotic sex would alleviate that for long.
She shook her head, returning her focus to the front of the room, where the oh so great and noble Prince Blueblood stood at the foot of a gilded throne, while an usher droned out the titles and achievements of each pony that approached him. Of course he didn't do anything, but rather stood and watched while each supplicant was smacked about the withers with a dull-edged sword and sent away wearing whatever shiny bauble the Crown had deigned to award them.
Nearly an hour she had stood in this grand old hall, surrounded by pomp and faded finery. The only saving grace was the presence of Lucent at Blueblood's side to play a role Star had never quite understood, standing erect and stony faced as any guard – and in contrast to the majority of the males present, entirely unclothed. Even the Prince, powerful and as he might otherwise be, still wore the stylised yoke and collar that was customary for a male at an event like this. Though so abstracted by time that it looked like little more than the collar and shirt front of a tux, nevertheless it signified, however remotely, some tenuous level of subservience to the mares arrayed before him. To declare otherwise would be scandal.
A quiet, wheedling sigh reached Star's ears. She glanced to her partner; Scintilla was standing just close enough to appear warmly connected to Star without actually touching her in any way. In a sense it was a good thing, given the way she was vibrating. Star leaned her head toward Scintilla to whisper in her ear.
"Too much coffee, my dear?"
"You didn't tell me this was going to take so long," Scintilla hissed, before quickly ducking behind the carefully quiffed green shield of her mane. A mare ahead of them half-turned at the sound and muttered something to the stallion at her side.
Even Lucent seemed to notice, glancing briefly in Star's direction with a puzzled smile. Star tried to smile back at him, but he had already turned his attention to the next supplicant. She settled for levelling a stern glare at anyone who was still watching.
"I'm sure I mentioned it," Star murmured, before pulling her shoulders tight and taking a long, deep breath. "In fact, as I recall, you insisted that spending several hours in the same room as a bunch of knights and barons and so on would be a marvelous networking opportunity."
"I thought that would be the after party, not—" Scintilla waved a hoof at the crowd. "Not this. There are far more productive things I could be doing right now!"
"I don't see why you have to be so angry about it, dear."
"I'm not angry—"
A guard close to the dais cleared his throat and glared in their direction. Scintilla's ears dropped at the sound and she looked away for a moment.
"I'm bored, Star. All this standing around when I could be out there doing something. It's driving me crazy!"
"You aren't the only one," Star said, taking her eyes from Lucent. "I haven't had a decent fuck in days."
"Do you ever think about anything other than sex?"
"Well, I have been thinking about my diet recently. All this starch can't be good for my figure." Star held a hoof to her chest. "And I do rather like to think that all the effort I put into helping Cinnamon preen has strengthened the bond of friendship between us. I'm told that's the in thing these days."
"The fixation you have with that little featherbrain—" Scintilla's mouth snapped shut like a dog snatching at a fly, so hard that Star was sure her teeth cracked. She glanced at the nearby Meridarch of Typhon, resplendent in her sweeping blue and white robes, then lowered her voice to be sure the pegasus noble wouldn't hear. "I know the real reason you let her in was because you're fixated on wings."
"We all have our little idiosyncrasies, dear, no need to be so bullish about mine," Star murmured. She cast a smile at a dignitary passing down the aisle to their right. "I let her in because she keeps Luci happy and she's good in bed. And yes, I won't deny she's rather pleasant to look at."
"You mean she reminds you of—"
Scintilla gasped, her words forgotten as a barely visible web of magic caressed her nethers. She twitched, blinking furiously, while a her a blush rose across her cheeks that was even visible beneath the bright red of her coat. Star leaned close to her and smiled again.
"I'd think carefully before finishing that sentence, Scintilla my darling. We wouldn't want to see you embarrassed by any sort of public display, would we?"
Scintilla glared at Star from the corner of her eye. The pair held each other's gaze, neither willing to look away for even a moment, until the first hints of arousal rose through the atmosphere between them. Star's smile widened just a little more.
"You're just proving me right," Scintilla said through gritted teeth.
Star's magic briefly tightened around Scintilla's sex before she let it dissipate, leaving Scintilla breathing heavily and shifting uncomfortably from hoof to hoof. None of the crowd around them seemed to have noticed, or if they had they were maintaining a diplomatic lack of interest.
"You wouldn't dare carry it through anyway," Scintilla muttered as she struggled to bring her breathing under control. She rubbed at her flushed cheeks, that even her bright red coat had difficulty hiding. "You'd be dragging your reputation down with mine if you did. Besides, what's to stop me doing the same to you?"
"The fact that you would ask that instead of just doing it."
Star polished a hoof against her tunic and sighed as she examined it. For some reason she'd let herself be talked into a hooficure, which meant that now every tiny little scuff and speck of dirt glared out at her like a mortal wound. It was no wonder society mares walked with such peculiar gaits.
She turned her attention from her own hooves to Scintilla's, peeking out from beneath a the arms of a severe, body-hugging suit-jacket. Until then she had never really paid all that much attention, but thinking back Star realised it was a rare day she saw her partner without shoes of some sort. Usually black leather, which was unusual enough, and ringing with silver in the soles whenever she walked. They seemed subtly modelled after something Princess Luna would wear.
"Besides," she said, as a rare stallion marched across to the foot of the throne. "It's not as if I'd be above that sort of thing to begin with." She moved up against Scintilla's shoulder and let a little magic flow into her horn. "At least if the newspapers are to be believed..."
Scintilla turned to Star with wide, pinprick eyes. "Are you seriously—"
"Rather warm in here, isn't it?"
Star waited while Scintilla opened and closed her mouth, but then the younger mare's jaw tightened quite suddenly and she fixed Star with another narrow-eyed glare.
"You're disgusting."
She stepped away, nearly bumping into a pony behind them. The mare muttered something under her breath.
"I actually believed it, that's the worst part."
"Oh please, did you think I'd really do something that ridiculous?"
"It's only a matter of time," Scintilla muttered. "Why couldn't you have stayed home and let Crincile come instead?"
"Really? I recall you once told me that you thought talking to Crinkle was as boring as watching grass grow."
"Perhaps, but at least she's not obsessed with sex."
Star raised her eyes to the vaulted ceiling."I wouldn't be too sure about that."
"Well... well at least she doesn't shove it in your face all the damn time!"
A laugh very nearly escaped Star, though she managed to turn it into a discreet cough before Scintilla really noticed. A few of the surrounding ponies had noticed, however, and were either throwing Star and Scintilla some very dirty looks, or putting on a show of diverting their attention elsewhere.
"You wouldn't say that if you saw what we were up to last night," she murmured, turning her full gaze to Scintilla once more. The other mare sneered and rolled her eyes.
Just then the room filled with the quiet tinkling of bells. Scintilla's ears flexed at the sound; she stretched her neck and blew into her cheeks.
"Finally we can get to the good part."
The crowd relaxed all at once, shuffling and stomping hooves against the carpet as they stepped out of statuesque poises – or, in the Earl of Barleycroft's case, woke up. The Prince was bowing to a few remaining dignitaries and chattering amiably with Lucent, whose cheerfully broad smile was almost believable.
"I'd just managed to lock my knees as well," said Star, to no one in particular.
Despite that thought she wasted no time in seeking out the buffet at the sides of the hall, where stallions paraded and tossed their manes at one another as they waited for their mares to finish whatever important business kept them penned close to the prince. Scintilla had disappeared already, though Star could hear the squeak of her laughter. She briefly caught sight of a bright red rump disappearing into a crowd near the throne.
While she eyed the crowd, Star loaded up a plate from the buffet. She didn't pay much attention to what she took, having always preferred quantity over quality, though she was careful to avoid adding too many sweets. For some reason the desserts at buffets like this always disagreed with her... or perhaps it was the company, who seemed to believe that being called noble meant that they actually were something other than a bunch of preening idiots with too much money and very little self-control.
Lucent excepted, of course.
Probably.
A last tiny tomato dropped on Star's plate, capping off the newest monument to the gourmand's pursuit, and she turned to survey the crowd once more. Lucent and the Prince were still talking animatedly, while the few hangers-on that hadn't got bored with whatever they were discussing milled around the Prince's backside, muttering to one another and laughing riotously at his jokes.
Star felt a pony huddling up to the table and turned, briefly, to find no less than the newly minted Baroness Long standing beside her, a plate of green salad hovering discreetly close to the table.
"Well then. How does it feel to be part of the idle rich?"
"I'll let you know when I can actually be idle," Long replied, before taking a bit of her salad. She chewed thoughtfully at the greens and then swallowed with a grimace. "Though I must say, if the food is anything to go by, it's probably not all that much to talk about. I would have expected the palace to provide something fresher."
"They keep the best stuff for Celestia's own kitchen, I'd wager," said Star. "It's not so bad though. I can remember times in Zebrica when I would have killed for a plate of lettuce, even if it was limp and dangling as Blueblood over there."
"What—" Long turned to look at Blueblood and Lucent, still talking near the throne. Her gaze fell to a spot between the Prince's hind legs; a moment later she raised her eyebrows. "I say, that's a rather public display isn't it? I wonder what brought that on?"
"Oh he's been eyeballing my Luci for months, but I suppose it must have graduated beyond that recently," Star said. She flicked her tail and laughed quietly. "I mean look at him, he's actually trying to be pleasant to somepony other than his own reflection!"
Baroness Long's ears rolled toward Star, though her gaze was firmly fixed on the prince. "There are a few ponies who might do well to emulate that."
Star snorted, but held her tongue for the moment. She'd had enough verbal sparring matches with Long to know when she was outclassed. Instead, she opted to tuck into a rather tasty lump of cheese that had managed to hide amongst the leafy greens.
"I'm surprised that the Marquessa de Botici chose not to attend this event," said Long, once a servant had poured her a cup of tea. She held it up to her nose to inhale the curling steam that rose above it.
"Marquessa? Oh, Crinkle, yes..." Star sighed and shook her head. "Scintilla over there put on a big song and dance about networking opportunities, but really I think she just wanted to get a close look at Blueblood's cock."
"That seems a little gauche," Long replied, turning to watch Scintilla shuffle through the crowd around the Prince.
"Proactive is what she'd call it. I'm fairly certain the only reason she ever herded with us was for the prestige. If she thinks she's got a chance with Blueblood you can be sure she'll jump herds first chance she gets."
Long frowned. "Just like that? Seems rather disloyal if you ask me."
"Well, yes, but when you consider that she tried to kick me out a few years back..."
"I can't imagine what brought that on," said Long. She snapped at a lettuce leaf and frowned as she chewed it. "Still, I wouldn't have expected you to come along. This sort of affair seems rather more up her Ladyship's alley."
"Well it's not like I have much of a choice either way. Lead mare, close friend getting invested. Short of already being in another country there's not much I could do or say to avoid it."
"No time to arrange a convenient expedition?" Long grinned at Star's scowl and shook her head. "Well never mind, there's bound to be something else you can avoid instead, hmm? Oh speaking of avoiding things, there's a pony I've been trying to arrange for you to meet for a little while."
Star grimaced. "More of your connections, Long?"
Shaking her head and laughing, Baroness Long turned away from Star without an answer. She dropped her plate on the table and trotted away to meet a knot of ponies at the far side of the hall, leaving Star alone with her salad.
Departing ponies seemed to be a constant feature of Star's life. With little to do she returned to watching Lucent and Prince Blueblood, who had apparently found enough self-control to pack himself away again. Or perhaps he'd had to speak to a mare. Perhaps even Scintilla? Star chuckled at the thought of how that conversation would go.
A pony loudly cleared her throat at Star's side, startling Star out of her reverie. She turned, one ear still aimed at Lucent, and found Long waiting again, this time with company and bearing a steaming cup of tea.
"I thought you'd buggered off and left me," said Star, whilst watching Long's companion. A bright blue forelock couldn't quite hide the mare's curious examination in return.
"Sadly not," Long replied. "Permit me to introduce Baroness Saved, Permanent Secretary to the Home Office and shortly to chair the Independent Parliamentary Oversight Committee."
"Delighted, I'm sure," Star murmured. She looked the young unicorn up and down, careful not to let her eyes linger too long on Baroness Saved's rump. "You look familiar. Have I seen you somewhere before?"
"No, but you may be thinking of my niece. Moondancer? She's a friend of your daughter from the School." The newcomer held out her hoof. "Baroness Penny Saved, though I'd prefer if you called me just Penny."
"My secretary is called Penny," Star muttered, but managed to smile as she tapped her hoof against Saved's. She'd had a lot of practice. "Well if you know my daughter then I assume you know the sort of things she gets up to these days."
"Indeed. I'm given to understand she'd doing rather well for herself, though I regret I haven't had much opportunity to speak to her," Penny said, drawing a plate of food toward herself. "I'd hoped she might be taking up a position amongst the Court, but it appears for the moment she has other concerns."
Star nodded whilst idly nosing around her salad. "I'm still not convinced she realises what she's let herself in for."
"By all accounts she seems quite confident in her affairs. Forthright, even." Penny smiled and dipped her head toward the windows on the far wall and the city beyond. "Unfortunately she might have provoked something of a minor governmental crisis. There are rumblings at Silverstone Court about some sort of inquiry."
"What would they even investigate?"
"Oh heaven alone knows," said Penny. "Chances are it's some marginal with a chip on her shoulder trying to make a name for herself before she's kicked out at the next election. Now there would be a pony letting herself in for more than she realises."
Lady Long, raised her eyebrows. "Indeed?"
"I shouldn't gossip," Penny relied, though the smirk on her face told how little she agreed with the sentiment. "Lets just say a senior official at the Home Office might be less than keen on certain predilections being brought to light at the wrong moment."
"Scandalous," Star said, rolling her eyes. "I suppose next you'll be telling me that the sky is blue and Celestia's got a fat arse."
Penny laughed, briefly trapping her tongue between her teeth. Why was it that any mare who spent more than a few minutes around Princess Celestia did that? "No," she said quietly. "It's actually rather mundane. The mare in question fell in love with a Roe Buck and things got a little passionate. The Home Office has already arranged a few months sabbatical for when she can't hide the foal any more, and then there's the question of how they'll be arranging their herd. It's all very hush-hush."
"She's managed to breed with a deer? I didn't think that was possible!"
"Neither did she," Penny replied. Her eyes were twinkling, and just for a moment her hoof strayed toward to her belly. The motion was barely noticeable, but Star knew it well enough from experience. "Life and love find a way, it seems."
"And yet the only non-equine hybrids I've heard about before now have been Griffons," said Long.
"With pegasi?"
"Surprisingly not." Long placed her tea to one side and, just for a moment, looked to Star as if seeking permission to speak. How odd. "There are several large earth pony settlements in the Empire with a long history behind them, but no unicorn or pegasi settlements of note. Griffons seem to prefer species that can't compete directly with them and earth ponies tend to make very good... ah, well. Lets just say they weren't always quite so benevolent toward their ground-bound subjects." She sipped her tea, giving the thought time to linger. "Anyway, the few hippogriffs we know about are generally quite poor flyers and rarely leave the Empire. Which is a shame. They really are quite fascinating creatures."
"I met one a little while back, in Prance," said Star. "He was mated with a painter who only learned to fly when she was in her thirties."
"A rather fitting combination," Long replied with a lopsided grin, before retrieving her tea. Somehow the cup had been discreetly refilled. "You see, Penny, odd little connections like that are the reason we keep this old nag in harness."
"And the reflected glory, don't forget that," Star put in. She winked at Penny.
"If that's how you wish to describe it," Long said, rolling her eyes. "Still, in spite of my own personal opinions on your state of mind, not to mention the numerous scandals you've managed to avoid trapping yourself in, you are quite the asset."
"Something that might be a family trait, if Twilight Sparkle's recent activities are any indication," Penny added, with a wry smile. "I believe a number of ponies see her public marriage to this hoo—um, human as a sort of beacon of liberation, if you will. It wouldn't surprise me if we start seeing more interspecies relationships becoming public."
Star snorted and began to laugh, but covered it up as a cough. "I don't see why she should get all the credit," she said, frowning. "In fact I'm sure I must have contributed something to that whole mess."
"Broken hearts, mostly," Long replied, shaking her head. "It's one thing for a pony known for her predilection to adventure to have sex with a few unusual creatures, Star. It's quite another for Celestia's protégé to so public bond to one of them."
"Then I suppose I shall just have to live with my existing fame and fortune," Star mused, before dipping into the remains of her food.
"I don't know, I think it's kind of romantic in its own way," said Penny. "The brave forebear passing on the torch to the next generation sort of thing, you know? A twinkling star in the darkness of foreign relations."
Star froze with a forkful of salad half way to her mouth. She set the food down and turned slowly to look at Penny. "What did you say?"
Penny flinched as she noticed the intensity of Star's gaze. "Um. Just that you seem like something of a herald? A beacon, er, guiding light, I suppose? I didn't mean to offend."
"You—" Star closed her eyes and pressed a hoof to the side of her head. "Sorry, I think something I ate has disagreed with me."
"The life of the idle rich," said Long, chuckling into her tea. She took another, longer sip and sighed. "But speaking of guiding lights and all that, I have to admit there is more reason than socialising to bring you two together."
"Long." Star set her plate down on the table in a clatter of china and silverware. "Are you meaning to tell me that you've arranged this meeting with some sort of—of ulterior motive? I'm shocked! Shocked and surprised that you could be so conniving and manipulative!"
Long peered sideways at Penny and raised an eyebrow.
"There is sarcasm, Star, and then there is this." She snorted and rolled her eyes. "Nevertheless, Penny has been seeking an unofficial consultation on the matter, and since have such a great deal of, ah, experience on the topic of interspecies affairs, I felt it prudent to suggest that you might be able to provide some sort of insight."
Penny leaned a fraction closer to Star. "Speaking unofficially, the Home Office is in a complete tizzy about the entire situation. The Ministry is convinced there's going to be some sort of revolt or uprising. We've got internal studies that project up to eight percent of the population are engaged in clandestine interspecies relationships of one sort or another."
"Sounds a bit low to me." Star frowned on the realisation that she had likewise leaned toward Penny – and that she was whispering. She cleared her throat and raised her head. "I'm not sure what you think I can contribute. Besides, I expect to be very busy for the next year or so. Got an expedition planned."
"There's no question of retaining you in any official capacity, of course," Penny replied. "But if you want to play the role of the twinkling star again, any wisdom you may wish to impart might leave the Ministry amenable to providing some manner of support in return. Frankly we're—I say, are you feeling alright?"
Star opened her eyes, though she hadn't realised she'd closed them. It took a moment for Penny's face to swim into focus again, filled with concern and confusion for Star's state.
"I have to leave," she said. "It was good to meet you, Baroness Saved. Enjoy your sabbatical."
Without waiting for a response, Star turned and marched toward the nearest door. A guard beyond jumped in surprise as she kicked it open, though he managed to avoid being hit by it and saluted to Star as she passed. Just as the door closed she heard Penny mutter "What do you suppose that was about?" and then the room was cut off, and Star was alone.
The way out was something of a mystery given she'd arrived through a completely different entrance. She turned to the guard; as if reading her mind, he pointed down the corridor to a broad set of doors that led onto a brightly lit garden. She gave him a jerky nod of thanks and trotted away.
* * *
The passage of several hours and nearly as many drinks found Star lying in the dark comfort of her oversized bed, wrapped in silk and feathers and the hot embrace of exhausted bodies.
It was dark, but she liked that. It was close and humid; she liked that too, and the gentle hiss of summer rain beyond the windows, and the quiet thrum of a mare's heart right by her ear. If she lay still, and if she listened with the right mind, it was almost like being back there again, free of responsibilities and legacies and the constant march of familial duty. Almost.
Cinnamon Swift's wing twitched; the young pegasus stretched out and yawned, and that was followed a moment later by Glint lifting his head to stare blearily down at the pair. Whatever tenuous illusion Star had maintained was broken then. She tucked her legs close to her body and shrugged her way from beneath Glint's grasping limbs.
"I hope you're not working yourself up for more," Glint murmured as he rolled onto his back.
"I doubt you could survive even if I wanted to," Star replied. She yawned, prompting a similar response from Glint. "Wasn't Luci supposed to be back by now?"
"He's probably with Crincile," said Glint. "Maybe I should go and find him. I've got an itch."
"Can't scratch it yourself?" Star nodded toward a chest on the wall and wiggled her eyebrows. "Or maybe I could."
"It's really not the same."
Star rolled onto her back, laughing quietly. "You don't have to tell me twice. Don't concern yourself dear, I'm sure he'll be back soon. Unless he's decided to shack up with Blueblood."
Glint's ears pricked. He turned to look at Star with wide, shimmering eyes. "Star, don't say these things! If he did that then I'd have to go and live with him too! I've heard stories about that stallion..." Glint shuffled across the bed to rest his head on Star's belly. "Horrible, terrible stories of depravity that would make the hardiest of mares blush like little fillies! Maybe even you!"
"Only if the thing with the wet celery is true," Star said. She waited a moment for Glint's ears to perk up. "Besides, I've seen him up close. I doubt he'd be able to scratch that itch of yours."
"Oh." Glint sighed, rolling his head until his ear tickled at Star's teats. "Well they do say it's all about the persistence rather than the presence."
"It helps to have both."
The door creaked open – without even a knock, Star noted. She rolled out from under Glint to see who their uninvited guest might be, with the secret hope that it would be Lucent finally returning.
Instead she found Twilight Velvet, staring at her with a downturned lip and wide, tense eyes.
"Maybe you should go persist on Cinnamon for a while," Star murmured. She stroked Glint's head, turning his gaze away from the door. "I suspect I'm about to have another friendly discussion."
Glint snorted. "Just try not to kill one another."
"Well, I shall try, but I can't make any promises for Twilight," Star said as she dropped to the floor. A sleepy yawn was the only answer she got back.
The bedroom took only moments to cross, though she would have found things easier if there hadn't been nearly a whole bottle of wine swilling around her stomach. Nevertheless Star reached the door without swaying even slightly.
Of course Twilight could still tell. She stepped back into the sitting room, not quite managing to hide the sneer that had crept onto her face, and led Star toward a couch.
"I don't think I can remember the last time we had a sober conversation," Twilight Velvet said as she sat down. Star rolled onto the couch opposite and lay back, letting her legs fall as they might.
"Do you ever wonder why that might be?"
"Spare me the passive aggressive nonsense, Star. I came to talk to you about Lucent, not listen to more of your whining."
Star's ears pricked. She sat up. "He's back? When?"
"Two hours ago, though it took until now for me to coax him out of his study."
"Typical. He could have at least come and see me before he buried himself in his books again," Star muttered.
"Why would he, when you ran off and left him alone?"
"I did no such thing! I merely—"
"Abandoned Lucent with that greasy slimeball prince," Velvet growled. She turned away, massaging her forehead with both hooves. "He's convinced he upset you somehow, as if he could ever hope to be anywhere near as viciously thoughtless as you."
"Twilight—"
"You don't even try, that's the worst part! You just act like your stupid rotten self and to hell with what anyone else thinks!"
Twilight Velvet's forelegs fell at her sides. She rolled forward, dropping to all fours on the carpet and, with a twitch of her tail, turned to face Star again.
"You need to apologise to him," she said, not quite looking Star in the face.
"I will. I will, Twilight," Star snapped, before Velvet could shoot back a reply. "It was just... j-just..."
Star's jaw clenched, preventing her from speaking. She could feel her lips curling in on themselves, crushing against her teeth, as if her entire body refused to let her talk any longer. She took a breath through her nose and turned away, closing her eyes, and ignoring the prickle of tears she felt in them.
Magic flared; Velvet's magic. A moment later Star felt a kerchief brush gently against her hoof. Wordlessly she pressed it to her face and took another shaky breath.
"I will," she repeated, dabbing at her eyes. "You can probably imagine it's been a very stressful few weeks. Too many things happening at once."
Velvet snorted, but where normally she might have torn another well-deserved strip from Star's hide, instead she remained mercifully silent. She watched Star, tilting her head this way and that, until finally:
"This can't go on forever, Star."
"I don't know what you expect me to do about it. No matter what decision I make, somepony will decide to make my life a misery for it. Usually that turns out to be you."
"And whose fault is that?" Twilight Velvet shot back. She looked away, though her ears weren't laid flat this time. "I'm going to go and see if Lucent is feeling any better. You should probably think about what you're going to say to him when you apologise."
"I—"
"And when you've done that you can think about how to fix things up with Twilie. Yes I know exactly what you did," she said, before Star could even open her mouth. "I didn't think you could sink any lower than you already have, but I suppose you never saw a boundary you didn't want to utterly violate."
"It's never been a problem before..."
Twilight Velvet closed her eyes. "You'll make things right, Star. After all these years she deserves a mother who actually gives a damn about her life."
Velvet looked back at Star. No anger or resentment clouded her face, or even the pity that had become such a frequent feature of her expression in recent years. All Star saw now was a tired emptiness, a dullness to Velvet's eyes, as if she had finally given up. But given up what?
While she pondered this, she realised Velvet had left the room in silence, not even bothering to close the door.
"I tried," Star said to the emptiness.
10. To carry me upon this path I chose so long ago
The leaves had just begun to turn on the trees lining Westgate Road, as Star slogged beneath a sweltering sun that fought its last, valiant stand against the encroaching chill of the fall.
The road was old; one of the oldest in Canterlot. From the wall of the royal palace it wound around the university's ancient Great Hall and ran west to the Opera House, which stood on the site of the long-vanished gate from which the road drew its name. Thanks to its central position in the city and its proximity to the University, it was home to academic offices and adjunct schools, and formed the core of the city's student district – a crescent of dorms, apartment complexes and converted townhouses that together played host to nearly the entire student body of Canterlot University.
Star halted in a sliver of shade beneath the tight-bound branches of an elderly birch. The Numnah Building rose before her, a slender affair that was crammed into a gap between the University Finance Office and the School of Alchemical Studies. She peered up at the narrow building's odd mixture of art-deco and what the more architecturally-inclined might call retromodernism, or some such rot, but which to Star had always appeared as little more than a horrendous clash of concrete, hearts and pointless lumps of chrome plating mangled together with what she assumed was duct tape.
Of course, she wasn't there just to gawp at the horrendous architectural choices of her peers. Star jabbed at the buzzer and stepped back. She didn't have to wait long before a voice warbled from a crystal speaking tube by the door: "If you're here from the college of music then I was totally not in the building when it happened and totally do not live here."
"We have a college of music?" Star raised her eyebrow at the scandalised gasp she received in reply. Artists. Always so high-strung. Or just high. "Never mind any of that. I'm here to see Twilight."
"Oh. Oh! You must be Star! Come in!" The door unlocked with a loud clank, before swinging open on a magically weighted hinge. "Sixth floor," the voice added, and then the speaking tube fell silent.
The lobby, lined with marble and lit with dim, but steady gas lights, felt more like the entrance of a comfortable restaurant or a hotel than any sort of institutional building; in her day the norm had been enchanted candles and bare wooden floors, or at least it had felt that way. Quite where the university had found the budget for this... Star snorted at the depths she had sunk to. Flicking her tail at imagined flies she marched up the stairs, with only a small pause to catch her breath on the fourth floor.
On the sixth, two doors waited for her at the narrow landing: one to the east and one to the west. The arrangement put Star in mind of the endless games sessions her son engaged in when he wasn't chasing the pink harlot or sharing his bunk with a few dozen lonely stallions at East Peak.
There was a quiet scuffling behind the nearest door; muffled voices whispering incomprehensible statements, or possibly threats, in which she could just about make out references to her name. She tried to spy through the peephole, but was met with darkness; instead she knocked, then stepped back as an abrupt silence fell within the apartment.
The wordless waiting stretched out for some moments. Star was about to knock again when the door crashed back and a bright green unicorn bounded out onto the landing. The mare grabbed Star's withers, flailing unkempt white and green bangs in her face, and flashed a horrifyingly wide smile.
"Hi! I totally don't live here and you have no idea who I am!" she announced, her words loud enough that they echoed in the stairwell for some time. She looked over her shoulder at the apartment to yell her goodbyes within, then bounded away down the stairs with the same disturbing grin still plastered to her face.
The confusing moment passed, Star tore herself from the receding tap of hooves upon the stairs and turned to face the door. She found Twilight standing there, draped in an oversized green hoodie that was emblazoned with the university's crest.
"Hello, Twilight," she said. Twilight smiled awkwardly and bobbed her head. "Enjoying life amongst the commoners again?"
"Mom..." Twilight took a breath and stepped back, though her smile remained, despite the tone of her voice. "You'd better come inside."
"Yes, I rather think I should."
Star edged over the threshold, casting a last glance back at the stairs lest the crazed green pony make an unexpected return. The door closed by itself as she followed Twilight into the apartment, passing through a shallow lobby and into a larger communal space. Couches and cushions lay haphazardly around the room, though a few were arranged in a rough circle around a low table, near a strip of full-height windows that looked out over parkland at the rear of the building. The hazy smudge of a small town was just barely visible on the horizon.
A mare and a stallion lounged near the windows, wrapped indecently about one another, the mare's blue coat clashing with the stallion's tan hide and bright orange mane. A door just lay open just beyond, leading to a short corridor that Star knew housed the actual dormitories. They both watched Star with curious expressions until Twilight shuffled into the room.
"Hey Twilight," the mare said. She eased onto her haunches, murmuring something into the stallion's ear that prompted a muted giggle from him, then smiled at Twilight. "Oh, your mom's here?"
"Yeah, finally. Mom, this is Minuette and Cracker." Twilight held out a hoof to the pair and gave a half shrug and an awkward twitch of her tail. "Minuette was in my classes at the school. Cracker—"
"Is just leaving," the stallion said. He rose from his couch, pausing for a languid stretch that somehow managed to show off his lean rump and the thick bands of muscle across his shoulders and neck, and also gave Star an eyeful of his cutie mark: a pair of crossed polo mallets.
Star frowned at the mark, then looked its owner in the face. "You look familiar. Didn't I see you playing for Cavelbridge in the varsity?"
"Certainly. I was Number Three last year. Crack Shot, currently reading law at Septine college." He twitched his head, flopping his oversized mane from one side of his neck to the other, and held out a hoof. After a moment's hesitation, and bouncing her head to rattle any unsavoury thoughts from her brain, Star bumped her own against it. "These two beauties like to call me Cracker for some reason. To answer the question you're thinking so very loudly, I'm here instead of there because I'm required to spend a year in harness to the City Watch as an advocate's assistant, and Canterlot offers more opportunity than Cavelbridge."
"I've never trusted lawyers," Star said. "Especially when they turn up in an unexpected places."
"I assure you the feeling about my situation was mutual, but it is a necessary sacrifice if one is to be seated on the bench and proclaim Celestia's law," he replied smoothly, then just as smoothly sidestepped Star to move to Twilight's side, where he wrapped his lean neck about hers. His narrow-eyed gaze found Star from behind the locks of Twilight's mane. "Of course, there are benefits."
A blush rose on Twilight's cheeks at the words, though she stayed silent. Then Minuette breezed past Star and flopped onto the other end of the couch beside Twilight, leaning in close enough that the poor mare was firmly sandwiched between the two. Twilight refused to meet Star's curious gaze, instead preferring to curl up on herself until her back hooves almost touched her elbows.
"I see," said Star.
They were all ignoring her now, curled in a ball of... not quite passion, or at least not in any sense Star would understand, but nevertheless in ways that seemed a fraction too intimate given her presence. But then Cracker's head lifted and he abruptly drew away from the two mares, pausing only to nibble affectionately at Twilight's ear.
"I shall see the both of you tonight," he murmured, transferring his gentle ministrations to the roots of Minuette's mane. "Perhaps at my apartment this time?"
"M-Maybe," Twilight stuttered. Her eyes flickered toward Star, before returning to a point somewhere beneath the floor.
For a moment Cracker seemed about to say something more, but then he sighed and backed away from the pair. "Ladies. Professor," he added, bowing his head to Star, before slipping past her and toward the door. Star watched him go, barely caring to conceal her appreciation for his sturdy frame.
The room became still, with only the faint clatter of the street below preventing absolute silence. Minuette was the first to move. "Perhaps I should find us all something to drink?"
She slid from the couch, leaving a parting kiss on Twilight's glowing cheek, and sauntered back toward the kitchen.
"Well," Star said once the door was closed. Her gaze turned to Twilight, who to her credit was no longer blushing. "You certainly have landed on all four hooves."
Twilight shrugged, though the motion was barely visible in the folds of her shirt. She was starting to relax now that they were alone again, like a mimosa once the rain had passed. "I guess so. Spike doesn't like it though. He wanted to stay in my rooms at the palace."
"In the same vein, I can't imagine your landlord is so keen on having a walking fire hazard around the place. Speaking of which, where is the little blast furnace?"
"With Princess Celestia," Twilight replied.
It was clear that vague answer was all Star could expect on the subject. Rather than press Twilight, she turned to give the spartan common room another examination before settling her gaze on the door to the dormitories, however unfitting the term might be for the near-palatial rooms that were undoubtedly the norm in such an opulent location. Curiosity tickled at her thoughts, and by reflex her tail twitched to bat it away before she could think to stop it.
"You know, when I was a student, I roomed with Velvet in a tiny little place down by the airship docks. Barely able to fit us both and Luci when we had him over, as I recall. Of course, your father has always been rather impressively proportioned." Star glanced at Twilight and grinned. "But never mind that! How about we see what sort of hovel they have you students slumming in these days?"
Before Twilight could reply, Star had fixed her jaw and was marching towards the dorms, though she faltered a little as she moved into the corridor beyond. Four doors lined the walls, two on each side, but Star's attention was soon taken from them. A window stood at the far end of the corridor, rising from floor to ceiling without any breaks and etched with intricate floral patterns that let in enough light to render almost pointless the scintillating crystal lanterns hanging from the ceiling.
The window kept Star's interest for a while, long enough to walk most of the length of the corridor without noticing. She paused then, just outside a door, and turned to look at Twilight once again.
"That stallion of yours seems like quite the catch," she said.
Twilight paused, one hoof in the air, like a deer on the verge of turning tail. A twitch ran from her eye and down her back to her croup, ending in a quick shake of her tail.
"He's well read," Twilight allowed. Then she lowered her hoof. "I almost wish I could go back to Cavelbridge with him next year."
"No love for the alma mater, dear? Not that I'm surprised. He does seem rather..." she licked her lips. "Persuasive."
"Cavelbridge has an excellent academic record!" Twilight tipped her head to watch Star prowl up and down the corridor. "Besides, he's the first stallion I've been able to have an intelligent conversation with since Shining joined the Guard."
"I imagine that's what you tell those three as well," Star shot back. She paused in front of a door, made a show of sniffing at the air and then flicked her ears toward it. "This one yours?"
"How did you know that?"
"I can smell the lab equipment."
Before Twilight could object, Star pushed the door open. Late afternoon sunlight washed over her as she stepped through, falling in long shafts from the rank of tall, arched windows that lined the far wall. Just beyond the threshold, Star halted; ahead of her was a desk scattered with laboratory glassware, including a retort nearly the size of her head and a copper worm that dripped steadily into a slender beaker.
"I thought I was joking," Star murmured, as she took in the view. Two beds took up the majority of the room, each with its own desk close to the wall. A bookshelf sat between them, filled to bursting and replete with the trinkets and mementos of student life.
Twilight squeezed past, ushering Star further into the room before turning to close the door. A poster hove into view, lurid and colourful against dull wood; Star couldn't help but recognise the fundamental laws of magic, even written as they were in such a stylised script. Around and between the laws there frolicked a bevy of cutesy creatures drawn from myth and lore, from mysterious realms and ancient dreams: strange apes and dragons and centaurs chased one another, or danced with ponies in togas and robes, whose heads were each crowned with flowery garlands.
It was all very twee.
"That—" Star jabbed a hoof at the poster "—is undoubtedly Twilight Velvet's work."
"Actually, Princess Celestia gave it to me," Twilight replied. She smirked when Star looked at her, then sauntered away to one of the beds – the scruffy one, Star noted, and not the one turned down neat as a high-class hotel.
"That was my second choice."
"Sure it was, mom." Twilight rolled onto her back on the bed and let out a plaintive sigh.
A book drifted past Star's face; she turned to watch it as it floated over Twilight, its pages riffling as it sought whatever spot she had last read to. Wrapped in her oversized sweater and splayed out on her back, uncaring toward the world at large as she fell into her book, Twilight could almost be mistaken for the bohemian ideal of studenthood that Star had once aspired toward.
With nothing else to do, Star shuffled awkwardly on her hooves and listened to the yawning silence surrounding the two of them. Somewhere in the apartment a door thudded – perhaps Minuette following up on her quest for drinks, or some other pony. Star wasn't sure how many lived here already. She found herself watching the young mare that her daughter had grown to be and wondering how time had caught up to her so completely.
Another door slammed, this time followed by the quiet murmur of voices and the stomp of hooves in the corridor. Star shook herself and moved across the room to a narrow shelf near Twilight's desk that held more personal mementos: a tiny orrery, a photograph of Spike. A Daring Do figurine that held her attention far longer than it had any right to. She smiled as she passed it by, before her eye was caught by another photograph Five mares smiled back at her from the frame, huddled around the barely comprehending Spike , happy and content together.
"This your little herd?" She held up the picture, turning it to face Twilight. For a moment Twilight frowned, as if trying to place it, but then she shook her head.
"Some of them are."
Star turned the photograph back to peer at it. "I take it some includes the green one."
"Lyra? Kind of. She's..." Twilight rolled onto her belly, ears twitching akimbo, as if searching for eavesdroppers. "We're in a lot of the same classes at the school. She tagged along when I started dating them, but she spends most of her time with Cracker and Putter."
"Putter?" Star glanced at the photograph again before putting it back on the shelf.
"Cracker's coltfriend." Twilight frowned as she spoke the words, while her hoof stroked gently along her foreleg. "We don't talk all that much."
"I see. And what about that clone of yours? Is she a part of this?"
"I wish you'd stop calling her that, mom."
"I don't see why." Star glanced over her shoulder at the sound of a creaking door; Minuette had arrived, bearing a trio of glasses and a suspiciously transparent bottle. "I suppose it's just a horrendous accident that she looks like you, talks like you, styles her mane the same way as yours and copies every single tiny thing you do."
"Oh, are you guys talking about Moondancer?" Minuette held out two glasses. Star took hers; Twilight declined with a wave of her hoof. "Yeah, she's pretty much Twilight mark two, right down to the whole 'no fun' thing."
"Moondancer is not my clone." Twilight's ears dropped back. "And anyway I have fun! I've read everything there is about fun!"
"Exactly, Twilight, you read it. You spend all day with your face buried in books and then Moondancer steals them afterwards so she can sit in her dorm and pretend she can still smell you on them." Minuette flicked her tail at Twilight's head and giggled. "Be nice if one of you paid that sort of attention to the rest of us."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I'm just saying." Minuette shrugged and turned away to pour herself drink. "There are other uses for a face than reading."
"Min!" Twilight hopped from the bed, flashing Star an awkward smile before ushering Minuette across the room. "My mom is right here!"
The pair's conversation quickly reduced to harsh whispers, punctuated by Minuette's occasional, inscrutable glanced toward Star. At a particularly wild gesture of Twilight's hooves, Star cocked her head and ambled toward the pair, holding her drink up high and staring through it in an attempt to understand what it was."
Minuette was holding forth as she approached. "—the thing, Twi, I don't think she cares if you've had sex."
"But I—"
"Not interrupting anything, am I?" Star tilted her head and gave the pair what she hoped looked like a comforting smile. She raised the glass. "My dear, I wonder if perhaps it's a little early to be drinking something this strong."
Minuetted scoffed and rolled her eyes. "I sat through your morning lectures last semester, Professor."
"That's entirely different." Star tipped back the spirit in a single swallow, though not quite fast enough to prevent the cheap liquor from cutting to the back of her throat. "Besides," she wheezed, "you two have responsibilities."
"So do you," Twilight shot back. She wasn't frowning, though there was a little dimple in the centre of her brow, one that Star easily recognised from her mirror every morning.
"My dear, what I have is a horrible disease called tenure." Star held up her glass and peered through the film of liquor that crawled down its sides. "You'll understand once you've spent a few years lecturing."
Twilight's face twisted up. Then her ears fell back. "You—you think I'll end up like you?"
"I don't believe I said anything of the sort," Star replied as she cast about for Minuette's bottle, though it was sadly out of reach. "Only that you'll be very fond of telling ponies what to think."
"Hah! Burn," Minuette cackled, only to wilt beneath the combined force of Star and Twilight's glares. "A-Anyway, we don't have any lectures tomorrow. The other girls wanted to run the cider circuit, so I—"
"Figured you'd pre-game, drink too much cider and spend the next day nursing a hangover that feels like you were kicked in the head by a pissed-off donkey, yes, I'm well aware of the rituals." Star held up her glass and peered at the side, then set it down. She was already starting to regret that particular show of bravado. "I was a student as well, once upon a time. Of course," she continued, "I never started quite so early."
"Five o'clock somewhere." Minuette dragged a chair from beneath the other, empty desk at the foot of what was presumably her bed. "And like I said, I've sat through your morning lectures."
"You'd understand if you had to deal with my regular students."
"I am your regular students."
"My point," said Star, "stands firm."
Their slow circling of the room had brought Star back in range of the bottle. With a triumphant grin she picked it up and poured herself another drink. She was just bringing it to her lips when the door rattled and swung open without announcement and another pony, her magic laden with books, stumbled into the room.
"Twi, I got that copy of Space Princess Bluebelle you were—" the mare's voice trailed away as she caught sight of first Minuette, then Star. Her books fell to the floor. "Um."
"Ah, Moondancer," said Star, a broad smile on her face. "Nice to see you again. I think the last time was when you lurking at the back of my lectures on the abandoned temple-forts of Impalawe a couple of months back."
"Um," Moondancer repeated as she tried to pick up her scattered books. For some reason they kept sliding from her magic, possibly because her concentration was elsewhere.
While the performance wore on, Minuette shuffled her seat around to face Moondancer. "A couple of months back was the middle of the summer break, wasn't it?"
Moondancer blushed and glanced at Star once last time, before turning her full attention to the ragged stack of books now resting at her hooves. "Kinda? It sounded like it'd be interesting."
"I'm glad you thought so." Star settled forward and smiled benevolently – she hoped – at Moondancer. "Your hypothesis of recent occupation was interesting, but you failed to evidence it."
Again the books clattered to the floor, but now Moondancer wasn't paying them even the slightest attention. Ears splayed back, tail switching like a flag in a gale, she stepped over the pile to face Star.
Slowly, Star looked Moondancer up and down. She narrowed her eyes, while a lazy grin spread across her face. "You disagree?"
"Of course I disagree! The evidence for early abandonment was circumstantial at best," Moondancer replied. She shuffled to one side and started picking up her books again. "The entire hypothesis rests on the assumption that anything outside the walls of the temples wasn't related to occupation within them. If you had read my paper properly, you'd see that there were numerous examples of blue figure pottery in the temple at diziro mhara—"
"You mean in the garbage pits nearby."
Moondancer stomped her hoof. "That's my point! Those pits weren't used by any population other than the temple inhabitants and their vassal settlements!"
"Perhaps," Star replied, circling the younger mare. She picked up one of Moondancer's books to examine the spine. "Of course, there is the question of graffiti. Nothing more recent than five-hundred years—"
"The lack of low duncan inscription isn't evidence of anything other than a decrease in general literacy."
"It's a script written by donkeys, my dear, the last of which left the area centuries ago."
"But—" Moondancer lifted a hoof as if to step back, but then she ground it back into the carpet. "But that doesn't mean anything! It had to have been written by Impala as well! How else would they have communicated?"
"And if you had presented evidence of that, your argument might have carried more weight. All you have right now is belief." Star jabbed the book at Moondancer, who instinctively grasped it with her magic. The younger mare stared, sightless, at the book, while her breath came in short, hot bursts to match the rising flush on her cheeks. "It's a starting point. Nothing more."
Moondancer's frown was unmissable, thanks to the unkempt hedges she called eyebrows; so too the unmistakable quiver of her lip as she looked away from Star.
"You're passionate," Star continued. "But you took the assigned reading at face value and didn't look beyond it for any contradictory research."
Moondancer's tail whipped at her flanks as she returned her attention to Star. "You chose those texts for us."
"As an overview of the field," Star shot back. "And deliberately biased one at that."
Moondancer blinked and dropped her ears back again. "How was I supposed to reach a correct conclusion if you left out important information?"
"The entire point of the class was to encourage thinking beyond the obvious." Star reached for Minuette's bottle again, but then thought better of it. She glanced back at Moondancer; the young mare was pouting and glaring at her, but the uncertainty of a moment before was gone. "If it helps, none of the others thought to look either, though by the same stroke none of them drew even remotely as entertaining conclusions as yours, which is why you're the only one that scored anything higher than a C."
Moondancer opened her mouth but seemed unable to reply. Beside her, Minuette leaned forward across the back of her chair; it creaked loudly, distracting Moondancer from whatever fugue she had entered.
"So let me get this straight," said Minuette, glancing first at Star and then Moondancer. "You took a class in the middle of the summer break when you told us you were staying with your sister, didn't do the research and still got a B in a subject you don't even study?"
"I guess," Moondancer mumbled. Her eyes had risen to the book she held now, though her focus was several miles behind its pages. Then her head jerked around to the pile of books behind her; a moment later she gathered them up in a neat pile and trotted from the room.
After the door had closed, Star looked at Minuette and Twilight, and slowly raised an eyebrow. "Well—"
The door opened again. A book drifted through, depositing itself on Twilight's bed. Star waited for the door to close again, and then a little longer until she was satisfied that there'd be no more interruptions. Another door slammed in the distance; Moondancer returning to her own dorm.
"If I didn't know better—" Star paused to cock her ear toward the door, then smiled at Twilight. "I'd swear you two were sisters."
Twilight's outraged glare could have cut steel, though it faltered somewhat when Minuette burst out laughing and flopped backwards onto her bed. She rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to her book.
"I guess it's better than calling us clones," Twilight muttered.
The trio fell silent, save for a quiet snort of laughter from Minuette. Star shuffled back to her seat, while Minuette stared idly at the ceiling, still grinning and shaking her head; evidently she was easily amused at Twilight's expense, though perhaps that wasn't too surprising given the expectations that hung over these young mares. After a while, Star found herself contemplating the poster on the door again. It seemed childish in its whimsy. Like something – as she'd first suspected – that Twilight Velvet would have hung in her young filly's room.
"Speaking of sisters." Star turned to face Twilight, who looked up with a confused frown. "Lucent tells me that Guiding Light keeps asking when 'Princess Twilight' is coming back."
"Princess..." Twilight dropped her book. "She called me that?"
"Sounds like you impressed her," Minuette added, rolling onto her side. "Like, a lot."
"All I did was read to her." Twilight pouted and snuffled against her foreleg for a moment. "Granted, it was a book about Princess Celestia's adventures before she ascended the throne. And I might have illustrated it with some simple projection magic." Her eyes shifted to one side. "And maybe told her that it was Princess Celestia's personal copy and that we were good friends and that I would take her to visit the palace when she was older..."
Minuette giggled. "That'd do it!"
"But that doesn't make me a princess," Twilight protested, prompting another bout of Minuette's laughter.
"Fortunately, neither does sitting on a fancy seat and eating too much cake, otherwise we'd have princesses all over the place." Star settled back into her seat. "Youth is easily impressed by simple things. I remember idolising my cousin when I was a filly, for almost no reason at all now I look back on it. Lots of flashy lights and firecrackers. Hardly a patch on the sort of magic you girls get up to, I'm sure."
Minuette shook her head. "Not me. I'm studying Archaeology and Conservation," she said, then tapped her cutie mark and grinned at Star. "The only advanced magic I've learned recently involves dating historical artefacts."
"That would explain why you were in my morning lectures last month." Star scratched her ear and grinned at Twilight. "But what about our resident princess? Got any tricks to show your old mare?"
"Not unless you're impressed by stick figures acting out scenes from a foals' story book," said Twilight. She paused to turn a page of her book. "Though I wouldn't mind reading more about that dating magic."
"Yeah, sorry, Moondancer already borrowed my copy of Advanced Thaumochronology." Minuette snorted, then narrowed her eyes as her mouth twisted into a sly grin. "Unless you mean some other sort of dating magic. It's not like you'd have to look far if you wanted to get laid, Twilight."
"Min..."
"Fine, I get the picture." Minuette paused a moment to let Twilight's grumbling subside. She stuck her tongue out at her roommate and rolled her eyes at Star, perhaps forgetting their relative status for a moment. "So what about you, Professor?"
Star raised an eyebrow. "I'm quite alright for dates, thank you."
"She means about magic, mom," said Twilight, refusing to look up from her book.
"Oh, well, all that fancy stuff is for the birds anyway," said Star, with a dismissive wave of her hoof. "I only really use teleportation and light magic these days. You'd be amazed at how few ponies really appreciate the difference light makes to the world. Drop them in the middle of a wilderness without their thaumic lanterns and gas lights, and you'll soon see what they're really made of. That was something I discovered out I was very young, thanks to those brothers of mine and their endless trickery."
Minuette's ears perked up. "I never had a brother."
"I had three. I didn't realise how unusual that was until later." Star shook her head as a lopsided grin crept to her face. "Forget everything I said about youth being easily impressed, those three terrors were always trying to one-up every bit of magic I showed them. If I teleported one room away, they had to teleport across the entire house. Conjure a little crystal, they'd all turn up an hour later with gigantic geodes. Shine a light, they had to fill the room with darkness. They kept it up until the very day I left for University. I'm only surprised they didn't all try and get PhDs just to outdo me one last time."
"I can't imagine what it'd be like to have so many brothers."
"Sometimes it feels like my entire life was nothing but brothers." Star leaned back again, rubbing both hooves over her nose. "I'll tell you this, young mare. Be glad you weren't the lone filly surrounded by stallions, especially at this time of your life. They're more trouble than they're worth."
Twilight's book snapped shut. She looked at Star with a frown so similar to Moondancer's that it was all Star could do to not burst out laughing, but whatever she was about to say was interrupted by the loud crack of a door slamming and the rumble of hooves and voices as what sounded like an entire regiment of ponies invaded the apartment.
The call of an eager voice – the green one, Star recalled; Lyra – teased Minuette's ears toward the door. She hopped from the bed, but then paused to grin sheepishly at Star and Twilight.
"That's the other girls ready to go." She flicked an ear toward Twilight. "Sure you don't wanna come with, Twi? We're meeting Putter at the Nag."
Twilight shuffled on her bed, finally taking her eyes from Star. She gave Minuette a wan smile. "I'm—I'm fine."
"Alright." Minuette leaned over to give Twilight a peck on the cheek. "I'll see you later. Maybe we can all go hang out at the park tomorrow."
"Sure," said Twilight, as Minuette trotted from the room. She waited a good moment after the door had shut before turning her attention back to Star. "So. All brothers, huh?"
Star grinned. "I know! It explains a lot, doesn't it?"
Despite herself Twilight laughed, though only for a moment. She spread out on the bed, obviously relaxing now that Minuette was gone again, although Star hadn't noticed her daughter's tension before that point. How odd.
"It explains a lot," Twilight echoed. She raised her head to look at Star again. "Not everything though. I thought I was named after your sister."
"Amaranth?" Star rubbed the side of her neck. Perhaps she'd caught some of Twilight's tension without realising it. "I only said it felt like nothing but brothers, Twilight."
"I know, but it always seems—" Twilight sighed. "I've never met her. Sometimes it feels like she doesn't even exist."
"You've never met any of my family," Star replied. "Except your uncle Pickles, who I understand was very impressed with how verbal you were for your age."
"He kept cooing at me like I was a foal. I was nine! How else was I supposed to respond?"
"He always was a bit dense," said Star, with a shrug. She glanced around the room once again and then hopped from her chair, with nearly no pause to keep her balance. Perhaps that last drink had been a mistake. "Well, my dear, I really must get back to the university."
"Really?" Twilight's face fell, but she slid from the bed to join Star nonetheless.
The common room was empty when they reached it, though the musty scent of cheap beer and other more potent student pastimes still lingered to tell the tale of the crowd that Minuette had left with. Twilight slowed to glare at the abandoned cups and takeout wrappers piled on a table near the lobby.
"They're going to have fun cleaning that up," she muttered as she passed them by.
Then they reached the door, which hung ajar as if to cement the reputation of students everywhere as lazy and inconsiderate drunkards. Star teased it open and stepped out into the hallway.
"I shall have to do this again," she said, which drew another shy smile from Twilight. "Perhaps even bring your father or Crinkle along."
Twilight nodded slowly, but then her ears perked up and she grinned. "I know just the thing! I'm presenting a paper on comparative magic at the end of the month. Maybe you and dad could come see it?"
"The end of the month?"
"Yeah, the twentieth." Twilight's grin faded. "Why?"
"Oh, sweetheart..." Star reached out to touch Twilight's shoulder. "I can't. I have—"
"Another expedition," Twilight concluded.
Star could only offer a wan smile. "It's only six months. You won't even know I'm gone."
"No kidding," Twilight muttered. She looked up at the doorframe and sighed. "I hardly knew when you were home. Gone is normal."
The silence returned, but awkward now, as the two of them contemplated one another across the threshold. Star scuffed a hoof at the carpet and took a breath.
"I'll come by again before I leave," she said, and tried to smile again. Twilight didn't mirror it this time. "Maybe I can have a look at it then?"
Twilight nodded once, pursing her lips. "Maybe."
"I'm sure your father would love to hear it," Star continued, more for something to say than for any comfort the words might have offered. "And Velvet is always around."
Twilight's jaw clenched, briefly, but visibly. She began to push the door closed, then paused to stare at Star again, as if waiting for more. But Star, for all she claimed of her wit, could think of nothing else to say. Instead she stepped back, bowing her head to Twilight a fraction.
"Goodbye, Twilight," she said, and turned away. The door closed before she had even reached the stairs.
11. Through loneliness, through bitterness, through legacy's cold burden
The heat of the noonday sun beat down on Star from a cloudless sky, one so deep and bright that it threatened to swallow the whole world in its infinite expanse. Bitter, baked earth and the oily stink of sun-bleached grass filled her nostrils, while her ears twitched at the sound of crackling undergrowth, as a momentary breeze eddied about her, rich with the scents of woodsmoke and roasting spices.
If she let herself, she could easily be convinced that she was alone and free, that she could run if she wanted it with enough strength. Leap through the grass toward the invisible horizon and never return. Her tail thrashed at the thrilling thought, and her heart along with it, until the moment had passed and reality once again pierced the happy illusion, on the back of distant voices and the clatter of silverware and all-too-expensive porcelain. Instead she closed her eyes and lowered her body to the dry earth to wait. They'd come for her, soon enough.
It wasn't long before she heard the crackle and crash of a body pressing through the long grass behind her, accompanied by a steady, rumbling monologue of the old gardener, Slowpoke, to some unnamed and unspeaking companion.
Star turned her head toward the voice, just as Slowpoke's own face emerged into her little clearing amongst the ornamental grasses to which she had retreated.
"Afternoon, your ladyship," he grunted, accompanied by a perfunctory flick of a hoof to his brow. "I hope you'll forgive the intrusion."
Star nodded, frowning just a little as a young unicorn tottered up at Slowpoke's side and curtsied in her general direction. "No intrusion, Slowpoke. I was just taking a moment away from everything."
"Right you are, ma'am, only that's prob'ly why young Sunrise here was wantin' to find you."
"Oh, the new girl."
The maid curtsied again. "Yes miss. Sunrise Song, miss."
"I'm well aware of your name." Star shuffled around to get a better look at the maid, whose pale yellow coat contrasted sharply with the the charcoal grey of her uniform. "Have they sent you on any more fool's errands this week?"
"Miss?"
"You know, like the time they all had you looking for a new doorknob turner? Though I personally thought the ceiling polish was much more creative an idea."
"Oh." Sunrise Song frowned and pouted at the revelation. "His Lordship asked me to find you, miss. He seems to be of the opinion that you're hiding, miss."
"Of course I'm hiding," said Star. She stretched out, not caring how her coat was rubbing into the earth. "I would prefer not to have anything to do with the cretins that always show up to every social event we host in this place."
Sunrise Song curtsied yet again. "Yes miss, only he was very specific that you speak to him, miss. It's about the Prince."
"He ain't here," Slowpoke added.
"Really?" Star put a hoof to her chest and rolled her eyes toward the sky. Then she grinned. "Suddenly the day doesn't seem quite so terrible. Sunrise, be a dear and tell Lucent that I shall be along in a moment, and if you so much as think of curtseying again," she added, with a stern glare in the maid's direction. "I shall not be held responsible for my behaviour."
Sunrise Song's eyebrows made a valiant attempt to meet her ears. She swallowed, stuttered a half-formed response and skittered away through the grass at a respectable clip.
A frown crossed Star's face as she watched the young mare's departure. She stretched out again, sighing quietly, and shook her head. "Whatever possessed Lucent to hire that girl?
"Ain't my place to say, your ladyship," Slowpoke drawled. "'Cept as it was Miss Shortbread's idea. She seemed keen to find the young filly a place."
"Oh? Well she wouldn't be the first butler with a sordid past." Star filed that piece of gossip away just in case she had to extort a favour from Shortbread. "Speaking of which, shouldn't yours be looking after the garden today? I thought it was your day off."
"Aye, but it's not as if I have anywhere to be," Slowpoke replied, stepping back to give Star room to stand. He tugged at his cap and grinned. "Sides, there's always a chance another rich old mare'll take an interest in the potting sheds."
"Slowpoke, your optimism is admirable," said Star, with a broad grin. "Now, shall we go and see what Luci wants?"
Slowpoke hesitated and then doffed his cap. "All the same to you, ma'am, I'd better be seein' to Dal. He's been workin' all mornin' without a break. It's liable to do things to his 'ead."
"Oh. By all means," Star said, though the gardener was already flopping his hat back on his head as he turned away. She watched him leave before she turned back toward the house.
It was an excuse, of course. He probably wanted to sneak away and drag at that pipe of his again, without having to listen to all the complaining from the 'great and good', or worse: the Housekeeper. Of course, in Josephine's case, it was more likely misplaced affection than any real concern over the habit. Star sighed and looked over her shoulder to where Slowpoke had departed. The old jack certainly could draw in the mares when he wanted. It was probably his smile.
And of course, Star's own seductions were entirely the result of her good temperament...
A well-tended lawn lay beyond the ornamental grass, flat as a billiards table and nearly as brightly coloured. At the far end, beneath the grey walls of the House, a dozen or so ponies meandered between the shade of a glowing-white gazebo and a brace of tables weight down with more food than most ponies would see in several months. A few were eating already, though most seemed content to sup at the overpriced contents of Lucent's cellar and waffle to one another about the meaningless trivia of Canterlot's social stage.
A few more adventurous ponies were exploring the nearby reaches of the gardens under the careful eyes of a scattering of maids. Including, Star noted, the young Sunrise Song, who skittered back and forth between the gazebo and a knot of ponies lurking within a bower some distance to the east, beneath the boughs of a carefully tended willow. Star leaned her trot toward that group, recognising Lucent's fabulous rump amidst the throng only a few moments before she recognised the equally familiar shape of Guard armour.
Lucent's ears twitched toward her as she approached and then he turned, half smiling, seemingly at ease until she saw the sinews standing proud across his shoulders and neck. She was at his side in moments, pressing herself against him as if to weld the pair of them together.
"Luci?" She tucked her nose under his cheek. "What's the matter? Where did these guards come from? They told me Blueblood wasn't coming."
Lucent's ears flattened. He inclined his head toward another pony resting beneath the tree, who Star had managed to miss before now, thanks to the clinging shadows that drew about her like the mists over a black-deep lake in the early dawn. Star blinked, and now it was Princess Luna beneath the tree, reclining regally in the shade and conversing quietly with a guard at her side.
Star peeked up at Lucent, who looked down at her with big, sad eyes and a downturned mouth. The quiet shuff of his hoof pawing at Slowpoke's carefully tended lawn completed the wordless request: please don't start throwing things at her again.
"I'll try," Star murmured, stepping around Lucent's front to face the Princess. "But I can't promise anything."
The guard – a Lieutenant by his barding – turned to look as Star approached. There was little to hide the disdain in his stance, though whether that was for Star's presence or his general surroundings was difficult to say. His nose twitched as Star halted before the pair, tugging his mouth into a smile that was only saved from being a sneer by how briefly it appeared. Behind him, Luna's smile was genuine and warm as a summer evening in comparison.
"I bring greetings, Star Sparkle," she said, inclining her head toward Star. Her gaze lowered a fraction. "It is pleasing to see you without the accompaniment of many small scrolls."
"I have some in my study," Star replied. She glanced at the guard. "But I suppose that can wait."
"Indeed. As for my own presence, I regret that my nephew was unable to appear at this gathering. I attend in his stead and offer his most sincere apologies, for he has suffered an unanticipated duty to the crown."
Star snorted again. "That sounds familiar. Still, I suppose I should be thankful her rumpness interfered if it means I don't have to sit through another one of Blueblood's boring speeches."
"I was not aware my sister bore such a title." Luna raised an eyebrow, facing Star fully for the first time as she did. "No matter. Star Sparkle, we thank you and your herd for allowing our presence this day. Now that our formal introductions are dispensed, I may partake of the feast which you have prepared for this occasion, whatever it might be."
"Did nobody explain to you?"
"Indeed not," Luna replied as she rose to her hooves. For the first time, Star noticed the exquisitely crafted vast concealed at her side, wrought in silver filigree and holding a dozen bone-white flowers that remained firmly closed despite the bright, noonday sun. "Except that it was to be a celebration of some sort."
Star frowned. "Truth be told, I'm not entirely sure myself. Oh it's probably something to do with Twilight's wedding, I suppose. I've been so busy recently, I've quite lost track."
"Indeed?" Luna glanced toward Lucent. "Twilight is to marry, then. It would seem that such vows are quite popular in this age."
"In this family, certainly," Star muttered. "If that's everything, your Highness, I think I'll return to my—"
"It is not, Star Sparkle."
Star rolled her eyes. "It never is with you two."
With another tilt of her head, Luna dismissed her remaining guards to some distant part of the gardens. Her mane, until now draped like willow branches about her neck, sprang to life in a scintillating cloud and she stepped, slowly, from beneath the shade of the tree to stand between Lucent and Star.
"Mín æfenléoht," she murmured, nuzzling at Lucent's neck. He tensed again at her touch, but then relaxed into it. His eyes closed a moment later.
"Please don't kill each other," he murmured.
The words seemed to surprise Luna. She drew back to look Lucent' square in the face. "Worry not, we are of an accord. Is this not so, Star Sparkle?"
"What? Oh, of course, absolutely." Star made a mental note to ask about that nickname later as she ducked under Luna's neck, where Lucent turned a sceptical eye to her. "Friends forever. See?"
"You'll forgive me if I'm still wary," Lucent replied, but then he closed his eyes and let out a long sigh, before dipping his nose at the roots of Luna's mane.
Peace, of a sort at any rate, settled between them, though Star soon found herself shuffling uncomfortably at Luna's closeness. The mare's dark coat was soaking up sunlight and radiating it right into Star's side, transforming the day from pleasantly warm to muggy and close.
For her part, Luna seemed annoyingly unperturbed by the heat; she wasn't even sweating.
The overbearing domesticity of it all was too much. Star grunted and stepped away, casting her head about until she found the maid, Sunrise Song, hovering nervously by the fidgeting whip-end of Luna's mane. Once Star had caught her eye she began to curtsey that ended in an awkward half crouch and a twitching, humourless grin.
"Never mind all that, Song," said Star, shaking her head. "Go and find Crinkle, or Crystal will do at a pinch. Have her come down and explain to the Princess what she's got herself into this time."
"Yes miss," Sunrise Song replied. She half turned, but then looked back with a frown. "Aren't you going to do that, miss?"
"What? Oh, certainly not, this is hardly my area of expertise. Besides," Star patted Song's shoulder and smiled. "I have an appointment with a drinks cabinet."
"Yes miss." Sunrise Song's legs quivered, but she remained upstanding, much to Star's amusement. "Is that all, miss?"
"For now." Star looked over her shoulder at Lucent, who was casually nibbling at Luna's withers while the Princess stared off into the distance with a vacant grin. "Be quick about it, though, or Lucent will ruin his appetite."
"Yes miss," Song repeated, before once again running from whatever imagined terrors Star might inflict on her, skirts flapping about her barrel as she disappeared into the bowels of the house.
Unfortunately a similar escape was not so easy for Star. She had taken only a single step when she felt the crackle of foreign magic crawling across her skin and lift her bodily into the air. It was gentle and practiced, powerful enough that she knew even she hadn't a hope of dispelling it. All Star could do was sigh and flop into its tender grasp as she was turned about and deposited unceremoniously at Luna's hooves.
"I suppose it's too much to expect royalty to take a hint," she muttered.
Luna dipped her head in a half shrug. "Persistence is one of my few virtues, Star Sparkle, though my sister does not always consider it so."
"Just Star is fine," said Star, mustering what little enthusiasm she had left. "Or Professor, if you must insist on formality."
"Of course." Luna took a step forward and raised her head as preparing to make a grand pronouncement. "Star."
Star looked back toward the house, then over at the party, which appeared to be getting along as well as could be expected for such a dense gathering. Lucent had already wandered away to mingle with the guests, something at which he was annoyingly adept even on a bad day. Scintilla was at his side, and her useless son at hers, probably nattering away about stock options and profits and property deals. Lucent seemed to sense Star's eyes upon him; he turned to smile at Star, before continuing whatever banal conversation he had been dragged into.
She'd probably have to join in with that soon, making pleasant with the great and good, lest they take a dim view of the family. "How can he stand to be around those simpering c—"
"My Pardon?" said Luna's voice over her head.
Star froze; she hadn't heard the Princess come closer, but now she could feel that heat against her side, like the sting of dry desert stone at the height of noon, and the tickling hint of an alien, dusty scent she couldn't quite place, akin to ash and burnt rock in a zebra fire pit, that pinched at the back of the nose and made Star want to sneeze. She cleared her throat instead, and turned her gaze from the crowd.
"Talking to myself," Star said. She brushed at her nose and cautiously stepped away from Luna's side once again.
"An unfortunate habit," Luna replied, airily. "Perhaps you might find greater pleasure in mutual intercourse."
Star opened her mouth, the obvious retort itching at the back of her throat, but then she paused. Could it have been intentional? From experience, Star knew that Luna still had difficulty shaking her archaisms, but even she couldn't be that dense. Surely? No, she was obviously hoping to get a rise out of Star. Best bluff it out. "Would you care to see the gardens while we talk, Princess?"
For a moment Luna stared at Star, stock still, save for a single twitch of her ears. She glanced over at the crowd, then looked over the rolling greenery, before turning an amused eye to Star.
"Of course," she said, with a shallow nod toward the nearest path. "Lay on, my friend."
It had to be deliberate. Star glanced along the path, which led back around the main lawn to her prior hiding spot but also required walking across the sight of the entire assembly. "I have a better idea," she said, moving back to Luna's side. "And since turnabout is always fair play..."
Before Luna could reply, Star's horn flashed, briefly wrapping the pair in a glittering, glass-like bubble that distorted the world beyond to elastic streaks of colour and shade. For an eternity that felt like a mere moment, her hooves touched the world twice. Then they were standing beneath the neatly trimmed branches of a rose arch, deep in the distant marches of the gardens.
Before them, surrounded by vine-tangled trellises and hanging gardens, lay a sun-soaked oval of sweet-grasses and scattered stones. A small pond bounded the far side, punctured by a fountain that danced and shivered in the golden sunlight.
Star lingered as Luna stepped out from beneath the arch, looking this way and that, ears dancing like trees in a gale.
"An impressive feat." Luna turned her head to look Star up and down, her gaze lingering longer than seemed necessary. "Such power is rare among ponies, especially in this age. It is little surprise that Celestia sought your daughter; the greater surprise is that she did not seek you or your kin before. I must question her on this matter."
"You won't get a straight answer about that," Star muttered, but Luna had already moved away.
The Princess glanced at Star and then, nostrils flaring, took a tentative step across the enclosure and its carpet of grass. She inhaled deeply, raising her lip as she took in the scents of the garden.
"What is this place? We feel we know it in some way."
"Luci calls it his meadow. He comes here sometimes when he's trying to get away from everything." Star slowed and leaned down to crop at the grass. She could feel Luna's eyes on her as she raised her head. "Terrible habit," she mumbled around her mouthful. "But it tastes too good to just leave it lying around."
Luna raised an eyebrow, though a moment later she leaned forward to snuff experimentally at the grass. Then, humming quietly, she lifted her head and turned to look at the fountain.
"I recall that our ponies once did lay this grass at the door to our temples on Celestia's solstice," she murmured. "The aroma, when trampled, was said to please us so that Celestia might not burn up the whole earth, nor I swallow it in the darkness to come. " She leaned forward to take an experimental nibble at the meadow. When she raised her head again, she was smiling. "They would gather it on the borders of Freóganholt, on the road from Mandenu to our old palace. There they would come together from across the world to worship us as the gods we so obviously are not."
Star's chewing slowed. She swallowed her mouthful and moved through the grass in a slow circle to Luna's side. "That old earth pony talk sounds like the sort of thing Doctor Roola would be interested in. Maybe you should speak to her."
Princess Luna didn't answer. Instead she pawed at the grass, before lowering her nose to it once again to take a deep breath.
"All right, now that we're here." Star tossed her head and cleared her throat. "What is it you wanted to know?"
A wind rustled the grass, which finally drew Luna from her reverie. She looked across at Star and tilted her head. "I might have thought that would be obvious by now, Star."
"Perhaps, perhaps... I've spent too long around the so-called nobility to trust anything so obvious." Star paused to watch Luna for a reply, but received only a raised eyebrow. Of course. "Princess. Luna. He'd crawl to tartarus and back on his belly if he thought it would please your highness and grant him a sniff under your tail."
"Of this I am fully aware," Luna replied, showing more candour than her sister might. "If it must be spoke plain, then. Lucent is a fine and noble stallion. I have seen his dreams and we have spoken often of his passions, and I find his companionship most enriching. In days past, I would have bade him attend my court each night of every season."
"He is rather pretty," said Star. She moved toward the far side of the bower, where another arch opened up to a shady copse."But I can't imagine what you'd do with him in the royal court other than have him stand around in a nice suit. Or out of one, perhaps?"
Luna's laughter was surprisingly quiet given her reputation, less hammering iron than the chime of silver coins falling on silk. She tramped about on the spot, turning to follow Star while a cloud of glittering grass-seed fell in her wake. Star could only sigh in her mind at the lack of care that seemed to be the hallmark of the alicorn; she would have been picking seed from her mane for weeks afterwards.
Perhaps revelling in the fact of her effortless perfection, Luna sighed tossed her head.
"In those former days, my sister an I did not hold courts of mere petition and audience," she said, examining each new plant they passed. "To be at court was to serve our whims and desires as we saw fit, whether that might be through conversation, or the arts, or the intimacies and pleasures of simple companionship."
Beyond the arch, Luna halted once again. Her mane was wilting as Star watched, drawn down about her neck like a curtain, as if the effort of keeping its ephemeral form was more than the Princess could bear to exert. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
"Truly, we have not held court since our return, for our sister feels it... unbecoming. As so much else enjoyable seems to be in this age." Luna looked askance at Star with a disconcertingly shy smile, turning away once again. "Once he would have been ours by right and we would have delighted in him as intimately as he delights in our stars. Now I must seek permission and favour merely to admire such beauty as his from afar."
She sighed and looked away to the curtain of greenery around her. "Yet he is a fine stallion," she concluded.
Star paused again, looking about. More willows faced her, surrounding a slender marble folly that, on lazy summer evenings, had once been a regular hiding spot for her, Lucent and far too much wine. She put the memories of what they'd done to the place from her mind, pleasant though they might be.
Luna, already climbing the shallow steps to the folly, turned to face Star. With one hoof raised to the last step, standing athwart the marble portico, she might have been the central figure in a classical painting, addressing the attentive crowd.
"When last we spoke, your concern with the distant past remembered to me those days when your forebears did stand as the most loyal of the cohorts that once raised and lowered the sun and moon." Luna lowered her gaze to Star, whatever emotions she had shown before now hidden behind a studiously neutral mask. "When I chanced to look upon them, I found that your family still remains on the registers even today, a proud testament to their legacy. Yet there is a curiosity. While those worthy others of your generation are marked upon it, both sisters and brothers alike, your own name appears absent, Star Sparkle."
For a moment Star was unable to speak. Details. It was always details that caught her out. She nodded, forcing her ears forward. "I hadn't really thought about it."
"An oversight, perhaps," Luna continued. "One I intend to remedy. It shall be our courting gift."
Star looked up. Luna was watching her now, no longer guarded; her whole face was alive with curiosity, so much like Twilight Velvet's had been whenever they had been uncovering some new historical secret together.
"That's rather more than a gift. If I didn't know better I'd think you were buying my loyalty for some reason." She raised her eyebrow and grinned at Luna. "Planning another coup, perhaps?"
With a flick of her ears, Luna looked away. "You jest."
"Ponies do keep leaving me the opportunity." Star trotted up the stairs to Luna's side. "It would be a waste not to."
The joke might as well have been thrown at a wall for all the response it got. Princess Luna resumed her climb, her steel-shod hooves ringing against the marble paving as she passed beneath the portico and through to the colonnade surrounding the folly.
Star followed, finding Luna just a few steps beyond the threshold. After a moment's hesitation, she leaned up against Luna's shoulder, or at least as far up it as she could reach. Now they were out of the sun, Luna's body, that had radiated like a furnace, felt cool as a shady meadow, or the inside of an ancient temple.
"You know, if you're truly intent on Lucent's heart, you don't need to bribe us with gifts."
Luna looked down at Star with empty eyes. She looked lost, as if everything she saw was unfamiliar and strange."Then how am I to gain your favour?"
"My favour? If you're going to ask a pony like me a question like that, Princess, you had better be damn sure you want to hear the answer." Star stepped away to lean against a pillar, glancing toward the entrance as she moved. "Besides, I'm not the one you'll need to convince."
Luna looked askance at Star, one eyebrow rising slowly for a moment. "Are you not Lucent's—"
"Oh he's well in harness, don't you worry about that," said Star across her back.
Luna turned to stalk the perimeter of the folly, shoes ringing soft against the stone. She paused a moment to look back at Star with a curious frown, but soon lost her attention again to the greenery beyond their little stone cage. Star likewise looked away to stare at the garden, though her thoughts were on a dusty book of names, and the inevitable results should Luna try to place hers amongst them.
"I would gain your favour even so, Star Sparkle," Luna said, quite interrupting Star's thoughts. "You and I, though we spake often, know little of one another. You avoid me, I fear for no other reason than that I am Celestia's sister. Were I to seek Lucent's companionship as I desire, then I must know you."
"I have to admit—" Star leaned against a column and looked across at Luna "—that's the oddest attempt at seduction I've ever encountered."
Luna's snort echoed about the folly. "You misunderstand my intent," she said, bowing her head. "It is acceptance and companionship that I seek from you, nothing more or less. I confess, handsome as you may be, I find myself drawn to a pony less..." for a moment, Luna chewed at her lip. She took a breath. "Less plump."
Before she could stop herself, Star's eyes flicked to her rear, drawing her whole head with them in turn. Luna's muffled giggle was not easily ignored.
"Too many dumplings," Star snorted, returning her attention to Luna. "Companionship I can certainly supply, if you don't mind me using you as an occasional short-cut to some historical mystery or other. Acceptance?"
A breeze sprang up, ruffling Star's mane across her brow, while its quiet rustling of the trees outside accentuated the yawning silence between the two of them. She turned to watch the passing wind as it tugged shimmering waves in the grass.
"I'd have to know what that means," she murmured. Then she smiled. "We should get back. I still have that drink to find."
Luna didn't reply, save to bow her head and hold out her hoof for Star to proceed.
Their journey back was short; Star led Luna along the back paths used by the gardeners, cutting around the intricately constructed hedges, bowers and carefully tended groves that gave the gardens the illusion of depth and space. Luna seemed fascinated, peering this way and that as they walked, dipping her head into the sunlit nooks and lawns and remarking each time on how private and yet how open they appeared, before returning to their shaded course.
Those paths too were a private space, in their own way; a sanctuary for Slowpoke, his son and the miniscule staff he oversaw and he made good use of that sanctuary too, judging by the tar-black dottles littering every step of the paths, still ripe with the earthy stench of sun-aged tobacco.
After stepping squarely in the fifth such, Star decided that she must explain to Slowpoke the concept of fire safety and then find out how he'd managed to go on for so long without burning the entire place to the ground.
They emerged from the fringe of a copse, at the very border of the main lawn, mere paces from the party proper. For a moment Star slowed, watching the staff as they circled the event, plying guests with laden trays of far-too-expensive drinks and sickly, over-decorated sweets at which even Crincile might turn up her nose.
As the pair trotted toward the crowd, a trio of guards slipped from the shadow of the trees and snaked around them, though thankfully the sneering Lieutenant was not amongst their number. The nearest bobbed his head at Star whilst the others conferred in muted whispers with Luna, before departing with the same silent grace as their arrival.
"They wished merely to ensure I was safe," Luna said to Star, unprompted except perhaps by her own conscience. "Now let us feast at last!"
"By all means, your Highness," said Star as she trailed in Luna's high-headed wake.
The party had already gravitated toward the Princess, no doubt drawn by her wit and intelligence and not something so base as the need to be seen in proximity to a Princess of the realm, which left Star off by herself. She wondered if she should barge in, seat herself at luna's side. Make the claim as her old gran would have put it, but of course that old duffer had still owned a set of halters and whips, even if they were never used in anger, so any advice from that quarter was highly suspect.
It struck Star then that she was almost treating Luna as a male, a thing to be caged and protected and made her own. Maybe it was just the size of the mare. She towered over every pony around her. Even Lucent, who had belatedly found his way to her side and where he was giving a far-too-literal demonstration of rubbing shoulders with royalty, appeared small and slight in comparison to her towering, sharply defined body.
While she watched, a pony slumped down at star's side. It was Crystal, bearing a tray and two glasses on her outstretched hoof, which she set between them. She was nude, unusual for her at the best of times, but especially in such a gathering as this, and yet she still made Star feel underdressed.
"Frustrating, isn't it," said Crystal. She picked up a glass and tipped it in a mocking salute toward the crowd. "Being left out of the mob, I mean. Pushed to the edge while everypony else gets all the juicy gossip."
Star took a sip of her wine. "I wouldn't know about that."
"Of course," Crystal replied, eyeing the rim of her glass as she slowly turned it between her hooves. Then she tipped it back, swallowing the entire contents in a single motion. "But you're missing out all the same. Take that young Fleur de Lis for instance."
"Who?" Star looked around the crowd until guided to the mare in question by Crystal's subtly aimed hoof. "Oh."
"You know how she's always dragging that young stallion around with her? Well–"
"Crystal." Star held up a hoof. "If this is going to be another earful of all your latest rumour-mongering about ponies in whom I have no interest whatsoever, you can save it for someone else."
Crystal set her glass on the lawn and eyed Star a moment, narrowing her eyes. "The girls want to talk," she said. "You've been alone with the Princess from very nearly the moment she arrived. It's got us all wondering what you're planning next."
Star put her own drink to one side, unfinished. It was clear she'd need something stronger before the day was through.
"And you think that's left you pushed to the edge, do you?"
"We just want to be sure you aren't making any decisions without our input."
"You mean Scintilla's input."
Crystal pawed at the grass, tugging a not insubstantial divot from the lawn, but didn't rise to the barb. Instead she snatched up Star's drink and took half of it in a noisy gulp.
"Drawing room," she grunted. "Ten minutes."
Star waited until Crystal had returned to the crowd before letting herself breathe. She looked toward Lucent, but there was no advice to be had from him this time; his eyes were entirely on the Princess. Perhaps he was counting constellations in her mane.
It was Luna that gave Star the impetus to finally move. The Princess looked at Lucent, her eyes roving over his face and back, then turned her attention to Star, smiling with a shyness unbecoming a creature so powerful. It was a familiar smile, one Star remembered from the mirror, the day she had first found Lucent. A smile she seldom saw today.
She wanted it to be an act, a feigned innocence designed to trap her in some way, but then she recalled their earlier conversation in the folly, when Luna had appeared so utterly abandoned to a world entirely alien, and before that, when she had been so – so open, casually speaking stories of the past that would have required several crowbars and a dozen hefty stallions to lever from the grip of Celestia's gritted teeth.
The drink that had been at her hooves would have suited Star about now. It had been a rather bubbly affair. She snorted and glared about until she spotted Sunrise Song, lurking, leaf-like, at the periphery of the party. Their eyes locked. Star barged toward her, offering perfunctory greetings to the mares and stallions she passed, while Song's face stretched taut against itself and her eyes darted back and forth, seeking an escape she must surely have known would not be found.
"Song!" Star clapped a hoof across Sunrise Song's shoulder and grinned at her. "Just the mare I wanted to see."
"Yes, miss, but I'm sorry miss." Sunrise Song's legs quivered as reflex fought against ancient survival instincts. "Only I couldn't find her ladyship to explain things, miss, and then you'd gone when I got back, miss, and the Princess was missing–"
"Something you'd know a lot about," Star cut in. She patted Sunrise Song's confused head and grinned. "Never mind all that, I'm sure you did your best. Go fetch Shortbread, have her buttle up something old and red to the drawing room."
"Yes miss," said Song, while her legs shivered against one another. "Right away, miss. Is it an occasion, miss?"
"Possibly," said Star. "Possibly. Run along now, there's a good girl. And don't trip over yourself."
"Yes, miss!"
Sunrise Song scuttled away, pausing briefly to curtsey to a vine-draped planter on the verandah. It was cruel to torment her so, Star knew, but she made it so very easy. Grinning despite herself, Star stalked over the verandah and into the house.
The dining room was cool when she entered, dim after the bright noonday sun, and utterly silent. Stepping light, she crossed the room and stopped by the drawing room door at the far end, ears perked for the sound of conversation. There was precious little. She could hear Twilight Velvet muttering at the edge of hearing, but who she was speaking to, or what about, was impossible to discern. After a moment to compose herself, Star opened the door.
The girls were all there, arrayed about the drawing room like a particularly louche inquisition. Star waited for the door to close behind her before moving inward. "So." She brushed a hoof against her chest. "I understand there's been some talk."
To Star's left, Scintilla snorted. She was glaring at the wall when Star turned to look at her, lounged across a couch as if she was utterly relaxed, though her back and neck fair quivered with tension. She glanced around the room before fixing her gaze on Star.
"We've been discussing our future," she said.
"So Crystal tells me." Star nodded toward the mare in question, noting the fresh drink nestled in the crook of Crystal's hoof. She must have picked it up on the way in. "Though I'm not sure what there is to discuss."
Scintilla licked her lips and looked about the room again, perhaps winding up her courage. "For starters, the fact that there's already six mares in this herd. It's hard enough getting attention as is, now you're talking about adding another."
"That's hardly fair," said Twilight, from her perch by the window. She turned from watching the party and tilted her head at Scintilla. "Lucent and Glint have been more than considerate."
"Maybe, but they're not getting any younger. Sooner or later we'll need to think about courting another stallion."
Sighes echoed around the room, which Star found herself joining without prompting. From the far corner she heard Cinnamon's plaintive mutter of "here we go". Yet if Scintilla had been put off by the reaction, she didn't show it. She hopped from her couch and faced Star square on.
"If you're so set on having her, then I think it's high time we discussed catering to the rest of this herd as well." She smirked. "Lucent can't keep it up forever and adding another mare will just wear him out all that much sooner. We need another stallion."
"And I suppose you're proposing that Prince," said Star. "I'm not making that mistake twice."
"And I'm not having that greasy, dick-waving carpet crawler anywhere near me," Twilight added, shuddering. "Besides, he's related to Luna."
"Not by blood."
Twilight rolled her eyes. "They call him their nephew! Even if he's not directly related, they act like his is. Why should we invite that kind of scandal?"
"Yeah, we've already got Star," Cinnamon added with a snicker. She returned Star's glare with a smug grin and a flap of her wing.
A knock at the door prevented Star from speaking her mind on that particular topic. She turned, stepping back as the door swung aside to admit the butler, Shortbread, and a maid with a laden tray on her back. Shortbread halted just inside the door, holding her nose high, and gave the room an ostentatious bow.
"Your wine, as you requested, m'lady," she murmured to Star. "As you specified only something old and red, I took the liberty of decanting the eleven ninety-six L'ecurie Sainte Poitevin for your consideration."
Crincile, quiet until now, rose from her seat beside Twilight. "A rather appropriate choice, I feel," she murmured as she stepped forward. "Thank you, Shortbread. Leave it on the table. We can pour for ourselves."
"M'lady." Shortbread twitched her head at the maid, who deftly shunted the a decanter and a half dozen glasses from her back to a slender table at Crincile's side. The pair bowed and retreated without a word.
Once the door had closed, Crincile tugged the heavy glass stopper from the decanter and lifted it to her nose for a moment. She poured a long measure into a glass and raised it up, inspecting the contents through narrowed eyes.
"We are in an enviable position," she said. Then she took a sip of the wine, closing her eyes a moment as she savoured the taste. "Two royals sniffing around our flanks. Any of the herds outside would sell their prime studs for just one."
"One is all that matters," Scintila replied. Crystal, behind her, remained silent. "What does Princess Luna bring except more competition for the rest of us? Can Alicorns even foal?"
"She makes Lucent happy," said Twilight, before Star could think to reply. They shared a look; Star tipped her head a fraction and got just the hint of a smile in return. "He's more attentive when he's happy."
"Foals aren't everything, especially at our age," Crincile added. She sipped at her wine, while her glittering eyes remained fixed on Scintilla. "As my mother told me on countless occasions, legacy is more than the product of your loins."
"Easy for you to say."
The words had slipped out before Star could stop them. Yet, when she looked toward Crincile, she found not anger, or resentment. Not even pity. Instead she smiled.
"It is," she said. "I don't have a choice. If I am to have any legacy at all, it must be from what I do and say, rather than who I produce. I am sure that the Princess, if she cannot foal, must feel the same way."
Crincile resumed pouring the wine, passing oversized glasses to each in turn. To a mare they received the wine with suitable courtesy, though Scintilla sniffed carefully at hers and grimaced before setting the glass aside. Crystal, for her part, down her share in two noisy swallows and slumped back into her seat.
Finally there came Star. Crincile held out a glass, but hesitated a moment. Their eyes met, Crincile's gaze as bright and hard as the glass she bore, and though her smile seemed warm there was an edge to it that Star had rarely seen before.
She snatched the glass from Crincile's magic and took a swig, whilst glaring around the room. Twilight and Cinnamon were staring into their drinks, though while Cinnamon seemed enraptured by the glittering surface, Twilight appeared to be lost entirely, bearing the same expression Luna had worn in the folly.
"She makes him happy," Star echoed. She turned on Scintilla, rolling her glass back and forth. The wine had lost her interest. It was too dry and bitter for her taste anyway. "If he's as set on Luna as she appears to be on him, then it's foolish to get in their way. Do you want him to look down on you as the mare that broke his heart?"
For a moment, Scintilla seemed to back down as she refused to return Star's gaze, or Crincile's for that matter. Instead she stared at her wine, murmuring under her breath until her ears abruptly rolled back against her head.
"I'm trying to negotiate," she snarled, raising her gaze to Star. "If we have Luna, then we should have Blueblood to make things easier on Lucent. We can figure out more detailed arrangements later. I don't see why you're all being so unreasonable about this."
"There's nothing unreasonable about respecting Lucent's wishes to be as far away from Blueblood as physically possible," said Star. She glanced at Twilight again, then closed her eyes and took a breath. "It was bad enough when I left him alone with Blueblood for just a few hours. I'm not going to compound that mistake by forcing them to live together."
"Then we have a problem."
Scintilla looked over her shoulder at Crystal, who after a moment slid from her seat to stand at Scintilla's side. They conferred in harsh whispers that Star couldn't quite hear no matter how she strained. Then Crystal nodded and resumed her seat, though not before refilling her glass from the nearly depleted decanter.
"If we can't have Blueblood and Lucent in the same herd," said Scintilla, "then I shall simply have to choose between them."
Twilight's ears rose "You'd do that? After all this time?"
"I'm afraid Scintilla is quite set on the Prince," Crystal replied. She swirled her glass and took a long draught. The corners of her mouth turned down as she spoke. "I'd rather not lose Lucent."
"It's a small loss if we can have Blueblood," said Scintilla. She rolled her eyes Star's amused snort. "Lucent would have made it easier for us to court him, but we can still pursue him on our own terms."
"What terms?" Star shook her head as she tried to hold back a cold laugh. "There's more stallions in his herd than mares at this point. What makes you think he'd be interested in you?"
"Oh he won't be interested in me." Scintilla narrowed her eyes and grinned at Star. "He'll be interested in Glint. Crystal and I would simply go along for the ride."
"Absolutely not," Twilight and Star replied in unison. They looked at one another, Star as unable to hide her surprise as Twilight. They shared a brief, awkward smile.
"You can't expect Lucent to just let you take Glint from him," said Star, returning her attention to Scintilla. "They're closer than brothers."
"Brothers who fuck," Cinnamon murmured. It was a moment before she realised the others were glaring at her. She blushed and tried to hide behind her wings.
"Perversions aside..." Crystal set her glass down on the table at her side, though she hesitated to lift her hooves from it for just a moment. "They may be close, but that doesn't change the fact that we brought Glint into this herd. We have every right to take him out of it again."
"Oh so now you own him, do you?" Star pressed a hoof to her forehead and closed her eyes. "I would have thought you of all ponies would be beyond that sort of thing, Crystal."
Silence followed the remark, then Crystal let out a quiet gasp and a sniffle, and turned her head away, as if that would hide the flattening of her ears. None of Crystal's usual acidic retorts and knowing smiles. Evidently the jibe had cut deeper than Star expected.
"Taking Glint from this herd is out of the question," she repeated.
"There's nothing to stop us," Scintilla said, ignoring how Crystal flinched at her words. "And I'm sure we could convince the Prince to provide some sort of compensation."
Twilight stepped to Star's side. "I wouldn't care if he offers the entirety of Platinum's harem, you are not having Glint as some sort of bargaining chip in whatever half-baked plan you've concocted for yourself. Lucent won't stand for it. Neither would the rest of us."
"You may say that now while Star is here to yank his halter, but once Lucent realises that Glint is the price for having Luna then I'm sure he'll see things my way. It's a nice, simple exchange." Scintilla smirked at Star. And then she gave the room a bubbly little grin and bounced twice on her hooves. It was all Star could do to restrain herself from turning around to kick Scintilla in her giddy little head.
Before she could think of a suitably acerbic response, Crincile stepped forward again with the decanter, offering the remaining wine first to Scintilla, then to Star once Scintilla had refused.
"It seems to me that Star would be unlikely to allow any such thing to happen, regardless of where in the world she might be," Crincile said as she refilled Star's glass. "I'm sure you recall Lucent's reaction the last time you suggested such a split. And Star's, when she returned."
"She'd been gone for years! What was I supposed to do, just sit around and wait until somepony took up the reins?"
"Show a little loyalty, perhaps," Crincile replied. "And understand that there are other, more important things to consider than your own personal advantage before making such a disruptive decision."
Scintilla's eyes darted from Crincile, to Star and Twilight, to Crincile again. "You're saying I have no choice."
"No, she's saying that the choice you want isn't the choice you have." Star paused to chuckle and shake her head. "It's a pain I understand far too well, my dear."
"Now, Twilight is about to embark on a new chapter of her life. It would behoove us to stand united behind her as a family, to demonstrate to her that she has all of our support." Crincile tucked a hoof under Scintilla's chin and ran it gently along the length of her jaw. " I shouldn't have to point out to you that we are an influential family, possibly one of the most influential in Canterlot at this point. We have the ear of the Princesses, we have royals courting us left and right. We have kept all of this because we've stayed together for so long, but it's only because of Twilight that we had that close relationship with the royal family in the first place."
Scintilla's head leaned into Crincile's touch, until she abruptly tore herself away. "He would have noticed me anyway," she muttered.
"The wedding is just a few months away," Crincile replied. She was smiling again as she returned to her seat. "We can wait that long to discuss our future together."
"As long as Lucent is there," Star added. "And Luna, if she joins us."
"I certainly think that every member of this herd should be present for such an important decision." Crincile's ears twitched at a knock on the door. She turned and seated herself. "Anything else would be improper. Enter!"
The door cracked open just wide enough to admit the short, yellow nose of Sunrise Song. "Begging your pardons, misses." She nosed into the room and curtseyed to a bookshelf, then trotted toward Star, shoulders hunched as if walking against a strong wind. "His Lordship asked for you all in the gardens, miss. Says there's an announcement needs to be made."
"Is there, now?" Star glanced at Twilight by her side, then at Scintilla, and smiled without humour at the mare's obvious discomfort. "Thank you, Song. Go tell Lucent we'll be out in a moment."
"Miss," Sunrise Song mumbled as she scampered back to the door.
"I suppose that settles that," Twilight murmured once the door had closed. She sighed and dropped her head. "Happy as it makes me to see him so high-spirited, I have no idea what he sees in that mare."
"Oh I know exactly what he sees in her," said Star. She stood a moment, revelling in warmth of Twilight's unexpected closeness, but soon had to tear herself away to face Scintilla.
The mare was glaring at her, jaw working viciously, as if stuffed with a particularly chewy knot of grass. "I suppose you think it's funny," she grunted.
Star shrugged. "A little. To be honest, I'd be happy to see the back of you, but then we're all part of this herd for reasons that go beyond any requirement to actually like one another and I'd really rather it stick together for now. Besides, Lucent would be upset if you left. I think he's rather fond of you"
A frown crossed Scintilla's face and she opened her mouth, but then closed it again without speaking. She backed away from Star a step and then turned, awkwardly, to trot for the door, pausing only to beckon Crystal with a jerk of her head.
One leg at a time, Crystal slid from her seat and shuffled across the room. She halted in front of Star and looked at her, but if she had anything to say, she too was keeping it hidden. After gazing into Star's eyes, Crystal lowered her head and, ears crushed against her skull, sloped after Scintilla and out of the door.
In the silence, Star found herself looking back at Twilight, at her face that had once borne nothing but love for her, then nothing but contempt for so many years. Now? Star looked, but couldn't see.
Twilight looked up, noticed Star's attention. A shy smile tugged at her lips and she looked away, giving Star the opportunity to inch closer to her erstwhile lover.
The years had been kind to Twilight, far kinder than to Star, whose mane was lank and silvered, and coat warn and salted in comparison. Twilight's body was sleek, her perfectly brushed coat highlighting every curve and cleft of her. Perfection, or near as made no difference, wrought in spun glass. It was a wonder Lucent and Glint didn't take her to bed every night.
"I was listening, you know."
Star's head jerked back. She twisted to look Twilight in the eye. "Oh?"
"What you said about Lucent. About not leaving him with Blueblood again." Twilight tipped her head a fraction. "It was very kind."
"Never let it be said I don't admit my mistakes," said Star. She looked over her shoulder at the door, just as Cinnamon was skipping through it. She sighed. "Scintilla might be one of them."
Twilight shook her head and leaned, briefly, against Star's shoulder. "She brought us Glint. That was enough."
There was more that could be said to that, but for once Star was disinclined to argue. Instead she lowered her head to Twilight's withers and nibbled at the roots of her mane.
"I'm still mad at you," said Twilight, though she sighed and leaned into Star's touch.
"I know." Star snuffed and breathed in the scent of Twilight's mane. Jasmine and fresh-cut grass. It was glorious. "I'll probably give you more reason before the day is over."
She sighed, waiting for life to do the inevitable and ruin her day, but for once it seemed to want to leave her alone. How novel. Star closed her eyes and tore herself from Twilight's side with an overblown groan of effort. For a moment it seemed that Twilight wanted to move with her, to maintain their touch, but it had to be an illusion.
"Come on," she said to the room at large, twitching her ears toward Crincile and taking a step toward the door. "We should go and see what new anarchy this family is loosing upon the world."
Silence followed Star, the room echoing with only her own hoofsteps. When she looked back she saw Twilight joined by Crincile, the two conferring in near silence. Then Crincile looked toward Star, expressionless, so that even her ears were still. She set her lips against Twilight's forehead, at the very root of her horn, before walking past Star and out of the room.
Twilight's gaze followed her, before falling on Star. She took a step, then another, but the third broke with her leg raised and her body quivering, ready for flight.
Star moved back to Twilight, unable to keep the frown from her face. "Twilight–"
"Don't leave," Twilight breathed. Then, before Star could answer, she pushed past her and clattered from the room.
Star waited, breathing in the silence, while her magic sought the drink she had abandoned and pulled it close to her head. She didn't drink from it though, not yet. Instead she sauntered to the door and peered out into the dining room.
Crincile was there, by the verandah, staring out at the crowded lawn, still holding her own glass of wine in both hooves. She looked over her shoulder at Star and raised the glass in a sort of salute and smiled one of those private little smiles that hide so much more than they convey.
Star swigged at her wine and joined Crincile by the window, and together the pair sat until they had finished their drinks, while the rest of their herd gathered around Lucent, and Luna and the vase she had seen earlier, and watched as the Princess's magic shaded her gift from the sun until each flower opened to reveal petals as black as midnight.
The atmosphere of the room was close and hot as a a still summer night. Bodies pressed close to her on all sides, writhing rhythmically, silently against her sodden coat, crushing against her rump and back, filling every nook with searing flesh and ticklish hair.
She hissed as broad teeth nibbled the edge of her jaw and the roots of her mane, as steaming breath poured over her neck and shoulders; sighed as legs and arms gripped tight about her body with growing, shivering intensity; gasped at the firm, slow thrust of Lucent within her yet again, and again, his pace quickening to a gallop even as it began to stumble.
There was no shared orgasm this time. Star had spent herself long ago, driven to her final, exhausting frenzy after what felt like hours of teasing from Lucent and Glint's tongues and twitching hooves. She lay still, panting, as Lucent finished inside her, grunting ecstasy through teeth still clenched at her mane.
At last he let out a plaintive sigh and rolled from Star's back, his already dying penis trailing a hot, yet chilling trail over her hip. Star let out a sign of her own, quickly followed by a gasp as she felt a tongue eagerly lapping at her side. She twisted awkwardly to look at her new attacker and found Glint, his tongue splayed out across her mark, grinning back at her.
"Couldn't wait your turn?"
Glint withdrew his tongue and made a show of swallowing before he spoke. "You had him for so long, I was worried you'd never finish."
"You and me both," said Crincile at Star's ear, though her voice was little more than a sleepy murmur. "If I wanted solo canter I could have stayed in my apartments."
Glint huffed and dipped his head toward Lucent's crotch, but that only brought him a grunted protest as Lucent rolled away from his abortive ministrations.
"I'm not the stallion I used to be, you know," Lucent murmured. "You'll have to wait a while."
"You can see to me while you do," said Crincille, before draping herself over Star's back. She laid a kiss on Glint's shoulder. "Play your cards right and you won't even need Lucent."
"It's not the same," Glint replied, returning the kiss. He nipped at Crincile's jaw, eliciting a sleepy giggle from the mare, before moving in to kiss her on the cheek. "Not nearly."
Crincile giggled again as Glint shuffled toward her, trailing kisses down her neck to her shoulder, until Star loudly cleared her throat. "If you don't mind," she groused, "I'd really rather not play futon to the pair of you."
"I rather thought you'd be used to it," Crincile said as she heaved herself from Star's back. She waited as Star crawled up from between the pair, before crawling up between Glint's hooves and nuzzling at his neck.
"If you wanted a doormat you could drag Twilight in here," Star grunted, but neither Crincile nor Glint were listening now, their cuddling having turned to a frantic, grunting tussle. Evidently their need for Lucent was less than they had claimed. For now.
She rolled away from the two, dodging Crincile's flailing legs, and fell down at Lucent's back. A moment later he rolled over to grasp her, pressing cold sweat into her coat while his lips caught against her forehead. With a contented sigh, Star closed her eyes.
When she opened them again the sun had set, though she felt no more rested from her exertions. Lucent was still holding her, still cold and sticky. Worse still, the pair at her back were still hard at it. How they could keep it up for so many hours–
"Celestia's cunt!"
The bed shuddered as Lucent bucked from her grasp, and again as Glint followed. In the distance, Star heard the clatter of falling crockery and a stifled scream. She rolled over, panting, as she tried to focus on the windows and the darkening sky beyond.
She stumbled from the bed, joining Lucent close to the window, but a step removed from it, as if they could hide from the baleful, shrinking light that struggled to shine through it. Behind her, Crincile was praying. Not to Celestia, but to the old gods that their people had abandoned long ago.
In the sky over Canterlot, with a ponderous, inaudible intensity that Star felt in her very soul, the last slivering crescent of the moon slid across the face of the sun and plunged the world into darkness.
* * *
She had expected the servants to flee. That was how it went in all the adventures, when the world was about to end, wasn't it? The nameless, gormless underclass were supposed to disappear into the shadows and not be heard from again, until a bright young mare took charge and saved the world and showed them the true meaning of love, or some such rot.
Instead, after a brief panic, the stolid staff had resumed their work as if nothing were amiss, though their nervous glances were not entirely hidden in the shadows of hastily lit gas lamps. If Star had wished to convince herself that all was right with their little corner of the world, the illusion would have withered before the grim visage of the Housekeeper as she herded a pair of maids into the drawing room, both pushing trays of snacks and warm drinks.
The usually forthright Josephine hovered uncertainly by the door as the maids set about serving tea to all present, and though she tried to hide it, her eyes kept darting to the darkened windows. The unnatural night had fallen only half an hour ago, but the air was already starting to chill, even within the house.
She waited still as the maids departed, but remained by the door.
"Begging your pardon, m'lord," she said, turning her attention to Lucent, who lurked in a wing-backed chair in the corner, wrapped in a thick velvet gown. "Shortbread has asked I relay her apologies for her absence. She was out the door and off to the city the moment the sun– um. Said she had to tend to her old mother."
"That's good of her," Lucent murmured. His eyes were closed. "Thank you, Josephine. That will be all."
Josephine's mouth worked a moment, as if she wanted to say more. Instead she bowed her head a moment, then looked at Star. The question she wanted to ask was obvious.
"The Princess will take care of everything." Crincile emerged from shadows that had hidden her so completely that Star had forgotten she was even in the room. "Go and find Twilight Velvet, please. I'm sure she'll appreciate your help with Guiding Light."
"Ma'am," Josephine replied, before shuffling from the room.
The silence that came in the wake of her departure was oppressive. Given the low lighting, the room should have felt more like an intimate evening than some twisted council of despair. Star glanced toward the window again, where the now bright, blank face of the moon glared haughtily over the land.
"She's not coming, is she," said a shaking voice. Star blinked. It was a moment before she realised it had been her own. She looked at Lucent and licked her too-dry lips.
"Whatever fate has befallen her–" Lucent abruptly rose from his seat and strode to the window. "No doubt the court is already preparing a succession. Organising the cohorts. I shall have to attend."
"We'll come with you," Crincile said, before Star could say the same. Lucent turned his head and nodded to them.
Star reached her magic toward the bell pull, but then thought better of it and stalked toward the door instead. A maid had just passed by when she opened it; Star leaned out and hurried her to have the coach prepared, then shut the door again.
"The two of us will be enough. We can't leave Glint by himself and I doubt the others would want to go out in this... whatever it is," she said.
"And there's Twilight's foal to think of," Crincile added.
Lucent turned from the window, though when he looked at Star it was only as if by habit. His mind was elsewhere entirely. "It may not matter. The moon is–"
His jaw snapped shut. Lucent shivered his head, ruffling his mane every which way, and turned to the door. He paused when he opened it and looked around the room. "I must say goodbye to our children."
He smiled briefly. Then he was gone.
* * *
As the crow flies, the Palace was only a short distance from Lachrimose House, barely more than a few kilometres, but the roads between the two were so circuitous and narrow, and so crowded once they came close to the city proper, that the journey felt ten times longer. There had been many a time when Star had wished for the gift of flight and the freedom to roam at will, if only to avoid the heavy traffic between home and the University. Not to the point of giving up her magic, of course.
Tonight – it was difficult to think otherwise, despite the time being a little past three in the afternoon – the roads were deserted. More accurately, they were abandoned. Ponies were reputedly a fractious lot, prone to terrified flight at the sight of a misplaced cloud, if some of Star's more exotic acquaintances were to be believed, but she had not seen them so live up to the stereotype as now. Debris littered the streets between abandoned and overturned carts and wagons. Clothes, tables, hats, expensive baggage, all had been cast aside as the ponies fled the unnatural darkness. It was as if a swirling tempest had stormed along the streets, carrying all before it.
So short was the journey that they had reached the palace before Star had even finished mixing a sorely-needed drink. She glanced at Lucent's cool disapproval, shrugged and downed the entire thing in two swallows as they passed beneath the wide palace gates. The guards hurried to close the sturdy oak and steel doors behind the coach, something Star had never seen before.
Another coach stood in the courtyard, its open door emblazoned with a familiar, heart-shaped crest. The mark's owner stood a short distance beyond, conferring with an old stallion who almost cowered behind a stuffy tunic and an oversized mustache. Now and then her wings would lift and ruffle, their feathers crackling with magical tension.
At a particularly harsh exchange, the servant – Star supposed he was Celestia's majordomo – bowed his head and retreated into the castle keep. Star couldn't help but wonder when Cadance had become so forceful. About anything. She sauntered across the yard, trailing Lucent and Crincile behind her, and put on her best grin when Cadance looked up and saw her.
"Star!" Cadance hooves rattled on the cobblestones and she turned and pulled Star into an unexpected hug. "Did you bring– Lucent, oh thank Celestia you're here!"
"He brought us, really," Star muttered, dropping the smile again. It was hurting her cheeks. "Speaking of her plumpness, what's going on?"
Cadance's hooves slide from Star's shoulders. Normally she would have chided Star, or at least frowned at her, but there was nothing. The young Princess's wings dropped by her sides, trailing on the cobbles.
"Nopony knows where she is," she murmured. When she looked up, it was to fix Lucent with an unsteady gaze. "They're talking about putting me on the throne, as if I could raise the sun! What do I know about ruling a whole country?"
"As I understand things," said Lucent, drawing to Star's side, "it's not so different to foalsitting."
"The foals are bigger," Cadance muttered. She glanced around the courtyard before shuffling closer to Lucent. "Kibbitz tells me Prince Blueblood is in court already, talking up a storm about something. He wasn't able to find out what."
Lucent bobbed his head and snorted. "With Celestia's blessing, he's negotiating a way to restore the cohorts. Nothing else should matter until we can return the sun." He paused as a bell chimed within the towering castle. "Court is standing. We should hurry."
Cadance turned, paused and looked back at the trio. "Thank you," she said. "For being here. Aunty Celestia may have adopted me, but you're the closest I have to family in this place. It's just a pity Twilight isn't here as well."
"That is a point," Crincile replied as they made their way into the keep. "Where has that girl got to?"
"She's staying in a town called Ponyville, out in the provinces." Cadance's ears briefly rolled back against her head. "Aunty intends– intended to hold the Summer Sun celebration there this year. She sent Twilight as harbinger."
"Surely an appropriate use of her talents," Star muttered.
"She's an excellent organiser," Cadance countered. "I'm sure her social skills could use the exercise as well."
"I suppose, out there, she's well away from whatever this insanity is," Star said as they reached the closed doors of the Celestial Court; the corridor she was accustomed to using stretched away in the other direction. "And I see we've taken a shortcut."
"Desperate times." Cadance trotted toward the doors before angling to one side to confer with the guard, who listened as she spoke and replied with a single, firm nod and a salute.
At the guard's signal the doors opened on silent hinges, releasing a wave of indignant mutterings from within the court chamber. The usually ebullient crowd within was much reduced so far as Star could see, but all shared the same taut expression and moved in the same nervous dance, seeking assurance where none could be found. Uncertainty tugged at their ears and heads, as if they were puppets and their master was having a seizure behind the scenes.
Cadance stepped forward, with Star and the others trailing in her wake. She ignored the knots of nobility that tried to draw her into their orbit with fervent, whispered pleas and promises; her eyes were set on the far end of the hall and the dais of the throne, where Blueblood stood to one side. Lurked, more accurately, at least in Star's opinion.
At the foot of the dais her son waited, decked out in dress reds and wearing the darkest expression she had ever seen. She pulled away from Lucent's side and toward Shining Armor, who acknowledged her with a curt nod and nothing more. Not even Cadance seemed to draw his attention. She glanced out at the crowd and then leaned toward him.
"I don't suppose you have any idea what's going on?"
"Even if I did, I couldn't tell you," Shining whispered without looking toward her. "I've already lost one Princess. This isn't the best time for a catch-up."
"What, not even a hello kiss for your dear old mother?"
"Definitely not the best time, mom." Shining leaned a fraction toward Star and sniffed quietly. "And I'm pretty sure having you anywhere near my face would count as drinking on duty."
"I only had the one!"
"Bottle," Shining shot back. He cleared his throat and looked away. "We'll speak later."
He marched off to the doors, presumably to order more of his guards around. With nothing else to do Star sat down and looked out at the crowd, who were doing their level best to ignore her, then at Blueblood, who was in a three-way conference with Lucent and Cadance. Crincile hovered delicately to one side, her shoulder pressed against Lucent's flank, whilst her eyes bored burning holes into Blueblood's temple.
Whatever they were discussing had Cadance shaking her head and Lucent tensing his shoulders and neck as if to bite the oblivious Prince. The conversation ended before that could happen, with Blueblood raising his nose and closing his eyes as he turned from the trio to once again stand beside the throne. Lucent twitched his lip a moment before stepping down the dais to Star's side.
Cadance and Crincile followed shortly after.
"He's intending to lay claim to the throne," Cadance said, without preamble. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, shaking her head.
"He can do that?"
Star looked at Lucent for her answer, but it was Crincile who replied. "It is possible. House Platinum ceded dominion over the Unicorn Kingdoms to Celestia by treaty, in return for the Duchy of Canterlot. If Celestia is gone, he could argue that there is no clear line of succession."
"But I'm right here," Cadance said, twitching her wings. "He's either blind or–"
"Ambitious," Lucent cut in. "But he's agreed to delay his claim until we can return the sun. Until then..." he looked at Cadance, then up at the throne. "It's your rightful place, my dear. Take it while you have the chance."
Cadance swallowed and nodded, turning to face the throne. The room fell silent as she ascended the dais; when she glanced at Blueblood, he snorted and turned his head away.
The murmur of voices resumed as Cadance seated herself on the throne. She looked at Lucent, then at Star with a shy smile, and raised her hoof to address the crowd.
And then the sun returned in all its blinding glory.
"Well I suppose that solves that," said Star, once the yelling had died down. She looked around the little group, ignoring Blueblood's dour grimace, and grinned. "I don't know about any of you, but I could use a drink."
* * *
The fact that the Palace contained not one, but two, fully stocked bars with table service should not have come as a surprise to Star. In truth, if she considered the matter a moment, it made a lot of sense to give the palace staff some place to drown their sorrows at some remove from the prying eyes of the public. At the same time, it was difficult to picture the Princess wandering into a bar of any sort and ordering a pint. Or even a glass of white wine.
A mystery, Star decided, is what they were. At least this mystery had a nice patio overlooking the palace grounds. She raised her drink, a rather potent Oxenshire stout (brewed by cows, it claimed), in a general salute to the world and took a healthy swig.
"I should do this more often," she said, setting the glass down. She looked across the table to Lucent and Shining Armor, both of whom nursed their own drinks. Lucent sighed and sipped at his; Shining only stared off into the distance. Of Cadance and Crincile there was no sign.
"You would need an invitation, dear." Lucent set his drink aside and let out another heartfelt sigh. "This has certainly been quite an exciting day," he said, turning his face to the setting sun. "I was quite ready for the world to end. Did you see what happened to the moon?"
"You mean apart from it flying around like a demented pegasus and blocking out the sun?" Star looked across at the palace and shook her head. "Seemed entirely normal to me."
Lucent shook his head. "The Mare was gone. She's still gone now."
"A bunch of craters can't just disappear," said Star. She turned to the east, where the fat full face of the moon rested just above the horizon, blank as the mind of a first-day freshman, and pale as his gums. "Oh. Well. I certainly am glad I didn't pick this week to quit drinking."
"It certainly ranks among the stranger things I've seen," Lucent concluded. He knocked back the rest of his drink and set it aside. Then his ears twitched forward. He set up and peered out at a raised plaza some distance away. "Ah, the Princess has returned to us at last. Looks like she's brought a guest as well."
"Probably one of her long lost students, back from whatever corner of Tartarus Celestia lost her in," Star said, turning her attention to the crowds below. Bureaucrats, in the main, or palace guard on patrol. A few tourists too foolhardy to be scared off by the mere end of the world. "Perhaps now she'll let Twilight live a normal life instead of locking her away in that tower."
"You're assuming Twilight isn't locked in that tower by choice," Lucent said.
"Given the alternatives," Star replied, "I wouldn't blame her. There's a reason Celestia's students all have memorials in the palace gardens, and it's not because they died of old age."
"I should attend to the Princess," Shining said. He put his drink down and made to stand. Then he paused, which caught Star's attention. She saw his eyes narrow as he stared at the chariot, before slowly seating himself.
"That isn't possible," he murmured, frowning. "Twilight, you mad genius."
Star's eyebrows crawled up her head. She looked across at the chariot and Princess Celestia, who was speaking to a gathered crowd while another pony lurked close to her legs. A foal? No. The perspective was throwing her off. Yet whatever the conversation was, it was clear from Celestia's bright, broad smile and the constant touch of her wing to the newcomer's side that she was inordinately happy about her current circumstances.
"What is it this time?" Lucent's normal baritone was deeper than usual, his poor attempt at a whisper.
"Remember she had that whole crazy theory about that foals' book she found?"
"That Nightmare Moon was a historical figure? I assumed she'd grown past that."
Star tuned the conversation out as she peered across the intervening space. Her eyesight wasn't the best these days, but she could just about make out the younger pony's mark, a crescent moon, and the broad, powerful wings on her back. For a moment she pondered how available the mare might be, until her gaze came to rest on the newcomer's face, and the horn protruding from her forehead.
"Lucent, I need another drink." She sat back and rubbed her eyes."Because I am not remotely drunk enough to be seeing another bloody alicorn."
"One of those alicorns is my fiancée," said Shining, before downing his drink in a single, long swallow. "Another princess. Twilight will go insane when she hears about this."
"And to think she missed it all," said Lucent.
Star tapped her hooves on the table, before waving to catch the attention of a passing waiter. She shook her head. "I don't know, Luci. I think she might be more involved in this than we think."
"What makes you say that?"
"Call it a hunch," Star replied.
"If you're going to be like that..." Lucent drained the last of his drink and stood. "I think I shall find Crincile and return to the house. The others will be worried." He nuzzled at Star's cheek. "Don't be all night."
Despite herself, Star couldn't help but smile at the touch. She sent Lucent away with a kiss and sat back to watch the plaza.
The Princess and her companion were alone now, their heads held close together in quiet conversation. Here and there the younger mare seemed to lose her focus, staring around the palace as if she had never seen its like in her life, but sooner or later her gaze came back to Celestia. Star couldn't hear what they were saying for obvious reasons, but years spent spying on recalcitrant students across raucous lecture halls and union bars had taught her how to read lips well enough, and one name was on the both of theirs, over and over and over again.
