For the first time in months, lying on the therapist's couch, Twilight Sparkle felt some semblance of calm.
Oh, but it was just a semblance. She was nervous. But she was used to nervous. She wouldn't be here, if she weren't. True, the idea of talking with a stranger--talking openly, that is--was a prima facie cause for nervousness. But the therapist did her best to put Twilight at ease when she instructed Twilight to lie on the couch. Well, "instructed" is a harsh word, she thought. The clock on the wall ticked, but softly, as if it didn't want to impose.
The couch had no arms, but it was wide enough that Twilight wasn't afraid of falling off. It was suede; comfortable, but not decadent; elegant and warm. Though Twilight had gotten used to folding her wings when she went to bed, she had elected to just lay prone. Ultimately, that was more comfortable.
Near the couch, there was a chair, not quite as plush as the couch, but seemingly comfortable enough. There was also a table; on that desk, there was a notepad.
"Shall we begin?" The therapist, an earth pony named Soul Searcher, was young but matronly. Her cutie mark was a smoldering cigar; its smoke formed a pattern that Twilight couldn't quite make out. Was it a butterfly? It didn't matter right now.
"Yes. If I may be so bold, Miss Searcher," said Twilight, "then I request that you not call me 'Princess.'"
"Oh, I wasn't planning to." Soul Searcher smiled warmly as she moved the chair and table. "You could say that, here, it's royal tradition to ignore royal tradition. It makes things a lot easier, I think. Besides, everything you tell me is confidential. Oh, and please, just Soul will do."
The therapist sat down. "Now, could you tell me what was it that went wrong?"
That. Dread gripped Twilight as she remembered it. "Princess Luna ordered me to have fun, and I couldn't," she blurted.
"I'm sorry, but I don't quite understand." Soul Searcher looked at Twilight, attentive and alert. "How do you get ordered to have fun? And why?"
Twilight took a deep breath. All right. Just tell her. It's not like she can help you if you don't. "I think it's best to start at the beginning.
"Things were pretty good for the first few months after the coronation, and I even got to stay in Ponyville for a while. Eventually, I had to move to Canterlot, of course, but that wasn't so much of a problem; after all, I grew up there.
"I went to a few highbrow parties here, observed a few governmental functions there, and was generally shown the ropes. Everypony did their best to get me acquainted with a princess's lifestyle and duties. It seemed demanding, but not overly so, and I was enthusiastic to serve my people.
"Then I got actual responsibilities, and that's when it all fell apart."
Soul Searcher nodded. "When it 'fell apart,' what happened?"
"Everything wound up being really, really hard! Everypony around me kept telling me I was doing a good job, of course, but I'm sure they were just saying that because they were afraid. I'm a princess, after all. They're going to be afraid of me, because I could just tap my hooves and banish them or something."
"So, if I heard you right," Soul Searcher said, "you don't trust yourself, because you don't trust those around you?"
"Exactly!" Twilight hadn't put it that way, but that was exactly what was going on.
"If I recall, you have some close friends in Ponyville. Why not appoint them as advisers?"
Twilight shook her head. "That would be scandalous! That word's a term of art in political circles, by the way; long story short, you can't appoint your friends to important positions. It would look really bad. I could discredit the entire royalty if I hired them!
"And, besides, my friends have lives in Ponyville. I'm not going to ask them to pack up and move to Canterlot just because my current advisers are worthless!"
"Those are certainly very good reasons." Soul Searcher shifted in her seat. "So I wouldn't suggest you appoint your friends. Of course, you know the strange mind of politics better than I ever could. You know best," she said. "Now, what was that you said about Luna ordering you to have fun?"
"Oh, right." Twilight rubbed the back of her head, still hesitant to discuss the incident. She considered just saying 'didn't you read about it in the tabloids?', but that probably wouldn't help her, and Soul Searcher didn't seem like the kind of pony who'd read gossip rags.
"This is kind of an embarrassing story, and I'm going to need to work up the courage to tell it."
"Take your time! And, remember, your secret's safe with me," said Soul Searcher.
The clock subtly ticked as Twilight composed her story and herself. Soul Searcher jotted things down in her notebook--Twilight was always baffled that non-unicorns ever wrote things down, what with how inconvenient it was. Yet the therapist kept shooting expectant glances at Twilight.
Finally, Twilight steeled herself. "I'm ready, Soul."
Soul Searcher all but dropped her pad and turned to Twilight. "All right. Tell me everything."
With another deep breath, Twilight began. "Since I started taking royal duties, I've been working pretty much non-stop. It wasn't enough, but it was the most I could do.
"Princess Luna, of course, was concerned about me for that very reason. 'Twilight Sparkle, we worry for your health,' she said.
"'Thanks for your concern, Luna. But I'm fine, really,' I replied.
"'When I said "we," I was not slipping into the old ways of speech. My sister is worried, too. Even alicorns have their limits, Twilight. You ought to take a sabbatical.'
"Naturally, I refused, because there was so much to do, and no way could I take a break. None of it would get done right if I delegated it, and I couldn't just let it pile up. But the Princess wouldn't listen.
"'Then I will have to invoke the royal hierarchy and decree it,' Luna said. So she did, and I was forced to return to Ponyville for a week.
"Of course, there was a communication line open for emergencies, based on the standard dragonflame system. Naturally, the nobility abused it to bother me about land grants, but I always replied. Something dreadful might have happened had I not!
"My friends were just as concerned as Princess Luna was. Pinkie Pie--all you need to know about her is that her special talent is literally parties--Pinkie Pie threw a 'make sure Twilight doesn't die of being a princess' party. I didn't want to go, because of my duties. But, at the same time, I had to go, because I am literally the Princess of Friendship.
"So the party was a disaster. I would sit in the corner, reviewing land reallocation requests as they trickled in. One of my friends would come up, make a speech about how concerned they were for my well-being, and cajole me into some activity. I'd join in, but soon yet another one of those accursed lien transfer approval forms would hit me in the head. Either I'd run off to go over it, or I'd continue dancing or whatever and feel guilty about it.
"Rinse, lather, repeat. The party didn't cheer me up. I don't think you know this, Soul, but if a Pinkie Pie Party doesn't cheer you up, something is horribly wrong. Which is why I came to you."
Soul Searcher, of course, had been listening attentively this whole time. "So that's the story."
"More or less, yeah." Telling the story had been less stressful than Twilight had thought it would be; she'd half expected to be in tears by now. Instead, she just felt an overwhelming calm, as if she could finally rest after trying to run a race far too brutal for her.
"And has this sort of thing happened before?"
Of course! This was a pattern! "Actually, yes. A couple years ago, I went overboard and almost destroyed Ponyville with my magic, because I was afraid that I'd be late with my friendship report for the week."
"So you came here rather than let it get out of hand again." Soul Searcher smiled. "That's very good, Twilight. Now, do you need any advice on what to do now?"
"No," said Twilight. "I think I know what I need."
"Then I think we're done with this session," said Soul Searcher. "What do you think?"
"I agree."
Soul Searcher rose from her chair, and Twilight followed suit. "The royal treasury will take care of the fee," said the princess, "and I'll make sure to reward you generously for assisting the Crown.
Soul Searcher shook her head. "No need. Just pay me standard rate."
"No, I insist! You've done so much for me, Soul," said Twilight. Soul Searcher shook her head again, and Twilight dropped the subject.
"Twilight, if you ever need me, just schedule an appointment; I'll always have room in my schedule for the Princess," said Soul Searcher.
"Thank you," said Twilight. "And, Soul, if I might ask, what's with your cutie mark?"
"The smoke pattern," Soul Searcher said, "doesn't have a fixed meaning. The meaning comes from the pony that's looking. And that is my goal, believe it or not. I want my clients to learn about themselves, not about me."
"I see. Sorry for asking, then."
"Oh, no, don't be! I ask questions all day; sometimes it's good to answer them every now and then."
"One more question, then. What does the cigar mean?"
Soul Searcher winked. "Sometimes, a cigar's just a cigar. Most ponies hate the things, so I don't smoke them very often, though. The smell gets everywhere, too. But still, I do enjoy a nice cigar on occasion."
Author's Note
Written during One-Shotober.
This is not, nor is it supposed to be, an accurate depiction of psychotherapy or of any other kind of therapy. If you were considering it, don't let me turn you off. Nor should you develop unrealistic expectations from this story.
