Her brother's body was warm against her own, and she knew that here, in his embrace, was where she truly belonged.
The night was soft and still. The only light was that of her horn, dispelling the dark in fits and bursts as it flared and shimmered in her pleasure. The sparks reflected in her brother's eyes as they kindled and died, illuminating the ever-changing emotions therein one after another. She moaned, and gasped, and clutched him close. His labored breath was hot upon her neck, her face flushed and feverish as she reached up to kiss him, to hold him, to feel him, her hooves running loosely through the mane of ultramarine. She wanted to cry, she wanted to scream. Please, was what she wanted to say most of all. Please, brother. Stay. Don't leave me again.
Yet even as she held him tight, her body trembling with contentment, she could feel it all begin to fade. I need you. Her hooves grasped desperately at air and shadows as her brother's form slipped slowly away. She stretched her head to his, to taste his mouth once more, a mouth that was no longer there and a taste she had already forgotten. His blue eyes were wide and apologetic, watching as her joy turned to dust and ash and memory. Her vision blurred as the sobs shook her over and over, and then he was gone. He had never been. It hurt too much to bear. Please. I don't want to be alone.
“Princess?”
Twilight opened her eyes, shaking. Her mane and coat were damp with sweat, her cheeks with the tears that still lingered, clouding her sight. She pawed them angrily away, taking one shuddering breath and then another as she looked about. The night was soft and still, the room dark and pleasantly warm. Everything was much the same as it had been in the dream. Except... except...
“Princess Twilight? Is everything all right?”
No. “Yes, Captain,” she called. “You may enter.” She clambered from her bed as the tall white unicorn entered, horn aglow to light his way. “What is it?”
The pony's expression was rueful in the gleam of his horn. “I apologize for having to wake you at this hour, my lady, but Princess Luna requires your presence. At your earliest convenience, as it please you.” He paused, and Twilight could see a flash of concern on his face as he peered at her from the dimness. “Are you sure you're okay, Princess?”
She forced a smile, uncomfortably aware of how she must look. “I'm fine, Captain, but thank you. And no need to apologize, sleep probably isn't the best idea for me right now anyway.” She rubbed at her eyes. “Could you give me a few moments to get cleaned up?”
“Of course, my lady. The Princess insists there is no hurry. I can await you in the hall, if you desire an escort.”
Twilight nodded absently. “No, wait. That won't be necessary. I can manage. Besides, I'm... afraid I wouldn't make for the best of company this early.”
“I understand entirely. As you wish, my Princess.” He bowed and made to withdraw.
He was at the door when something compelled her to speak. “Captain?”
The unicorn turned. “Yes, Princess?”
“Did you know my brother?”
“I had that honor, my lady,” the large pony affirmed, nodding. “Shining Armor was Captain of the Royal Guard before myself. He was quite the unicorn, that one, and quite the soldier; 'talented, tactful, and tenacious', we used to say.” He grinned. “Sad to see him go, but then the Crystal Empire needed a stallion of his caliber, I suppose. I didn't know him as well as I would have liked, but I do know he spoke of you often, and fondly, Princess. He must be very proud of you. Why do you ask?”
I do not know. “No reason. Thank you, Captain, and sorry for keeping you. Please inform Princess Luna I will be with her presently, if you would be so kind.” The unicorn avowed that he would, and departed, leaving Twilight alone once more.
It was only then, after he had gone, that she finally allowed her composure to fall apart. There was no chill in the room, yet she trembled from head to hoof. Fondly, he said. But not affectionately. Not lovingly. Not... She didn't know what she had expected. Don't think about it, she told herself. Just don't think about it. But the sweet specter of her fitful sleep returned to her there in the darkness, and suddenly her heart was racing again as she remembered how he had touched her, how he had soothed her, how he had gently, passionately... She shook her head. No. It wasn't real, and it never would be.
There was a stone basin atop the vanity beside her bed. Twilight filled it with steaming water and proceeded to wash her face, trying to scrub away the sleep and the tears and whatever remained of the longing that was still visible within the amethysts of her eyes. The heat was calming, and for a moment she stood gazing into the mirror, struggling to collect her thoughts and emotions. Her mane was a tangle, the tresses of lavender and midnight unkempt and dripping. She smiled inwardly. You do look a fright, Twilight. What would the Princess say to see you like this?
She picked up a brush, her horn incandescent as she manipulated it carefully through her hair. The snags and snarls fell away, and she soon lost herself in the steady rhythm of the back-and-forth movement. It was simple and comforting, and it relaxed her, like a lover's caress, a hoof sweeping lightly through her mane...
She turned and hurled the brush with such fury that the handle embedded into the adjacent wall. It stuck there quivering as Twilight sat back on her haunches and hung her head, trembling.
“Why?” she said softly. “Why is it so hard?” She wrapped her hooves tight about herself to try and keep from shaking, clenching her eyes until they hurt. But the tears still fell, streaming silently across her face and down to the tip of her nose. Brother. Why am I like this?
She felt a small weight upon her shoulder, little talons clasping delicately into her coat. Sniffling, Twilight turned her head. A pair of eyes large and round as globes glimmered back at her, wide and mournful.
“Hoo?”
“I'm sorry, Owlowiscious. I woke you, didn't I?” She held out a hoof, and the owl hopped down to perch on the vanity in front of her.
“Hoo, hoo!” He nipped affectionately at a tear glistening on her cheek.
Twilight giggled despite herself. “Easy there, Number Two. I... I'll be okay.” She nuzzled at his feathers. “But thank you.” The owl cooed contentedly.
“Could you do me a favor?” Twilight asked. She scooped up Owlowiscious and placed him back on her shoulder as she padded to the window. “Would you bring a message to the girls for me? I was going to head down to Ponyville early this morning, but I need to help Princess Luna with something first, so I'm probably going to be a little bit late.”
“Hoo?”
“Any of them, though they'll most likely already be together,” she said as she magicked a quill and a scroll over to herself and began to scribble out a note. “It's the day before Hearth's Warming Eve, and we wanted to spend it with one another.”
She threw the window wide, and winter entered the room. The cold was bracing, but Twilight loved it, relishing the crisp, clean air as it gusted, tussling her mane. Equestria still slept. Night had not yet lifted, and a thick, downy blanket of snow covered everything she saw, from the streets of Canterlot below—soon to be bustling with the activity of the day as ponies hurried to and fro with their engagements and endowments—to the tiny, miniature toy houses far off in the distance that she knew to be Ponyville, where her friends awaited her. High and low, near and far, the world was hushed, silken, and still.
Owlowiscious fluttered from her shoulder and settled on the ledge, his feet leaving tiny prints in the snow that had accumulated there. “The train probably won't be running again today,” she said to him as she laced the note delicately to a leg with a twist of ribbon. The skies had been merciless; every day the snow piled higher, and consequently the train had been stranded in Canterlot station for nearly a week. “The pegasi have certainly outdone themselves this year. If worst comes to worst, I'll fly. My wings could use a stretch, actually.”
The owl hooted, eying her doubtfully.
“What? I'm a much better flier since then, you know that! Besides, I love the snow.” Twilight craned her neck upward, watching the flakes spinning lightly from the dark, tumultuous sky. In the capital below, lights flickered on one by one as the city began to wake. “And I love this time of year. It's cold, but it's a time of warmth, a time for sharing and giving. A time for friends and family. It's an opportunity for us all to spend some of our precious time with... with the ones we really love...” Her voice stumbled to a halt.
Owlowiscious cocked his head. “Hoo...?”
“You'd better get going. I've got to go help the Princess.” She managed a smile. “I'll see you soon. And please, be careful.”
The little owl twittered an acknowledgment and opened his wings, taking off from the edge and soaring up into the chilly pre-dawn gloom.
The pony watched him go. “You're a fool, Twilight,” she whispered as his tiny form was swallowed up by the winter blackness. The snow continued to fall, soft and ceaseless. A single tear landed upon the sill, melting away into the ice crystals within a few heartbeats. The princess turned away. “Such a fool.”
***
She found Luna outside her solar, awaiting her arrival. The dusky alicorn looked up, smiling sheepishly as she saw Twilight approach. “Twilight, I apologize for dragging you out of bed at this hour, but I didn't know if I would have the time to talk to you later. Thank you for coming.” She started down the hall, motioning for Twilight to follow.
“I don't mind, Princess,” Twilight replied as she walked beside her. “I wasn't sleeping very well anyway.”
“Holiday excitement, perhaps?”
Among many other things. “Maybe. Actually, I was planning on visiting my friends in Ponyville today, before we all get caught up in the rush of festivities tomorrow. But I can postpone that, if need be. What is it you needed my help with?”
Luna shook her head. “Oh, that won't be necessary. I wouldn't want to keep you from your friends.” She paused. “Would you mind if we spoke out on the balcony? I've been cooped up inside all night, I'd love a chance for a breath of fresh air.”
“Not at all,” Twilight laughed. A large window at the end of the hall opened onto a snow-covered terrace overlooking Canterlot. The two ponies stepped out into the frigid morning. Rays from the pale sunrise were just beginning to crest the horizon, and they shattered and refracted blindingly against the ice and frost. Immense icicles hung like fangs from the balustrade, beautifully menacing.
The princess of the night continued. “Actually, it isn't anything that I need from you, per se, but rather my sister.”
Twilight's face lit up at the mention of her prior mentor. “Oh, is there something Princess Celestia wants me to do?”
“My sister had to make a trip to the Crystal Empire late last night, to oversee certain preparations for Hearth's Warming. She requested that I ask you if you would be willing to make an appearance there as well, either on the eve or the day of.”
Twilight felt a cold weight in the pit of her stomach. Go to the Crystal Empire? But... that would mean... “Of course, I should be happy to.” She hesitated. “But why would Celestia need my help?”
“She said that there is to be a special ceremony. Apparently, Cadence and Shining Armor asked that you be there.”
The weight fell like an anchor. Cadence. Brother. There had been a time once, a time that felt like so very long ago, when Twilight might have been able to cope with the inevitable news that she knew awaited her. Now, though...
She remembered their wedding like it was yesterday. It had felt strange. Alien. Like she was losing a part of herself. Twilight had always been fiercely devoted to her brother, but what she had felt on that night was possessive. It scared her. Cadence was a childhood friend, and her brother... he had been so happy. Surely, surely it was right of her to be happy for them as well? But what she remembered most—what she had never been able to forget—was what he had said to her. None of this would have been possible without you. Love you, Twily.
That was when she had known. That was when she had understood the truth, had realized the full extent of her emotions and the love she possessed for her brother that went beyond the bond of siblings. And it had been far, far too late.
“Twilight? Are you okay?”
Will there ever come a day when I can answer that truthfully? “I... I'd be honored to visit, and to be a part of the crystal ponies' celebration! Is there anything I'll need to prepare? Does Celestia want me to speak at the ceremony?”
“All she requested was that you be present.” Luna was looking at her strangely. Uncomfortably, even. “Twilight, if there is something on your mind...”
“It's nothing, Princess. It's just... very sudden, is all. I suppose I should prepare a few words, just in case. Better I have something handy and not need it,” she said, feigning a smile. Twilight looked out toward the sun, squinting against the brightness. It had almost risen completely. “I really should be going, though. My friends will be waiting for me. I'd like to get to Ponyville as soon as possible, especially now that I know the Princess expects me in the Crystal Empire. Take care, Luna. I'll give Celestia your love.” She turned to go, ruffling her wings in preparation for flight.
“You still dream about him, don't you.”
Her heart froze. “What— what are you saying?”
Luna looked at her sympathetically. “Your brother. You still dream about him. I know what you're going through must be... difficult.”
Twilight was shaking her head, discounting and disbelieving. No. No, no, no. Please, stop, this can't be true, this can't be happening... “I don't know what you're talking about.”
The dark alicorn looked away, as if regretful. “I will not interfere in a dream where I am not wanted, Twilight. Have no fear of that. You love your brother. No one would think less of you for it. But these things you hope for, these dreams you covet and hide from the world, they cannot be.”
“Stop, just stop,” Twilight whispered, wetness stinging her eyes. “You had no right. No right at all...”
“Right? It is my duty. My responsibility. The mind can be a lonely place in one's dreams, Twilight, and I'm worried that—”
“I said ENOUGH!” Twilight shouted. “I don't need your pity, or your disguised condescension!” Her voice was choked and strained, quavering with emotion. “I don't need you to tell me that I'm wrong, that I'm... I'm...” A fool. A miserable fool. “Don't you... don't you think I know what can't be?”
“Please,” Luna said, her distress visible on her face. “Do not torment yourself with something such as this. It will eat away at you, every day, until the jealousy consumes you. You must find the strength to let it go.”
Twilight glared at her, eyes veiled by tears, concern and courtesy ousted by her shame. “Jealousy, Luna?” She spoke with derision and scorn. “You're none to speak to me of jealousy.”
Luna looked at her for a long moment before replying. “I know,” she finally said, ever so softly. “And I paid for it, Twilight. A thousand years I paid for it.”
“You think I would not gladly do the same? I would, if it meant... if it only meant...” Twilight turned her head aside, clenching her eyes and her teeth against the tears. But that will never be. “I've stayed here too long already. Goodbye, Luna.” She walked to the edge of the balustrade.
“Twilight,” the princess called quietly. Twilight turned slowly, hollow indifference on her face. Luna gazed at her imploringly. “Please. Leave him in your dreams.”
The young pony said not a word, but spread her wings, and did not look back.
***
She flew high, higher than she ever had before, into the dark swirling clouds and on, through them and above them, until she had climbed to their frozen summits. Her coat was damp and slick with moisture; ice particles hung glittering from her feathers and mane, and her horn was bound with a thin layer of frost. Twilight was cold, colder than she had ever been, but she barely felt it. All she knew was the quiet, and the perfect silence that came from her boreal isolation. Up here, she could finally be alone with her thoughts. Their company was honest, if of small comfort.
She watched the morning come to life as the sun burst forth among the clouds, high above the world.
Brother, the beauty up here is beyond words. I wish I could show you. I wish you were here with me. I wish... for so many things. But she could never share those words or feelings with him, she knew.
“Maybe Luna's right,” she said to herself as she dipped below the clouds once more. A part of her knew that what she wanted couldn't be, shouldn't be, and that chasing it would only tear her soul apart. Maybe she really did just need to let go, to try and accept. And move on.
But it was so much harder than that. Could she really give in? Give up on her brother, and on herself? Maybe her feelings were wrong, but they were hers, and hers alone. The very thought seemed more wrong to her than any dreams she may have had. I am anything but weak, brother. You'll see. I will find a way to make sense of all of this.
The flight to Ponyville was a short one, thankfully, as by now Twilight was shivering from the wet and the cold air, but at least the snow had stopped. She made her descent, angling toward the old library that had once served as her home when she had first come to the town, long before she had her wings. That was where her friends would be waiting for her.
"Well, well," a voice called from above her. "If it isn't her royal highness, descending from on high to mingle with the common rabble."
Twilight stopped in midair and looked up to see Rainbow Dash dangling from a wisp of cloud just overhead, smirking. She beat her lavender wings once and joined the pegasus resting lazily upon it. "Some last minute weather duty, I see."
Rainbow Dash saluted mockingly. "Yes, Princess."
"You have done the realm a great disservice," Twilight remarked dryly, barely concealing a grin. "I should have you arrested for this travesty of a season."
"Just doing my part, ma'am."
The two ponies looked at each other for a long moment, then burst out laughing. The young pegasus leaped up and entwined Twilight in an enormous hug. Together they fell from the cloud, disentangling from the embrace to spread their wings in the cold morning air.
"It's so good to see you, Rainbow," Twilight said as they hovered close to one another.
"Likewise!" The blue mare smiled. "Everyone else is waiting for you in the library. We didn't expect you so soon, what with the letter you sent about Princess Luna."
At that Twilight's face fell ever so slightly. She tried to hide it, but her friend did not fail to notice. Rainbow's expression grew solemn. "Everything okay, Twilight?"
"Don't worry about it, Dash," she said. "I didn't sleep as well as I would have liked, and I've just got some things on my mind." She smiled. "But you don't need to listen to my doom and gloom. The others are waiting. Come on, I'll race y—"
Rainbow Dash was gone before she could finish. Twilight never stood a chance.
The morning had dawned in full as the princess and the pegasus alighted in front of the twisted tree-library. They paused to watch a young group of foals throwing snowballs at one another across the road. Six in all, the two unicorns were handing the others a stunning defeat (though, to be fair, magic was sort of cheating); that was, until the pegasi and earth ponies banded together and tackled them headlong into a snowbank. Rainbow hollered, cheering them on from afar. Twilight smiled. Ponyville. Some things never changed.
Put on a happy face, Twilight, she thought to herself as she stood at the door of the library, poised to enter. For your friends. She opened the door, and was immediately met with the cheer and warmth of the season.
Strings of fairy lights hung all about the bookcases and walls. Mistletoe, holly, and ivy dangled merrily from the ceiling. Garlands of spruce and fir and pine trimmed the banister that led to what had once been her room, and here and there more sprays were strewn about festively. There was music, soft and slow, drifting lazily toward her ears from the old record player. She could smell nutmeg and ginger, cinnamon, chestnuts, roasted apples, and sweet sugar cane, along with a whole wealth of others. For a moment her troubles were forgotten as she took in the majesty around her.
“TWILIGHT!” An energetic ball of pink suddenly materialized. “So glad you could make it!” Pinkie said, beaming at her.
“Hoo!”
The pink pony looked up into her mane, where Owlowiscious was perched contentedly. “Oh, and I have your owl!”
Twilight couldn't help but smile. “I see that,” she said, laughing. “You got my note then, I take it? Glad to see you started without me.”
“Of course, dear.” Rarity smiled when she saw Twilight. “Owlowiscious was kind enough to deliver it to us. It's good to see you, darling.”
“Same goes for me!” Applejack crowed, her mouth filled with food.
“Um. I just want to say, thanks,” Fluttershy mumbled. “For inviting me, I mean.”
Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes, hovering about Twilight as she helped brush the snow from her coat. “Why the heck would we not invite you?”
Twilight grinned. “It's so nice to see all of you.” She held out a hoof, and Owlowiscious fluttered to her. “And thank you, Number Two. Why don't you head up to my old room and get some rest?” The owl hooted his assent wearily and glided up to the second level.
Rarity turned to Twilight. “What did Princess Luna need from you, Twilight? Final preparations for Hearth's Warming Eve tomorrow?”
“Actually, I'm supposed to go to the Crystal Kingdom, per Celestia's request.” She looked around before spying the banquet table, laden with courses. “If you don't mind, I'm going to dig in, I think. It was a cold flight, and I'm famished.”
“Eat up!” Rainbow said. “There's going to be more than even the six of us can finish.”
The spread was marvelous. Every dish—from the apple preserves and cobbler (courtesy of Applejack, Twilight knew) to the expertly-crafted salads and pastries—looked more delicious than the last. In the center of the table rested one of Rarity's beautiful china bowls, brimming with their favorite punch. Seeing it filled Twilight with bittersweet memories.
“Why does Princess Celestia want you to come all the way to the Crystal Empire?” Fluttershy asked.
Twilight hesitated as she reached for a little bit of everything. I can't lie to them about it. “She said... she said she wanted me to make an appearance,” she answered. “There's going to be an important ceremony. Apparently, Cadence and my brother asked the Princess that I attend.”
“Ceremony? What, for some kind of announcement?” Rarity wondered aloud.
“I suppose.”
“Special news, huh?” Applejack smirked. “From those two? And a ceremony? If they specifically invited Twilight to be there, ya know it can only be one thing.”
Pinkie's face lit up like a fire on Hearth's Warming Eve. “You don't think... is Cadence expecting?!”
“I'd bet my left horseshoe,” Applejack replied, taking an enormous bite of her apple cobbler.
“Oh, I do hope it's a little filly,” Rarity chimed in. “I would just love trying my hoof at an outfit for a newborn foal! They're always so adorable at that age. My sister notwithstanding,” she muttered into her punch.
“Filly, colt, whatever,” Rainbow said. “If it has wings, I'll be happy.”
Fluttershy giggled. “Maybe it'll be twins!”
There was a deafening crash from the other side of the room. Startled, the five ponies looked around toward the sound and their friend. The table was scattered in pieces all about the room, blasted to tiny bits, as was the punch bowl, and what remained of the food. In the center of it all stood Twilight, shaking and crying softly.
“Shut up,” she whispered. “Please, just shut up...”
For a long moment they all sat there, looking in turn from Twilight, trembling and sobbing quietly, and to one another. Each saw the same expression of disquiet and disconcertion on the others' faces that they held upon their own.
“Twilight,” Fluttershy finally said quietly. “What's wrong?”
Two simple words, that's all they were. But to answer them felt nothing short of impossible. How could she possibly tell them the truth? But if she could not confide even the worst of herself in her friends...
And in that moment, she made her decision.
“I love my brother,” she whispered.
Her friends all looked at each other in bewilderment. “But, Twilight, every sister loves their brother,” Rarity said perplexedly.
No. Not like me. “You don't understand,” she said, terrified. “I love him.” And then it all came out of her, everything, a torrent of the emotions she had held hidden for so long. “I want to be with him, always. I want to spend my life with him. I want us to have nights together where we do nothing but read until we fall asleep side by side. I want to wake up each morning, knowing he'll be there. I want to hold him and kiss him and make love to him. I want to be his, and his alone. I just want a life with my brother by my side. If I had that, I wouldn't want anything else. I... I need him.”
The five ponies were silent for what felt like an eternity. Twilight watched as their expressions turned from confusion to uncertainty, and finally, to discontent.
“Twilight...” Pinkie began. “That's...”
“He's your brother, Twilight,” Applejack said. “Your own flesh and blood."
“Surely you understand how strange that sounds?” Rarity asked.
“I know how it must sound,” Twilight said softly. “I know only too well.” She tasted salt upon her lips, the bitter taste of tears. “I don't understand why... why I'm like this, why I feel this way. But it's the truth. How am I supposed to just forget, to push it all away inside? I can't just deny something I feel this strongly. Isn't that worth something?” she pleaded. “To know what I feel?”
Applejack was shaking her head. “I don't know, Twilight. I just don't know...” None of the others could find a voice or words with which to speak.
“What do you want us to say?” Fluttershy asked quietly, after a time.
“Anything!” she sobbed. “Tell me I'm a fool. Tell me that it's hopeless, that it's pointless to go on dreaming. Tell me that it will never happen, that it can never be. Just tell me I'm still the me you knew before. Tell me these feelings of mine... aren't wrong.”
Twilight looked at each of her friends, beseeching them all for a glimpse of understanding, of acceptance. She turned to Fluttershy, who looked more frightened than usual; and Pinkie, with her eyes that were always so full of laughter, now sad and confused; Applejack, a frown and a furrowed brow her sole assertion; and Rarity, her expression a mask of sorrow and the deepest sympathy. And Rainbow, who had said nothing, had done nothing but watch and listen as Twilight had made her confession, the whole time with a strange, faraway look upon her face.
In the end, it was Applejack who ultimately spoke for them all. “You mean... lie to you?”
And that was when Twilight finally understood what her dreams stood to cost her.
“Sun and moon, help me,” she said, backing slowly away from them all. What have I done? “I was certain, if there were anyone, you... you at least...”
“Twilight, wait,” Pinkie said, taking a step toward her. "That's not what AJ meant."
Rarity joined her, voicing her agreement. "You have to understand, Twilight. This is all just so... so very sudden. I don't think any of us could have anticipated this. We just need some time to understand, to wrap our heads around things. It doesn't mean we think differently of you, Twilight."
"You're our friend, and we love you," Fluttershy went on. "That won't ever change, no matter who you are on the inside, because you're still you."
At that, Applejack interjected with a sound somewhere between pity and incredulity. The others turned to look at her. The earth pony shook her head, looking to Twilight as she spoke. "What they said is all well and good," she began. "And I ain't gonna say they're wrong. But it looks like once again I gotta be the one to tell ya the truth. The whole truth, ev'ry miserable last piece of it. We're your friends, Twi. We'll accept you no matter what, no matter who ya are. But the rest?" She sighed deeply. Twilight had never seen her so conflicted, so unsure. "They won't understand, and many won't even try to. The truth, Twilight, is that this does change things. It changes everything. Who ya are, and who the world sees you as." Applejack's eyes never left Twilight's own. "Of course, ya knew that already..."
"Yes," the young unicorn answered softly.
"...but can you live with it?"
And there it is, Twilight thought. The real question. The only question that matters. She didn't have an answer.
Rarity was incredulous. "Applejack, how could you ask her something like that?
The pony was unapologetic. "I didn't say she would like it, an' I didn't say it'd be easy for her to hear. But she's got to know, Rarity. She's got to know what it might be like. Telling her everything'll be okay ain't gonna help her, 'cause we all know it might not be."
"She knows how it must sound, even to us. The least we can do is try and support her."
"An' what about everyone else? What would other ponies say, if they knew? What about her brother? What about Cadence?"
"She isn't a young filly chasing silly dreams anymore!" Rarity scoffed. "She's not about to go gallivanting after her own brother. I'm sure she knows that she can't actually pursue this." The unicorn glanced at Twilight. "Right, dear?"
Twilight's hesitation was answer enough.
"Applejack's right," she said before they could voice their concerns. "And I have no idea what I'm going to do." She was trembling once more. "This was a mistake. I should have said nothing at all. But now it's too late. Now you all know. And I can't ever take it back."
"Twilight, please," Pinkie said desperately, "Stay. We're here for you. Let us help you."
No, I can't. I just can't. “I'm sorry. I never meant to involve you in this." I just thought... "I'm so sorry.” She turned and fled, bursting through the door and out into the grey cold, taking to the sky. Where she meant to go she neither knew nor cared, just away, away from everything, away from all of this.
The snow had started again, pouring bleakly from the dark maw of clouds above. It settled in her coat and wings as she flew, tiny pricks of white speckled against the pale lavender. The icy wind ripped at her mane. It sounded like laughter.
Twilight landed in a field far outside of Ponyville, barren and deserted. The snow lay in drifts and valleys, like an ocean of ice. There was not a soul in sight. The silence was absolute as she sat and watched the flakes fall from the cold, shrouded sky. Within moments a thin coat of it covered her own, and she found herself thinking that she wouldn't much mind if it buried her completely.
Luna, and now my friends. How much more was she going to lose? Disdain and disillusion. Is this what it means to follow your heart?
“Brother,” she said to the white world before her. “I've tried my whole life to learn, to achieve, to be the best I could be. I thought that if I worked hard enough, you would always be proud to call me your little sister. Even more than mom and dad, you were the one that I went to with everything—all of my thoughts, my dreams and aspirations. And my troubles. Yours was the only opinion that really mattered to me. I wonder... what ever would you say if you saw me now?”
The snow had no answer but to continue to fall.
“Twilight.”
She turned. Rainbow Dash stood behind her, shivering against the cold. The wind and snow whipped at the ragged, resplendent mane that was her namesake. “Please, I just want to talk.”
“You had a chance to do that back there. You didn't seem interested in talking then. Go away, Dash,” she said, eyes downcast. “Please, just leave me be.”
The pegasus made no move to go, but instead stepped closer. “The Twilight I know would never run from her problems, or her friends.”
“Then you're a bigger fool than she is.”
“Maybe,” Rainbow said. “But then, you always were the brightest of all of us.” She came and sat next to Twilight, watching beside her as the snow tumbled from the sky. “You're wrong, you know.”
The violet pony glared at her. “For loving my brother? Glad you finally caught on.”
“Possibly that, as well. Far be it from me to tell you who to love, Twilight.” She gazed at Twilight, her magenta eyes calm and pensive. “But what I meant was, you're wrong if you think you're alone in feeling the way you do.”
“You could never know what I'm feeling.”
The pegasus looked down at her hooves. “I thought you'd say that.”
“I'm in love with my brother! There's something wrong with me!” There were tears in Twilight's eyes once more. “How could you possibly understand how if feels to dream about someone every single night, and never wake up next to them? How could you possibly understand the shame of loving someone who's related to you? How could you possibly know what it's like to have to see that pony, and how much it kills you to smile, to be happy, to pretend like nothing isn't as it should—”
Rainbow drew her close and kissed her. Her lips were cold, but her mouth was soft and sweet, and so, so warm. It was only a moment, no longer; and then just like that it was done, and her friend had pulled away, looking at her with a small, sad smile. Twilight was speechless, eyes wide with sudden comprehension.
“So you see, I do know what it's like,” the pegasus said quietly. “At least, I know what it's like to want something you shouldn't. I know what it's like to love someone who will never feel the same. And I know what it means to choose to bury those feelings.”
Try as she might to speak, the words wouldn't come. I never knew, Rainbow. I swear, I never knew...
“We all have to make choices, Twilight. There comes a time when we all must try and reconcile who we are with who we want to be. I made my choice, for better or worse. As will you. I can't tell you what to choose, or which is right or wrong. Only you can do that. And who are we to judge you for it?”
“Rainbow,” Twilight whispered. Her tears were frozen where they ran, cold and crystalline. “How long...?”
“Always," came the hushed reply. "But ever since I first saw your wings, I've thought about what it would be like to be able to fly with you, every day." She looked away. "It never gets any easier, Twilight.” The pegasus spread her wings. “Whatever you choose, it's you who will have to live with it. As I have.”
She beat her long, graceful wings, soaring up into the grey. Twilight watched until her friend was lost to sight, wondering how she could have been so blind as the cold reigned all around her, and the snow came down, down, down.
The morning sun was warm as it played across her coat and slipped along the contours of her wings, but even the light paled in comparison to the glory of its caretaker who stood before her.
How strange then, Twilight Sparkle mused, that she had always failed to notice that that same warmth never quite reached the eyes of her prior mentor. Even now, there are lessons to be learned from you, Princess.
Celestia shifted uncomfortably, as if searching for her next words; a rarity, Twilight knew. “You must understand, Twilight,” she said, her pearlescent mane shifting in the sun. “You will not find answers hidden away among the pages of a book. There is no guide for grieving, no spell or scroll that I can give to you for study. There is only one true salve for loss.” She paused, and for a moment Celestia's gaze left Twilight to settle on one of the many etchings of stained glass that adorned the windows of the throne room—the face of the moon, with a darkness at its center. “Time.”
And how many eons did it take for you to go numb to that loss, Celestia? Odd, she thought, that a pony who need never fear the experience herself be able to comprehend what it meant to those left behind. But of course that wasn't true, Twilight reminded herself. One day. One day, when all of this is long gone. Even the sun must die, Princess.
“But perhaps I can help,” the alicorn continued. “Talk to me, Twilight. You know that I am always here for you.” She reached down and touched the younger pony gently. “What are you feeling?”
She might have laughed. What did she feel? Anger? Sadness? Confusion or pity or longing? Regret? Guilt? She could have said any of them. After all, what is one against all the others?
The word that passed her lips, she decided, was guilt enough.
***
The morning sun was warm, her amethyst coat drinking in the light and heat in adoration as the rays kissed it. Her ears twitched as a trio of mourning doves lilted a doleful refrain. A light breeze tickled her nose, and with it came the scents of spring: damp, musky earth after last night's rain; lavender, daisies and daffodils; dew upon the heather, and everything green and full of life coming back into the world.
The others stood close beside her as Twilight awaited her turn to speak. She had barely spoken to any of them since they had last been together on the morning before Hearth's Warming Eve, but whether out of courtesy or compassion this fact did not seem to be on anyone's mind but her own, and Twilight had to admit she was grateful for their presence.
Applejack and Fluttershy had said little, but their hugs were sympathetic and true and their faces kind and understanding; they had braided white trillium into their manes, garnished by irises.
Rarity looked as Rarity always did—stunning, beautiful, graceful. She rubbed her nose against Twilight's cheek as she cooed a steady stream of condolences. Twilight managed a half-smile and a nod for each, and gave Rarity an affectionate hug in return.
Pinkie had come next. The poor pink pony said not a word, but placed her front hooves about Twilight's neck and held her close. When they pulled apart Pinkie's eyes were wide and full of sorrow, and Twilight was reminded how unequivocally the earth pony could encompass the extremes of the emotional spectrum. Her mane was pressed straight, as it often was at times like these, and delicate, periwinkle ribbons stitched the length.
And then she turned, and there was Rainbow Dash. The pegasus smiled hesitantly, her blue coat gleaming like the sky above. Twilight's breath caught as she saw her friend's mane: normally garish and ungroomed, it cascaded down her neck and back, even and flowing, with the tips curled and tressed to perfection. Most magnificent of all, though, were the colors. Every hue ran and mingled, blending in the sun until Twilight could not tell where one ended and another began. It was beautiful, remarkable, and... so unlike the pony she knew. Twilight opened her mouth to ask how, why, but Rainbow Dash moved forward and embraced her, and the opportunity was lost. It seemed to Twilight that Rainbow held her for a long time, but if such were the case the others seemed not to notice and said nothing. Either way, by then it was time for the service to begin. As the pegasus released her and settled by her side, Twilight found to her shame that she could not bring herself to meet those magenta eyes.
Ponies mourned in seasons, and the attire that Rarity had prepared for them reflected such. The stark contrasts of black and white were normally reserved for winter, as were various shades of grey, ice blue, and the occasional deep, charcoal-red. But winter was passed, and even at a funeral, spring bespoke life.
Pastels were the norm—greens and pinks and yellows and blues—and the solemnity of their purpose was marked in form and design rather than pigment; light and elegant, yet simple and reserved. Twilight was certain they were marvelous—Rarity had made them, of course they were marvelous—but she paid the accoutrements little attention. She felt restless, and her mind was elsewhere.
She shook her head to clear her thoughts and immediately wished she hadn't. Her own dress, which was the same fathomless blue of midnight as her mane and by far the most somber of the lot, was accompanied by a matching veil of lace that tapered just beneath her eyes. Rarity had insisted that she wear it, but it shrouded her sight and caught against her mane whenever she moved. It seemed, in a word, unnecessary.
Her gaze resolved upon the large silver brazier that stood like a beacon high above them on the dais. The assembly this morning was small, it being reserved for friends and family of the deceased, but the crowd before it would swell quickly over the course of the day as the undoubtedly hundreds of ponies who would wish to pay their respects passed by with a word, a prayer, a tear. Only as the evening drew to a close and Princess Luna raised the moon would the ashes be released, proffered to the wind and the night.
Twilight sighed and ruffled the feathers of her wings in constrained agitation. It had been nearly three years since she had been given the gift of flight, and it had taken her the better part of that time to truly become accustomed to even the slight additional weight the appendages conveyed, let alone to flying itself. Lately, though, she had felt overcome by sudden instinctual, almost primal desires to spread her wings and fly as high and as fast as she could. She had read about the wild, often wayward tendencies of pegasi of course, but she was uncertain what effect, if any, she would experience after she had received her wings—she was still first and foremost a unicorn, after all. After two years had passed without even the slightest urge to randomly take to the skies, she had concluded smugly that it had been nil. Being friends with Rainbow Dash for so long should have taught her better.
Rainbow.
Her mind wavered on the name. Her wings quivered and her whole body tensed, and she had to fight down the impulse that screamed at her to fly, to soar, to... get away. She felt a light brush of feathers at her side, and she turned to see Rainbow looking at her, a small smile on her face. Twilight bit her lip; she could feel herself turning red, the look in Dash's eyes was so knowing. Those wistful eyes were the only calm thing about the pegasus, but she thought that they could see right through her.
It never gets any easier, Twilight.
“Twilight?”
Fluttershy's quiet prodding broke her reverie. Startled, she looked about to see every pony staring at her. She smiled sheepishly, licked her dry lips, nodded. It was time.
She climbed the steps to the top of the dais, pausing to look at the ashen-faced stallion who stood beside the brazier. A cobalt mane spilled from beneath the open-faced helmet that covered his head, and sweat beaded on his brow and ran down into his eyes, sunken and sleepless. He would stand vigil until the night came, she knew. She went to him, and he embraced her.
“Thank you for being here, Twilight,” he said softly.
She kissed his cheek. She would never be as tall as he was, but it seemed as though she didn't have to reach as far as she remembered. “Of course, big brother.”
As she began her speech, she realized she was thankful for the veil in the end. At least this way they couldn't see that her eyes were dry.
***
“No, I can't. I shouldn't. It wouldn't be right.”
The evening sun was warm against her back, but it traced a hard line across her brother's features; being here had changed him, Twilight realized. There was a stiffness about him, a hardness in his eyes that seemed to mirror the edges of the crystals that were everywhere around them. Smooth was a term that didn't find much use in the Empire, she reflected. And there were times, when he would move or turn and the light hit him just so, that she could swear she saw a flash, a shimmer in his coat or mane. She wondered absently if living amongst the crystal ponies could turn one brittle and fragile as well.
Because it couldn't be the death of a loved one, could it?
For all that, though, for all that had happened, her brother's voice was still as kind as it ever had been. “Right?” he repeated, hooves spread confusedly. “Twilight, Cadence helmed this legislation herself. She was its biggest proponent, and even Celestia signed off on it. Giving back rule of the Empire to the crystal ponies, letting them decide their own fate for the first time in generations... surely, they deserve that after all they've been through?”
“I know. I know. I'm sorry, I didn't mean—” She faltered. What could she say? Tell him the real reason she feared staying here?
Shining Armor mistook the cause for her hesitation as grief, of course. “Look, I know it's... it's been difficult.” He put his hoof around her and rested his head against her own. She could practically feel his exhaustion, could smell the heat of his breath, and the rest of him—a curious combination of the smokey torridity of magic mixed with freshly fallen snow. “But it would only be for a few months, until they can get all of this sorted out. It's what she would have wanted, Twilight.”
Why? Why did they always say that? It's what she would have wanted. Twilight looked up at him, at the small smile spread so thin that it was close to breaking, at the cool blue eyes that were a thousand miles away. How he had found the strength to build this facade of acceptance, she could not say. But it would not last forever. And me, brother? If I were gone, would you know what I'd have wanted? She thought she knew the answer.
She swallowed. And nodded. And nuzzled her head against his chest. Her horn glowed faintly as it brushed along his coat.
“The crystal ponies need someone to look up to right now,” Shining Armor went on. “Just as a figurehead, a pony who can be there as they take that step. You've helped them once already, and I know it would put them at ease just having you here again.” He lowered his head slightly to look her in the eyes. “Will you? If not for me, then for them?”
I would do anything for you, brother. It's her that... that...
She was your friend.
“Yes,” Twilight said. “I'll stay.”
***
The mind could be a lonely place in one's dreams.
The night was soft and still. Through an open window drifted the sparse sounds and smells of a world at rest, waiting for the morning to come again. A warm wind brought the memory of rain, and somewhere far afield a whippoorwill trilled, hidden amongst the rushes.
Her room was flooded by the dour luminescence of the moon, a shining crest in the darkness. Twilight lay awake in bed, ill at ease beneath its incessant gleam. Below the covers, she wrestled with her weariness.
Her mane was damp from the exertion. She pawed the loose strands from her eyes, shifting them so that they fell just to the left of her horn. Gone were the bangs she had often worn as a young mare, replaced by a single dusky wave that descended between her shoulders; it looked lurid in the moonlight.
Her breath came in stops and starts, her chest rising and falling as she struggled against the flush that began in her face and neck, creeping down to her belly and finally between her thighs, where a hoof still lingered in resignation. The pleasure had passed, fleeting as always, and in its wake had come the swell of sweet nothingness that she craved nearly as much. But even that had begun to fade, and still sleep eluded her, and the peaceful emptiness began to hollow and harden as it turned to isolation and seclusion. She could taste a bile of shame at the back of her throat, and she fought to choke it down. At one time her dreams had been repose enough, but no longer.
And the mind can be a lonely place in one's dreams.
“Shut up, Luna.” She glowered at the broken orb in the sky. It gazed back serenely, altogether disinterested.
Another sleepless night. Twilight lay back against her pillow, staring dejectedly at the dark canopy of cloth above her. Ever since she had decided to stay in the Crystal Empire, sleep seemed to shun her more often than not. Most nights were like this one, with the effort leaving her exhausted and empty. She often thought about that day, when she had left directly from Ponyville to answer the Princess' summons and attend the ceremony that Cadence and her brother had been planning. I didn't have to go. I could have found an excuse. I could have stayed in Ponyville and spent the holiday with my friends. Even after what she had told them, even through her stubborn pride and embarrassment, all they had wanted was to be there for her, to help her.
Even Rainbow Dash...
But she hadn't. Like the good student she was, like the good sister, the good friend, she had come to hear the news that Cadence and Shining Armor had wanted so dearly to tell her in person. She remembered their excitement vividly—the bated breath, the rapturous smiles beaming at her from ear to ear, the way they stood, pressed so close to one another. Even now, almost five months later, the memory of those smiles haunted her.
Because you left. You couldn't stand to see them so happy, so you ran away. You left without even saying goodbye.
Twilight ground her teeth as she tried to push the thoughts away. She shivered, wings stirring in her unquiet as she looked through the open window at the moon hanging lonely in the dark above. The pallid light dimmed briefly as a few scattered trails of cloud drifted past, borne on some invisible current of the evening.
“I had to go,” she said, gazing up at the silent moon. “I had duties; in Canterlot, in Ponyville. And I came back. I did, I...”
But you weren't here when it really mattered.
In the vexatious manner of pegasi to which she was becoming so accustomed, she knew what she was going to do the instant before it happened. With one fluid movement she slipped from the bed and glided to the window, her front hooves poised upon the ledge. She paused only a moment before leaping into the night.
She arced upward, toward the clouds in their heavens. The wind echoed in her ears as she ascended, the blood in the veins of her wings pounding and pulsing as their feathers drank greedily at the air. She felt a stillness steal over her as she flew, a calmness of both mind and body.
Higher, it told her.
Up here, it was unlikely that her solitude would be intruded upon: pegasi were something of an oddity in the Empire. True, some had relocated here for one reason or another, and through the generations there had been the occasional naturally-born crystal pegasi or unicorn, but the Crystal Empire always had been, and was likely to remain, comprised mainly of earth ponies. Many scholars held the belief that the crystal ponies and the place they called home were possessed of a strange symbiosis, and that both owed their existence in no small part to the esoteric inner-magics of the earth ponies. In another time, another Twilight would have loved nothing more than to spend endless nights delving into their history and secrets, pouring over every cracked, dusty binding she could get her hooves on. How long ago that seemed. Now, she knew only one calling.
Fly.
...and forget.
The world began to fall away. Spring had come late to the Empire, as it often did in the north, and she could see the remnants of winter clinging gravely to the surrounding landscape. Patches of snow and frost encircled immense columns of ice, towering upward as they defied the changing seasons to the last. Even at night they wept, slowly fading like poison being drawn from a wound. In the vast distance, the mountains of the Far North cut their jagged way across the horizon in ominous perpetuity.
Higher.
She touched the clouds, grey and guarded by the darkness. The droplets licked at her as she passed through them, and soon her coat and mane glistened and she was chilled to the bone. The cold only made her smile, and press on. Not for the first time, Twilight marveled that she could manipulate the vapor at a whim, and the particles would collapse or coalesce as they acquiesced to her thought and touch. She thrashed her laden wings, clearing the nebula as she plunged upward into the night.
Higher. Farther. Fly.
Her horn was coated with rime, and she could feel her feathers begin to freeze and stiffen as the frigid air threatened to consume her. Each breath was a struggle and burned with the cold, and her lungs ached in protest with every effort. There was nothing before her but the great black gulf of absolute night, the only things piercing the darkness the small, sequestered stars. And the moon, crescentic and looming, staidly reflecting its sad, stolen light. She was above the world, above the clouds, above the sky itself. All was silence and perfect stillness. And she could go no further.
The pony turned her back on the moon and the stars, closed her wings, and fell.
In a way, falling was even better than flying. There was no effort—only freedom, and a sense of helpless abandon as gravity took her in its grasp. It was so easy, too easy, but she didn't care. All she had to do was let go, and within seconds she could feel the wonderful recklessness of the fear and fervor that came with speed. It was a speed, she found herself thinking, that only one pegasus could hope to match.
A laugh. “This? As fast as me?”
The voice came as no surprise, though Twilight knew to have heard it was an impossibility. But there she was beside her, the pegasus who was every part a storm: her mane was lightning, her wings thunder, her coat the rain that filled the sky. And her eyes, eyes that were the troubled peace that always came after. There was the ghost of a smile on her lips, and she glided nearer as she chided Twilight softly. “Only in your dreams.”
Only in your dreams. Ah, but of course. Twilight smiled inwardly, and without any fuss the cold disappeared and the wind was silenced, though still she fell. She looked below her and saw that the ground remained, distant but creeping ever closer. Dreams were such a strange thing—they were so real, until they weren’t. All it might take was an inkling, a quiet perception, and suddenly the real and the not-so-real became distinct, and though by then you knew the truth still you might find those in your dreams who could never be there otherwise. And seldom are they the ones we truly wish to see.
“But perhaps, just the ones we need to,” her phantom-friend whispered, or thought, or dreamed as well.
“If only I could be what you wanted me to be,” Twilight said. She sincerely hoped that whatever Rainbow Dash found in her dreams was kinder than her own. Do I fly beside you every night? Do you at least have that much? In the fickle, absurd logic that ruled this corner of the mind, one could find everything they ever wanted or everything they ever feared. All too often it seemed, those things became one and the same.
“And what do you want?”
The princess pondered as the two ponies fell through the sky. “I... I don't know. I want... I want everything to be the way it was. I want to be with my friends again, and forget everything that's happened. I want to go away from here. The Empire. I want to go…” The last word caught in her throat. Home. And where was that?
“I think you know,” Rainbow said quietly.
Yes, and that’s what I’m afraid of. “I should be with him right now, and instead I’m running away. Like last time. Like I always do.”
“What happened to Cadence wasn't your fault. You weren't there—”
“But I could have been! I should have been. He needed me then more than ever, and I wasn’t there.”
“But you could be there now.”
She could. Oh, how many times she had resolved to go to him, to reassure him that the world hadn’t fallen away in the night, and that though he had been robbed of so much there would always be a pony there for him. But every time she saw him she could not help but also see how much closer he was to breaking, and instead of feeling pity or sympathy or remorse on his behalf, the only thing she felt was want, want, want. And desire was a filthy substitute for compassion.
“Rainbow,” Twilight began, and there was a strange mix of languor and yearning in her voice, a fatigue of the soul that was so complete it could only be felt in a dream. “When you’re flying, and it’s time to land and you begin your descent, do you ever think about the fall? I mean, what comes after. What would happen at the end.” She smiled dryly. “Of course, you already know what would happen. You would never do it. But you can’t help but think about it, about what if, what if. What if you should fall?”
“Please,” Rainbow murmured. “Please, don’t say…”
“I think about it sometimes,” Twilight said, paying her no mind as she continued. “And I have these wings, and all I would have to do is open them, let the wind catch them, and everything would be fine. But I’m afraid, because what if I don’t? It would be so easy to just fly away, but somehow there’s always a chance… I might not. I might not.”
She looked at the mare beside her, and in those eyes she could see that her words had cut deep. Even in a dream, some things were so hard to say. “But what scares me most of all is the possibility that I simply don’t care. Not caring, knowing I don’t care—that would be the worst part, I think. The choices we make don’t mean much, not when all they are is a decision of whether to harm ourselves or another. Either way pain is caused, regardless of our intentions. Fly or fall, it doesn’t really matter in the end. We’re all headed to the same place, and we’ll all reach it eventually. It makes no difference how, or when, or why.”
The pegasus was shaking her head, disbelieving. Twilight thought for a moment that there might have been tears in her eyes, but no, that was silly. Dream or not, Rainbow Dash didn’t cry.
“I never wished for these wings. I wish they would have gone to someone more deserving, to a pony who had less than I did. What a difference that could have made in a life, had they not been wasted on me. My hooves belong on the ground, and my feelings belong to no one but myself. I don’t belong up here, any more than I belong with him.” She could see the ground clearly now, ascending quickly from the deep below. Soon the sun would rise over the land and the shadows would fade, making way for another day. The thought saddened her, and she did not know why.
“It matters,” Rainbow Dash replied. “Maybe not to you, but to the ones that love you. You matter—to your friends, to your brother. To me. We will not let you go.” The pegasus unfurled her long, slender wings, and they shone with the light of the stars. “Whether you choose to fly or not makes no difference to me,” her friend said as she reached out to embrace her. “I have wings enough for us both. And I will not let you fall.”
Yes, you will, Twilight thought. Because you’re just a dream. The pony that had been at her side was gone, and she was alone. And in our dreams, there’s only ever one way to wake up.
The ground spread wide and hard and cold as it reached up to meet her.
***
She startled into wakefulness, as if slipping from one nightmare to the next. Her hooves shook uncontrollably, though the room was only cool, and she hastened to cover herself with a tangled blanket as the loose memories of the dream and what she had done before trickled back to her. There was a light, warm pulse below her belly, echoed in her throat, and she held herself tight to ward off the shame and the chill. There she lay, shaking as the minutes dragged by.
But there was only so warm a pony could make themselves on their own. With one final lasting glance at the moon, Twilight climbed from beneath the canopy and left her bedroom behind.
The royal chambers were not far from her own, which perhaps was for the best, lest she lose her nerve. There were no guards at the entrance, Shining Armor having dismissed them from that duty once he remained as the sole occupant. The door was ajar, and Twilight hesitated only slightly before entering.
She stopped just beyond the threshold. Hanging above the bed was a large chandelier, crystalline and translucent as glass. Three small, candle-less flames burned steadily in their sconces. The blue fire cast an eerily profound light across the room, and Twilight lowered her gaze to the lone figure below, watching as the glow danced across his gleaming white coat. In the gloom, her brother looked as tenuous as a ghost.
Slowly, quietly, nervously, she took two tentative steps forward, and then another, and another, until she was sitting on the bed beside his sleeping form. His mane was matted with sweat, as was much of his coat. From time to time the long cords of muscle in his legs twitched just beneath the skin. She wrinkled her nose as the cloying scent of alcohol drifted up to her, and for a long time she did nothing but watch as his chest rose and fell. She wanted so much to touch him, to feel him, to touch her hoof to his and to lay her head against his chest. So much...
Brother. I can't do this. I don't know how.
Want would only hurt him in the end. “I'm sorry,” Twilight said. “But this is all I can give you.” She reached down and gingerly touched the tip of her horn to his. There was a dull spark, and with it went all the feelings, all of the memories, all of the good emotions she could conjure up for him. His eyes tightened in sleep, but otherwise he did not stir. She rose from his side and silently padded to the door.
“Please, don't go.”
Twilight turned around. Her brother's blue eyes were wide awake, burning with the reflection of the flames. They met her own with a quiet desperation.
“Please,” he repeated. “I don't want you to leave too. I lost her, I lost them both, and now I... I don't, I can't...” His mumbling turned slurred and broken, and soon his sight was smeared by the tears he couldn't hold back any longer. “I don't want to be alone.”
Cadence, forgive me. Twilight was beside him again in a heartbeat, holding him close. “No,” she soothed. “Shh, shh, Shine, it's okay, shh, don't worry. I'm here. I'm here.” She drew his head to her breast and ran a hoof through his mane as he shook and sobbed and pleaded. “You're not alone. You're not alone.”
They lay there as the moments stretched on, and eventually he strayed back into an uneasy sleep. Twilight disentangled herself from his embrace long enough to spread a sheet over them both. She folded her hooves beneath herself and curled around him so that his head rested against her side. Her own she lay next to his, brushing the wetness on his cheeks as she nestled as close as she could get. “Neither of us belong here,” she whispered. She laid a downy wing across him, so that it might protect him from whatever should come in the night. For you there's too much pain, and for me, well... I would only add to it.
His tears fell through the night as he slept and woke and slept again, and she gently kissed them away until the dawn.
