The Summer Sun Celebration fast approached, and, as anticipated, Twilight was unable to supervise the time that Fluttershy would have liked to spend with Sweetie Belle. With her own work to do, preparing the bird choir, helping her other friends with their tasks, and taking care of the usual chores, Fluttershy doubted she'd have had the time herself anyway, but she dearly missed visiting the library to read and talk with Sweetie as often as they'd done over the past week. Fortunately, today, they had the better part of that afternoon together—time that each had carefully planned to report and talk with Twilight.

During their precious time together, Fluttershy apologized to Sweetie that they wouldn't be able to see each other much and felt guilty that, despite her private resolution to help the filly endure the difficulties of the restrictions that Twilight had set for their relationship, she couldn’t comfort her as much as she’d have liked.

The pegasus herself pined for the filly, but, thought Fluttershy, at least Sweetie was safe from her. As the small unicorn rested next to her now in their familiar spot at the library, her heart ached to have her to herself. That Sweetie confessed to trust Fluttershy, even in spite of her demons, and wanted the same intimacy she did had only made the longing intensify. Fluttershy took comfort from the fact that her own absence from Sweetie’s life while she was busy meant the risk of harm was mitigated despite how much the filly seemed to suffer at their separation.

Sweetie had been much less occupied than Fluttershy, and, despite a little celebration she’d shared with the Crusaders, she’d felt lonelier than at other intervals between seeing Fluttershy. “Scootaloo and Apple Bloom threw me a surprise party.” Sweetie broke a brief silence between them rather abruptly. Anxiety mixed subtly with the filly’s happy tone and shown behind her smile. Though she'd just forgiven the pegasus (and their royal friend) for being busy, and she was happy to be near Fluttershy and share news of her friends, Sweetie felt desperate to be close to the pegasus again, to have physical confirmation, though she knew it mentally, that what had happened during their date still actually mattered.

It had only been two days since they’d seen each other, but Sweetie felt like their whole first date had come and gone more like a dream than a real life event. She needed to know it had meant as much to her love, the pony she wanted forever, as it had meant to her.

Fluttershy didn’t quite understand it, but she picked up on Sweetie Belle’s need for comfort and wished she could give it to the foal. Intuition spoke clearly to her that the filly wanted to be held, and she ached to do so (as she always did if she ever thought about it). With the library as busy as it was, the best she could do was offer a concerned smile and attempt to dwell on the positive.

“That’s wonderful Sweethea- rmm ... Sweetie!” Returning again to hushed voices and discreet wording after the relative privacy of their date brought with it added frustration.

Before Fluttershy could ask what the party had been for, the filly nodded, eager to continue. “Apple Bloom did the decorations, and Scootaloo did the refreshments. It actually turned out really nice,” Sweetie reported as though it should be a surprise. “Maybe we’ll have to try being party planners ... um ... if you think Pinkie wouldn’t mind, of course.”

Fluttershy shook her head. “I don’t think she would. She’d probably enjoy having more party ponies around, but—sorry—why exactly did they throw you a surprise party?”

“Oh!” Sweetie realized she’d gotten ahead of herself. “Well, I met with the Crusaders and told them about our ... time together the other day,” Sweetie’s voice was a whisper, “and, since they weren’t really able to be there beforehoof, like gal-pals would be normally, they wanted to make it up to me.”

“Oh! I see.” Fluttershy listened intently, waiting for her to continue. Sweetie seemed pleased to have her full attention, almost like she had at the picnic. She relaxed slightly, though her natural exuberance persisted in the brightness of her smile.

“Mhmm! I kept the party hat and told Rarity it was to celebrate the end of school.” The little filly sighed. “I wish we didn’t have to wait so long until our next ... um ... activity together.”

Fluttershy smiled sympathetically. “I know. ... Me too.” Fluttershy paused. “What have you been up to in the meantime? Or what do you think you’ll do while we’re ... apart?”

“Well,” Sweetie thought for a moment, “Rarity has been letting me take care of some of the house chores while she gets her orders and the decorations ready for the Summer Sun Celebration, and, of course, there’s always crusading.”

A thought occurred to the pegasus. “I’ve been meaning to lend Rarity a hoof with the decorations,” Fluttershy contemplated. “Maybe I could meet you both and ...” Fluttershy thought carefully about whether it would be a good idea for the three to mix company. “I guess I might be able to take turns helping each of you if—” she thought again “—if Twilight thinks it would be alright. What do you think?”

Sweetie looked ecstatic for a split second before catching up with what Fluttershy had been thinking. Her sister’s presence would certainly affect things. “It sounds a little scary with Rarity there, but I still really want to see you.”

“I know how you feel. Maybe we’d better wait—”

“No! Um, I mean,” Sweetie lowered her voice back down to the usual half-whisper, “it would be worth it—totally worth it,” Sweetie amended, “to see you again, even just a little between helping Rarity.” Fluttershy didn’t have to hear what she’d sensed so intensely from the filly’s manner, eyes, and her tone to know it, but the filly spoke it regardless. “I’ve missed you.” Her voice trembled, insecure, pleading.

“I ...” Fluttershy resisted the painfully strong urge to give the filly everything she wanted. Looking around quickly, she saw nopony near enough to overhear them. “I’ve missed you too, Sweetheart.” She leaned toward the small filly, speaking her pet name in a softer whisper. “Let’s ask Twilight then, but, of course, it might be too dangerous, so ... let’s also not get our hopes up too high. Okay?”

Sweetie nodded despite the knot in her stomach that made her want her to protest. The possibility of not seeing Fluttershy again soon unsettled her. “I’ll do whatever you want, Fluttershy.”

If she hadn’t been trying to comfort the foal, Fluttershy might have giggled at the innocent statement. She took a moment to extinguish her sudden fantasies before responding. She wanted Sweetie to follow her, but couldn’t afford to let her own desire get the better of her now. “It makes me really happy that you say that.” Fluttershy took a calming breath and refocused on Sweetie Belle. The little unicorn looked sadly at the floor. “You know what we should do?”

Sweetie looked up at the question. “Mm-mm. What?”

“I’m thinking that ...” the idea refined itself in Fluttershy’s mind, “we need to write to each other, but we need to do it secretly, somehow.” Fluttershy contemplated. “Would you like that?”

Sweetie Belle thought for a moment before a little smile appeared on her snout, and she nodded.

“Good. Me too.” In the light of Fluttershy’s answering smile, Sweetie’s worries started to fade. “Do you have any idea how we can write without our letters being read by anypony else?” Fluttershy asked more out of curiosity about what the filly might suggest and to distract her from her grief than for the actual need of an idea.

The two fell silent momentarily and Fluttershy watched as the foal mulled over possible solutions. “What about invisible ink that appears with some secret? Like, um ... I heard about some that shows up when you hold it up to light or over a candle.”

“Oh! I think I might remember a way to make that. I mean, I’ll have to test it, but maybe that will be possible!” Fluttershy chuckled briefly. “I used to write with secret ink all the time as a filly.”

“Really?” Sweetie’s curiosity was piqued, and her tone suddenly became suggestive. “What did you wriiite?” Sweetie drew out the last word, making her suspicions plain.

The yellow pegasus’s cheeks turned a light pink. “I, um ... well, sometimes, journal entries and ...” she couldn’t think of any reason to hide it from Sweetie, but she whispered it to be safe, “fantasies ... that I didn’t want mom and dad to see.”

Sweetie stifled a giggle. “I’d like to hear them some time,” Sweetie responded in her own equally soft whisper.

The silk in the little filly’s whisper and her suddenly half-lidded gaze sent the young pegasus mare spinning. After enjoying the ride for a moment, she shook her head. Her face slightly red now, Fluttershy swallowed. “I-I ... Uhm, sure. ... Maybe,” Fluttershy added, almost certain it wouldn’t be allowed any time soon, but tempted, regardless. She reminded herself that Twilight was depending on her to act responsibly. Sweetie needed her to be responsible as well, whether she liked it or not. The ache she’d felt so intensely last night began to resurface.

Sweetie noticed the discomfort on her fillyfriend’s features, and the grin she wore quickly faded. “Are you alright, Flutters?”

“I’ll be ...” Fluttershy was silent for a long moment. “Not exactly, no. ... I’m sorry, Sweetie.”

“What’s wrong?”

Fluttershy sighed and checked that nopony was nearby. “I’ll explain later, Sweetheart. Please don’t worry. It’s nothing too bad. ... Let’s talk some more about how we’ll write to each other, but ... not about f-fantasies, okay?”

“Oh.” The filly understood she must have made a mistake to bring it up. “Sorry, Fluttershy. I didn’t—”

“It’s not your fault, Love,” Fluttershy interrupted, her tone soft but earnest. She used the more intimate title in hopes that Sweetie might understand she truly didn’t blame her, but also because she'd been moved by the filly’s tender concern.

New to her, the name caught Sweetie Belle by surprise. Her worry vanished, and she blushed. “Okay,” Sweetie conceded.

“Thank you for being patient with me, Sweetheart.” Fluttershy smiled adoringly at the filly, and Sweetie couldn’t help but smile back.

“It’s nothing.” The filly shook her head.

Fluttershy disagreed. It mattered a great deal, but she didn’t press the matter. “About your invisible ink idea ...” Fluttershy picked up where their conversation left off.

The two discussed and refined their method of covert communication at length until they came to a solid mutual understanding, and the topic evolved into what they might write about. It shifted again to what each expected of the Summer Sun Celebration. By the time they’d talked about how they would miss Twilight while she attended in Canterlot and speculated that it should be quite a bit more relaxed than the year Nightmare Moon appeared, the hour had finally come for their meetings, and Twilight herself approached them.

“Would you mind if we spoke again first today, Fluttershy?” The purple mare courteously offered each session, in case the pair had a preference, though they never expressed any.

“Of course not, Twilight.”

Sweetie was left to bury her muzzle in a book of her own choosing, this time about flowers.

In the loft, the two friends made themselves comfortable.

“How have you been, Fluttershy?” Though she asked it almost every time they met like this, there was an extra note of concern in Twilight’s tone, her expression more tender than usual.

Feeling relief at being in the comfortable, familiar space, without the need to watch herself constantly, Fluttershy sighed. “Better. ... At least, a little, but ... not much, I’m afraid.”

Twilight nodded and waited for the pegasus to continue. It felt better, usually, to let the quiet mare go at her own pace than to prompt her. It was the mark of their bond’s strength that they each felt comfortable enough to let the silence settle between them sometimes.

Fluttershy took advantage of the peace and calm to tune herself in to what she’d been suppressing, trying to ignore, since she’d left her cottage to meet Sweetie. “If I dwell on them, the urges become overwhelming, as usual, but, with trying to be fully abstinent ... and ...” Fluttershy felt a tingling in her spine, “with the time I’ve spent with Sweetie recently, I think, it’s been harder than usual. ... At the same time, I’ve had her to fill the loneliness and ... just the thought of being together, I mean, together forever, married ... makes the harder parts of the day pass quickly.”

Twilight’s ears perked. Fluttershy’s daily trials weren’t by any means news to Twilight, but they’d only spoken about them briefly a couple of times. She took the opportunity to find out more. “What parts of your days have you found most difficult lately?”

“Well ...” Fluttershy thought back through recent trials, “it’s unavoidable, of course, but seeing animal friends pass away often gets to me, or, I should say, seeing them and their families suffer does. I feel like death itself isn’t so bad, but I wish I could do more to comfort them. The Raccoon family lost their papa this week to distemper. It’s so sad because,” her eyes watered, but she remained strong, “I couldn’t let them stay very close to him for long or they might have been infected too. In the end he barely recognized me or Mrs. Raccoon.”

She released the memory with a sigh before searching for other examples. “Sometimes, a long time friend who feels more like family will become ill, and I’ll feel anxious. I worry about losing them too. Harry’s neck hasn’t improved much despite what I can do. I think it might be arthritis. Other times it’s just small things, like making sure Angel Bunny is happy, or keeping to a tight feeding schedule to help the litters grow, or tidying up the warrens and dens.

“Thinking about ... holding Sweetie or making her smile ... being happy together, even though life demands a lot ... taking the time aside to build a bond that really matters, and, also, um ... the relief that comes with sex,” she added timidly, “all give me hope that it will really be worth it.”

Twilight swallowed a little emotion. “I ... understand where you’re coming from.” The young royal couldn’t help but sympathize, but before she could dwell at all on what it might be like to have a pony to hold and be held by, Twilight Sparkle focused her thoughts again on Fluttershy. “Before your relationship with Sweetie changed, what did you do to manage during the hard times?”

“Mm, well,” Fluttershy gave a timid chuckle, this sort of question always seemed difficult to answer, despite how she trusted Twilight, “you might guess, and you’d be right, um ... I’d usually take a moment alone and ... soothe myself.” A small frown replaced the nervous grin.

Twilight had guessed, but hoped to find more. She nodded. “Is there anything else ... beside sexual release?”

Fluttershy thought briefly. “It helps when I can get away with you and the other girls ... and ... I guess, reading, but a lot of what I read, well ... you know, it’s sort of sappy romance.” She didn’t want to admit it but forced the confession anyway. “Sometimes those stories just turn into m—masturbation, but,” she added quickly, “sometimes they get me through the day with mostly sober thoughts.”

Twilight made a mental note of her friend’s discomfort. “When you feel like you need a release, what happens—that is—how do you feel if you just ... don’t?”

The thought of it made Fluttershy chill. Her answer came out weakly. “Trapped ... panicked.” She didn’t feel she had it in her to elaborate.

“By what?” Twilight pressed.

“By ... me, I guess. By my own weakness.”

A pause gave both ponies a moment to digest the thought, and a realization struck Fluttershy.

“I guess that being with Sweetie hasn’t made me any safer, but, at the same time, it’s made me stronger. It’s given me a real reason to become strong—to face myself, I mean—even when I’m very frightened about how aroused she makes me and what I might do, because I care for her and don’t want to hurt her. And, also, with little things—like when I have a hard time handling a busy schedule, and I think about how much I need something to comfort me, because I’m just no good at sticking to a schedule sometimes—I feel determined not to let it lead to ... acting like I did at my cottage, the time I asked Sweetie t-to ... cross that boundary, you know, that turned out to be a big mistake.”

Fluttershy gave another sigh. “It’s—instead of panic now—with the love I have from Sweetie to stop me from following my more primal urges, I just feel a really intense ... sorrow, I think, instead ... still for the same reason I felt panicked before. ... The trapped part, I guess, feels the same, except that I can accept being trapped by anything, if it’s for her sake. At least, I hope I’m that brave.”

Twilight felt a light blush at the sentiment. “That’s really ... noble, Fluttershy.” Her tone was almost even, unsurprised by the friend she already knew to be so magnanimous, but still impressed.

Fluttershy blushed in turn. “I ... guess so.” Fluttershy felt truly grateful to have a friend who believed in her. “I owe a lot to you, though, Twilight.” It felt like the right time to bring up the inevitable topic, Fluttershy thought. “If you hadn’t been there for me last night, I—” she suppressed a shudder “—I don’t know what would have happened.”

Twilight responded with the same sympathetic smile she’d given Fluttershy at the beginning of their conversation. “It was really my pleasure, like I told you.”

Fluttershy smiled and, remembering how much she knew Twilight cared, her eyes glistened. “Yes. I know. ... It’s just more reason for me to be grateful.”

Twilight’s kind smile grew, and it shown brightly in her eyes. “You don’t mind talking about it now, I suppose?”

Fluttershy shook her head.

“Thank you, again, for visiting last night, and, um ... staying with me when you needed help.” Twilight was genuinely glad, but a little anxious that agreeing to share her bed might have crossed a line. It had felt like the motherly thing to do at the time.

“Again, it’s you I should thank, but we’ve been over that already.” Fluttershy couldn’t help but smile briefly, but became serious again just as quickly. “It meant a lot to me, what you said about purpose last night. I hadn’t thought that you might feel the same way about your pony friends ... about me—or even stronger,” she admitted “—as I do about my animal friends. I think,” Fluttershy paused to contemplate how she’d felt last night, “I have a hard time knowing I’m loved and cared about, even though I know it ... you know?”

Twilight's smile was understanding. “I think I understand, yes, and, I think you know it already, but I really meant what I said last night. I’m glad to hear you’ve been focusing on your self-awareness like we talked about. That’s a great insight,” Twilight encouraged. “What does feeling ... unloved lead to? How do you deal with it?”

There was silence as Fluttershy pondered. “I think, well, ... it makes me want to escape from what I’m feeling, and then ... if I don’t have some other distraction, the only thing strong enough to let me forget about ... about feeling worthless or dumb is usually something to do with sex.”

Twilight felt pangs at the sorrow on Fluttershy’s features. “Is ... that what happened last night? I mean ... could you tell me what happened?”

Fluttershy breathed deep, preparing herself to relive what had triggered her. She nodded. “The date with Sweetie,” she started then paused, “was wonderful.” Her tone contrasted somberly with the statement, and she looked down momentarily. “First,” the pegasus interrupted herself, “I hope you’ll accept my apology.” Fluttershy looked anxiously up at Twilight. The princess’s expression was deliberately neutral but for the slightest hint of how a parent might look at a child who confessed to having spilled juice on the living room carpet. As soon as Fluttershy mentioned the picnic, Twilight knew exactly what was coming.

“We got so carried away, and I ... I took advantage of your kindness as our chaperone. I should have stopped our kissing altogether after your first or second or third warning, but I just kept on going. I—It’s no excuse, but I was just so caught up.” Fluttershy let herself drift back to the memory with a far off look in her eyes. “It was just so ... wonderful!” This time it sounded like she meant it. “I mean, um,” the mare snapped herself back, “I said that already. Sorry. ... And I really am sorry I wasn’t more responsible yesterday at the picnic.”

Twilight smiled sardonically at first, but quickly became understanding as she forgave Fluttershy. “There’s no need to apologize for repeating yourself. And, for what happened at the picnic, I forgive you,” Twilight stated frankly and sincerely and said no more, but waited silently, still smiling, for Fluttershy to continue.

Fluttershy felt her burden ease slightly, knowing that Twilight wasn’t angry. “Thank you, Twilight. Well, during the picnic, while we were kissing, I got really ... worked up.” Fluttershy blushed. “It—the urge—was so intense, that I wanted to invite Sweetie to meet me last night. I ...” She looked remorsefully up at Twilight. “I started to seriously plan it out, until I finally realized how deep I was getting into—what would happen if I followed through, I mean.”

Fluttershy sighed, a bit relieved just to be past the confession. “I decided, shortly after the date finished, that I’d pack a saddlebag, just in case I had trouble later, and I did. I just ...” Fluttershy felt tired at the mere memory of the strain the temptation had placed on her. “I felt bad about wanting to break the rules, about how I could have hurt both you and Sweetie ... and myself, but ...” Fluttershy paused, waiting for the ache to pass. “I felt lonely, and ...” she hesitated.

Fluttershy didn’t finish.

She thought about her growing impatience with Twilight’s research schedule. It was selfish enough, she thought, to have put the purple pony through so much trouble already and to continue to do so under present circumstances. Even if she could bring herself to ignore how selfish it would be to ask Twilight to research faster, despite how desperately Fluttershy wanted what Twilight was working so hard to give her, she remembered what she’d felt near the end of the picnic. In the end, all of it was wrong, a twisted manipulation of her best friend and the foal she was supposed to ‘love.’ Yet she let it continue.

“And?” Twilight prompted.

“... f-frustrated, I guess.” Fluttershy avoided eye contact.

“Frustrated, why?” Twilight pried, genuinely curious.

“I guess ... with myself,” she dodged, not wanting to admit that it extended beyond just herself, to the long wait ahead, to not having an answer already.

Twilight waited for more, but more didn’t come.

“Do you ... feel comfortable elaborating?” Twilight asked, patiently.

To tell the whole truth, to discuss, not only her frustration, but her growing disbelief that the relationship with Sweetie Belle could ever really be healthy, Fluttershy feared, would put what little hope there was of ending up with the beloved foal in jeopardy. Though it left Fluttershy deeply unsettled to admit it to herself, she wanted Sweetie enough to take her, still, even if it was wrong. Her conscience and Twilight’s friendship had kept her from doing so thus far, but, as the former grew dim, Fluttershy relied ever more on her desire not to lose Twilight’s trust in order to keep from acting on her lust.

Despite how important their friendship was to Fluttershy, if her pattern of selfishness continued, she guessed she knew what would happen, and, as the realization struck her, she fought with herself for the hundred-thousandth time.

...

A minute passed slowly.

“Twilight,” finally, Fluttershy responded.

The purple pony’s name carried strain and fatigue. Twilight’s concern intensified. “What is it, Fluttershy?”

“... This might sound like—” she paused mid-way just to breath, the unrelenting battle within still pulling at her painfully “—an odd question to ask now, but ... why are you helping me?”

Twilight paused to contemplate, not at what her answer should be, but why Fluttershy might ask. “Well,” she answered, “I guess ... foremost, because I care about you,” Twilight thought Fluttershy knew this much already, “but also ... I feel like it’s the right thing to do.”

Fluttershy’s brow furrowed suddenly at her own hooves, moisture gathering at the corners of her eyes, a tacit mixture of anger and regret. As Fluttershy looked up, Twilight was surprised to see the expression directed at her. Fluttershy’s breath caught subtly, hating to be seen this way, but her expression didn’t change.

“Really?” she asked, almost scoffed, her tone uncharacteristically sharp.

Twilight swallowed part of the sudden intimidation she felt at the pegasus’s gaze.

“Y—yes. Really. ... W—”

“Because, it doesn’t seem that way, Twilight.” Fluttershy’s breathing was shallow, uneven. “If this were the right thing to do,” she paused to breathe, tried and failed to swallowed back tears, “would we be hiding what’s been happening between me and Sweetie Belle? If this were the right thing to do,” she clenched her eyes and teeth for a moment before looking back again with torment across her face, “wouldn’t the answer to me and Sweetie Belle be more obvious? If I were a good pony,” tears ran in streams now from Fluttershy’s eyes, “... then wouldn’t I—be able to control myself?”

The pegasus covered her face and broke down into quiet sobs.

As the shock of Fluttershy's outburst wore off, Twilight’s lower lip trembled, and she wept silently with her. Setting all caution aside, Twilight’s horn lit, and, with a pop and a flash, the lavender pony instantly pressed herself firmly but gently against Fluttershy, wrapping her forelegs around the yellow pony in a side embrace.

Fluttershy shrank and trembled. She coiled and pushed against Twilight, trying to get her to leave her alone, but, as she did, Twilight’s grip only tightened. Again, harder, Fluttershy pushed and struggled, but the little alicorn wouldn’t yield. Fluttershy shook, readying to fight with everything she had. How dare she? thought the pegasus. How dare she even pretend to love a monster like me?! What right had a pony as perfect as Twilight to deny her self-loathing?!

At the last moment, rather than fight, Fluttershy relented, and, with all the intensity she’d have used to escape, instead, Fluttershy bawled like a filly, angry and sorry and tired and full of pain. Twilight ground her teeth to keep from sobbing aloud, and, holding her still, she rested her head against the wailing pony’s shoulder.

The land of Equestria felt sympathy for all of its inhabitants, big and small, old and young, good and evil. Deep in the heart of the land, a magical barrier held tenuously. Long had it protected its core against a plundering threat, persisting past its limit on the hopes and good feelings of the nearby inhabitants. Most especially, since they’d become connected, the hearts of the bearers of the Elements of Harmony had brought with them the strengths and weaknesses inherent in them to the magic of the land and of the barrier itself.

As despair struck the heart of one, the ancient barrier faded, flickered, and vanished. Though hope might light again, the barrier would not. Black choking vines sprouted around the Tree of Harmony.

Fluttershy hiccuped. It had been a good long cry—one she’d needed. Finally, she lifted a hoof to Twilight’s side, and, meekly, she hugged the lavender mare in return. More tears came, but the worst had passed. Slowly, both ponies relaxed, their breathing gradually coming back to normal.

Fluttershy let go, and, finally, so did Twilight. The two looked at each other, strands of mane out of place, cheeks stained, eyes red, and each had the same thought. In unison, they spoke it. “I must look awful.” They laughed, each made aware by the other’s gaze and comment that they, in fact, did look kind of awful. Tissues and some light brushing later, Twilight and Fluttershy sat side by side still, in Twilight’s shielded loft.

“I’m really ... really sorry, Fluttershy,” Twilight began with a frown. “I knew what was happening at the picnic didn’t feel right after the two of you started to ... cross certain boundaries, and, while you were responsible as well, I was put into a position of trust to protect you both from more than just, well ... going all the way before you were both ready. I wasn’t sensitive to how being intimate in other ways could affect you, nor, I’m afraid, to how it might have led Sweetie to believe that toying with arousal is alright.”

Fluttershy’s lower lip jutted subtly at her friend’s confession. It was her fault for putting Twilight in such a difficult position in the first place and for leading Sweetie Belle to that arousal. Before she could interject, Twilight continued.

“I was going to take today as an opportunity to talk with each of you about this.” Twilight let out a short sigh, disappointed that, for all of her worry, she hadn’t intervened during the date. As an afterthought, she looked outside at the shadows to see it was later than she’d planned already. She breathed deeply once and relaxed. It couldn’t be helped. What had happened had happened.

“Twi—” Fluttershy started.

“But now I see,” Twilight interrupted, determined to make a full apology, “that I should have taken action much sooner and saved us all the heartache.” Twilight looked at the friend she’d failed to protect, with regret. “Can you forgive me?”

“Twilight, I never blamed you. Well,” Fluttershy caught herself. “... I guess I ... did, a little, honestly, but,” she added quickly, “I always knew it wasn’t right for me to expect you to have to watch over me so closely. I’m sorry again, Twilight, and I don’t blame you now, not even a little.”

Fluttershy nuzzled Twilight soothingly, and Twilight responded in kind.

“I guess, on the bright side,” Twilight said smiling, “we know better now.”

Fluttershy pulled away and sighed forlornly. “Yes,” about the kissing, but ..., thought Fluttershy, “but, Twilight, how do you know that letting me and Sweetie see each other at all is the right thing, while you’re still looking for a definite answer?” Fluttershy asked earnestly.

Twilight wore a look of confusion at the question.

“Don’t you, um ... want quality time with Sweetie?”

“Of course! I mean, I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but ... I’m just ... really afraid, Twilight.”

Twilight felt she could relate. “Why exactly are you afraid?” she asked.

“Because, what if ... what if you don’t find an answer, or what if the answer is that we have to wait years longer? I believe you’re really trying your hardest, and I already feel sorry that I’ve put you through so much, but to have Sweetie Belle so near while I’m ... like this ...” Shame spread itself across the gentle pony’s features as she thought of her compulsiveness and countless selfish things she’d done. “I wouldn’t admit it in front of her, but, I’m afraid, I’ll be even more impatient than Sweetie ... to the point of wanting, even,” she cringed inwardly, “planning to hurt her—each of us.”

This use of ‘hurt’ always made Fluttershy cringe. She accepted that her compulsions would cause harm, but, she wanted to believe, it was more the stigma than the actions themselves that would be directly responsible for pain or injury. It always felt terribly wrong to equate what she thought of as lovemaking, tender and caring in her fantasies, to hurting. She had accepted the term, regardless, as acknowledgement of the very harmful social consequences of what she wanted, however unfair she often felt they were.

Twilight made a careful mental note of the yellow pony’s anxiety. “Well,” she thought aloud in response, recalling the similar discussion she’d had with Applejack, “I guess ... I mean, I really believe that, if we’re careful enough, then there’s nothing to fear, but, as far as it being right or wrong ...” Twilight bit her lip, hoping, but not sure, her answer might ease the mare’s moral burden. (Leave it to the mare who’d challenged her preconceptions to also challenge her re-conception of the issue, not that Twilight minded.) In light of the fact that Fluttershy already knew much of her research, she guessed a big-picture approach was what Fluttershy needed to help her understand. “I guess I judge for myself based on how it affects the strength and quality of our friendships, like ... how its influence helps us get along or not, the amount of mutual respect and altruism it inspires among us, how well-connected we feel because of it ... and so on,” she stopped herself. “Does that answer your question?”

Fluttershy mulled over what Twilight had said.

“I think ... you’re saying, if it’s right, then it will bring us all closer together in the end?”

“Precisely!” Twilight beamed.

Fluttershy considered the standard. “That’s really ... beautiful, Twilight.” Fluttershy was sincere, “but, where exactly does that leave us with ... what’s happening?”

“Well, do you feel like the bond you and Sweetie and I share has grown any stronger?”

Fluttershy needed no time to think about it. “Undoubtedly,” Fluttershy stated, almost emphatically.

“But you’re still not certain whether your relationship with her is ... good. Is that right?”

Fluttershy looked down at her hooves. “Maybe ... maybe it is good ... or would be, but,” Fluttershy felt the searing hot truth behind her thought before she spoke it, “I'm ... a sick pony.” Wrong. Bad. Poison. “Like I said, I'm afraid of hurting her—us. That would drive us apart ... and then there's Rarity and Sweetie's parents. Keeping a secret like this, even though I'm terrified of telling them, it feels like ... it is betrayal. Isn't it?” Fluttershy wished desperately for reassurance, but she dared not hope.

Twilight was silent. Several moments passed as she thought about just how much more careful they'd need to be and why she'd chosen not to encourage Fluttershy to tell Rarity. She thought of how it might impact Sweetie Belle, her family, Fluttershy, her own royal status, each of their friends.

“I—” Twilight began, then stopped. “If it is betrayal, then what would you propose we do?”

Fluttershy took a moment to square herself against the fears she knew she had to face. Breathing deeply first, she answered. “I might need to be ready and find a way to call off the relationship, doing as little harm to Sweetie as I can, but, at the very least, either way, I'd need, somehow, to ... tell Rarity.”

Twilight suddenly felt afraid, but nodded. If it really were disloyal to have kept the secret, then she too was to blame, promise to Fluttershy or no promise. “And what if it's not a betrayal to keep your relationship secret?”

“Well, then ... I guess nothing would need to change, but, Twilight,” Fluttershy held the winged unicorn's concerned gaze with her own, “is it a risk worth taking?”

“Maybe not,” Twilight dodged, “but would telling Sweetie's family, if she wants it kept secret, be loyal to her?”

Did Fluttershy think of Sweetie Belle as her own pony or did she think of her as belonging to her family? This, thought Twilight, was crucial.

“I—” the question caught Fluttershy by surprise. “I guess it wouldn't be loyal, no, unless ... well, maybe she ... I mean, maybe it's the right thing for her, and she might not know it,” to be protected from me, to have ponies who care about her at least be aware, she thought, ponies who, by all rights, should be closer to her than Twilight and Applejack, she later amended.

Twilight took a moment to breathe, realizing she'd been holding her breath. “Even so,” Twilight paused and lowered her tone to stress the seriousness of her question, “do you feel we have the right to decide that for her?”

Fluttershy appeared frozen for a minute except for her eyes which shifted about, straining in search of the right answer. While the pegasus didn't understand everything that Twilight's research had revealed so far, one thing she had understood clearly, even before her confession of love to Sweetie, was the question of a foal's ability to choose.

If the answer to Twilight's question were yes, then Sweetie had no right to privacy, and, by extension, without permission from those responsible for her, she couldn't be eligible for any aspect of romance that required privacy. Somepony, especially Twilight, as a crowned princess, might be able to challenge the authority of Sweetie's family. But, thought Fluttershy, unless Equestrian law or Twilight would oppress them and all other families, the one who challenged their authority might only rightly do so if the foal's parents (and other adult family members) were unfit. There were very few less-heartbreaking alternatives. In any case, taking away the parents' rights to protect their foal behind their backs would be difficult to see as anything but completely dishonorable.

If, on the other hoof, the answer were no, then where, for pony's sake, did foalhood end and marehood begin, for Sweetie or for any young pony? Surely, Pound and Pumpkin had no way of knowing right from wrong or what might lead them to happiness versus heartache down the road. This was precisely why the law was what it was, and, whether or not it erred on the side of being too cautious, it was good to be in place, thought Fluttershy.

If Sweetie wished for sexual intimacy with an adult, the only ethical way it could be granted, it seemed, was through another adult, not including Fluttershy, or, with Twilight's royal protection against most legal consequences, by claiming that Sweetie really was capable of choosing sex with adequate foresight, despite her age. It didn't help the matter in the slightest that adult ponies, even ones in their sunset years, were seen making errors in judgment about sexual partners all the time. Were the law to prevent every mistake, nopony would be free to live and grow as they choose. Fluttershy and Twilight both wished they knew the answer to the critical question: When would she be ready, or was she already there?

Fluttershy swallowed.

“In Sweetie's case ...” Fluttershy decided finally, “no. I don't think we, or at least we shouldn't have the right.” She hoped to her higher power she wasn't wrong.

Twilight let out a relieved sigh.

“So, can I assume we're on the same page now?”

Fluttershy slowly began to nod. “Yes. I think so, ... that is,” she added, “I mean, if we both agree that encouraging her to tell Rarity, and maybe her parents, is the right thing to do, and, of course, supporting her as she makes that decision on her own.”

Ironically, Fluttershy seemed the braver of the two. Twilight nodded, fretting what might soon happen. A moment of silence passed as the gravity of it settled between them. The lavender princess looked from where she'd been staring, across the room to Fluttershy with worry. “Are you sure you're ready?” Though the question was aimed at Fluttershy, Twilight felt it strike her.

“I have to be.” The pegasus's eyes were soft and kind as usual, but they held their focus steady. The tone of her voice was perfectly even, peaceful yet determined. “I am ready, finally.”

She looked closely at Twilight who, all of a sudden, seemed to have shrunk. “Twilight? Are you alright?”

Twilight looked down and back once uncertainly. “I ... I think so, yes, or I will be. ... Fluttershy,” she looked unsteadily at the pegasus.

“Yes?” Fluttershy leaned into her friend, offering her support and comfort, at which Twilight smiled meekly and rested against the soft pegasus.

“Thanks for being so brave,” Twilight said, genuinely grateful.

A moment passed.

“The feeling is mutual,” Fluttershy responded.

The two sighed in unison then, after a moment, chuckled lightly at themselves.

As she realized the time, Fluttershy thought to mention Sweetie and her hopes to see each other at the boutique while she helped Rarity, as well as the concern she felt about whether Rarity might suspect anything.

“I can see why you might be worried about that, and, with the possibility that Rarity may soon be aware of what's happening, Sweetie—you both, I guess—might find it difficult to keep your nerve.” Twilight contemplated for a moment. “Thank you for telling me. I think this will be something the three of us should discuss together. We're not short on time yet, but, since it's later than I expected, let's not worry about it right now. I think I'll meet with her first, and then we'll discuss it a bit later,” Twilight decided.

“Alright.” Fluttershy smiled warmly at her trusted friend and leader.

The two shared a hug before descending from the library's loft together.

Author's Note

Last revised 3 February 2015
- for style and voice

Original Note:
More of what happened in the last chapter, but without ~~as much~~ making out. Meh... Though I did cry at parts. Feels like the story is going slowly, but these are important things to address.

Oh yeah.. I'm (still) trying out the proper formatting for ellipses (not counting this note ), so that's new sort of, at least!