Cuori Intrecciati

Philomena woke up. Being the socially conscious bird that she was, she took it upon herself to announce this important event to the world at large, lest some poor soul be unfairly deprived and miss it. Her reward for this public service was a high-velocity pillow aimed perfectly at her head. Were it not for her years of practice, she surely would have been knocked for a loop.

Her gaze snapped to the perpetrator's, golden eyes meeting pink in a vicious glare. Neither dared blink, both refusing to back down even a hair. Anyone else might have faltered, but they were old rivals. Their meeting was fated; their contest… eternal. Or it might have been if Philomena hadn't caught a glimpse of the most striking phoenix ever born in the mirror off to the side.

“Ha!” Celestia cheered. “I saw that!”

Trilling in protest, Philomena stuck her beak high in the air, crossing her wings in front of her breast.

"Do not give me that attitude, Missy. You are the one who can not go past a mirror without preening.”

Philomena cawed twice, spreading her wings wide and shuffling left.

"Philomena!" Celestia gasped, her face flushed and ears drooping. "That… I'll have you know that my 'ass' has been the subject of more odes than you have feathers!"

The croon and flutter that followed transformed Celestia’s hot flush into a cold glower.

"That, little missy, was cruel and uncalled for. If that is how you are going to behave today, you can spend it outside."

Lighting up her horn, she threw open the balcony doors. Philomena protested with caws and trills, but Celestia was having none of it. She met the bird’s ruckus with stoic silence. Her great wing flared to point toward the exit. Philomena continued her tantrum for some seconds but only succeeding in wasting breath and eventually gave up.

With an ear-piercing shriek, the firebird leapt into the air and stormed out of the room with a trail of embers wafting in her wake.

Once she was out of sight, Celestia let out a groan of exasperation. That bird had been getting testier by the decade. Luna's return and the addition of Tiberius to the household had not improved matters either. Perhaps she was just getting old. Not the happiest of thoughts. Then again, maybe she was simply pent up…

It occurred to Celestia that, to her knowledge, Philomena had never taken a mate, much less produced any offspring. At least she'd never mentioned the former, and Celestia was certain she would have noticed the latter. Perhaps a trip to the vet was in order, or a letter to Fluttershy. Yes, that seemed a better place to start.

Regardless, it was a worry for later.

Despite her late night and early wake up call, Celestia was awake now and experience had taught her that further sleep would not be forthcoming.

She started to rise. Her forelegs straightened with ease, causing the covers to slip down her back. Her hindlegs, however, they were less cooperative. The sore muscles ached badly, quaking when she put even the slightest weight on them. For a split second, she wondered if she was getting old, only to recall the real cause of her discomfort and deciding that it was not such an imposition, after all.

Soon enough, she was plodding across the floor toward her bathroom. Once inside, her magic reached out for the shower by rote, only to catch herself. While her normal routine was a model of efficiency, she had a full hour before she was supposed to be waking up. There was no reason to hurry things along, and she hadn’t taken a proper, relaxing bath in what may well have been centuries.

Flipping the little lever, the water dribbled to a stop from the showerhead and started pouring from the lower faucet. A little magic infusing the pipes filled them with heat, bringing the water to temperature almost instantly. As the bath slowly filled, she sorted through her rarely used bath oils and additives, picking out those that were supposed to help relax and refresh sore muscles.

A heady aroma of eucalyptus and chamomile soon filled the bathroom.

One hoof at time, Celestia slipped into the bathtub. The near boiling water drew naught but coos of delight from her lips, eyes closing as she immersed her entire body. She lay there for untold seconds, coasting on the edge of falling back to sleep, breathing deep and letting herself go limp.

Her mind wandered fitfully behind her eyelids, jumping from one random memory or thought to the next, with only the most tenuous connections between them. The heavy fragrance of chamomile played along the edge of her nose and consciousness, summoning forth the myriad of shared late night teas. Faces and voices faded in and out of clarity, from long gone lovers to close friends and worthy foes met at the end of their run.

Of them, her niece stood out the most, with the long discussions they’d shared in politics and procedure just before bed. Or, more often than not, granting her an ear and a smile as she went on and on about the ponies she knew. Celestia had always envied how Cadance could so easily fit into any social group, no matter her title and tiara. When she joined a new group, it was a smooth transition, melding into the established fabric with only the smallest of disturbances. On the other wing, Celestia’s mere presence ripped the tapestry to shreds as it tried to reform around her.

She missed those not so long ago days.

It was disheartening to realize that two years had passed since she’d seen her adopted niece. She did not regret her choice and would make the same every time, but that did not make her happy about it. They had stayed in touch, the occasional letter sent back and forth, but It was far from ideal. What’s more, she could read Cadance’s growing dissatisfaction with the situation between the lines of each new letter. Every time Celestia denied a request for an audience…

Her whole train of thought derailed. Had it really gone so far that she thought of her niece in those terms? Requesting an audience? There had been a time when she’d been all but at her niece's beck and call. She’d regularly sent Kibitz into fits with how she would stop everything when Cadance needed her. And now she was denying… dodging visits?

Celestia rolled over with a frown, her back sinking to the bottom of the tub.

Inhaling deeply, she blew her melancholy out with her breath. There was nothing to be gained by allowing such thoughts occupy her time. When her next breath came, she let the smells and sensations take her, losing herself in the soothing atmosphere of the bath. Heat from the water had seeped into her coat, penetrating to the skin and muscles beneath. She focused on the heady aroma of eucalyptus, letting it cloud her thoughts so she could relax.

Yawning with the whole of her body, she stretched with quivering limbs toward the ceiling, only to let them fall back so her nose was all that broke the surface.

She lounged for as long as she could, waiting for the water to cease steaming before fetching her brush and soap. Once she'd set to cleaning, her lackadaisical mien fell away with previous day’s dirt. Her movements became efficient, scrubbing and washing her coat until it seemed to glow with its own inner light.

Shortly, Celestia drew herself from the tub, letting it drain as she moved to stand before the sink and mirror. She smiled at her reflection, her long white face with wavering bands of pastel mane plastered over one of her bright fuchsia eyes.

She blushed.

Celestia did not think herself narcissistic, not like Philomena, but looking at herself in the mirror now, wet maned and without her regalia, she thought she understood what all those old poets had been on about. Being told that she was beautiful, even being emulated by so many mares, was one thing. To see it for herself, to feel pretty was something else entirely.

Stepping back, she turned so her entire profile was reflected back. A flick of her head threw her mane into the air, the strands briefly hovering behind her, only to fall over the other side of her neck. She giggled at the fillyish behavior.

Not that that stopped her.

She half-opened her wings and admired the curves of her body, the dip and rise from her chest to her stomach. Lifting her chin, she arched her neck just so, accentuating its graceful length. With a slight adjustment, she presented more of her backend to the mirror and lightly stomped a hoof. The jiggling of her rump drew an un-princess like snort from her. She could scarce imagine Luna’s hindquarters making near as much movement, or any at all. Hers was far sleeker, all hard muscle and silky fur.

A long, long time ago, she’d been just as toned and slender as her sister. When that had changed, she wasn’t sure, though it was at some point during Luna’s abeyance. Most likely after the first World Trade Summit, when all those delicious treats from Minos began arriving.

She stared at it a little longer. It wasn’t that she was fat; she wasn’t. How had Luna put it? She was perfectly plush. A little exercise wouldn’t hurt, though. If last night was to be any indication, she could probably do with a bit more endurance. Of course, she didn’t actually want to change her physique, so she’d have to supplement that with a higher caloric intake.

Celestia shook her head, turning to face the mirror head on once more.

Every iota of humor and blush vanished from her muzzle, her gaze becoming completely blank.

With almost imperceptible changes, she practiced every expression, from approval to ire and all the degrees in between. The ability to project exactly what emotion and image she wanted, rather than felt, had not come with the tiara any more than skill at fighting came with holding a spear. Practice and patience were the key to most endeavors. That and the will and vision to see it done.

While her face was occupied, she spread her wings fully, pulling magic into them and starting a small breeze within the bathroom. Once the wind was flowing, she used it to channel the moisture from her coat and feathers and into the sink. Her mane and tail dried some, but would take their own sweet time about it. She learned not to force it and simply bound them with a length of dark-blue silk to keep them tame.

Her teeth and coat, she brushed, allowing herself to take a little longer than normal with the latter. Make-up and scents, she eschewed, save for brushing a thin oil into her feathers. Only one pony would get close enough to notice the lack, and she seemed to enjoy her aroma as it was.

With a bathrobe slipped over her withers, Celestia was all but ready to greet the day.

The door to the outer hall opened at her urging, and she was greeted by three ponies. Two of her guards stood to either side of the door, white coated and gold armoured as always. The third was a dun-coated stallion with a receding mane, a dapper mustache, a pair of pince-nez glasses perched on his muzzle, and a simple red jacket with a white-silk cravat.

She greeted each in turn, gracing them with a warm smile. While Sergeant Torrent retained the statuesque posture expected of the guards, Corporal Calliper did not. His reply was stuttered, and Celestia caught the quick flick of his eyes and blush of his cheeks. It was endearing, in its way. A common theme among the newest guards, she rarely acknowledged it. Most grew out of it after a few years, and remarking on it would only cause embarrassment for all involved.

“I hope you slept well;” Kibitz said as they started toward the Solarium, the guards following behind, “we've got quite the day ahead."

Celestia nodded, keeping her stride to an almost exaggerated slow walk so that they could keep pace without effort. "With the amount of shuffling we did for yesterday, I should think so."

Kibitz produced a thick binder with tabs and notes poking out every which way. "After breakfast you have a meeting with the Teachers' Association in the south hall. I'm a little concerned with the time slot. Last year they went twenty minutes over their allowance, and we've had to give them ten minutes less to fit them in today."

"What do we have after them?"

"A meeting with Duchess Canterberry in the Throne Room regarding her request to acquire land south of the Unicorn Range."

"Hmmm. How much time is set aside for that?"

Kibitz consulted his binder. "Twenty minutes."

Celestia pondered that as they walked single-file down a flight of stairs. "Inform the Baroness that her meeting will start ten minutes later. I doubt I will need any more time with her, and I'll make sure the teachers don't take any more time than absolutely necessary." While Kibitz scribbled notes in the margins, Celestia continued, "Are there any other potential hiccups?"

“No. The rest of the day is fairly standard. You have an hour of open court followed by luncheon with the Weather Bureau in Cloudsdale. I canceled the inspection of the Wonderbolts’ Academy in favor of making an appearance with a school tour group as you requested. After which you have three hours of closed court with a half-hour recess. Ending the day at dinner with Princess Luna.” Kibitz gave a sharp nod at the finality of it, pride shining through his demeanour.

Celestia nodded along with each point, drawing up her own mental calendar of events. “Very good, Kibitz.”

“Gretchen has requested an audi—” Kibitz began, only for Celestia to cut him off, her voice carrying a sharp bite.

"Remind her again that Luna is in charge of the Trade Summit this year, all concerns are to be brought to her attention."

"She claims that it—”

"Inform her that my schedule is filled for the next month. If she is willing to wait that long, tell her that it must not be all that important, and that I do not…” Celestia stopped herself. “No. Better that you use your own discretion, but make it known in no uncertain terms that she will bring her concerns to Luna and Luna alone.”

“As you say.” He shuffled through his binder once more and continued, “The Opera House has asked for your input as to which shows they should put on in the coming year. There is also the budget meeting scheduled for an hour after sunset, but your attendance is not necessary. And you still need to let the mayor of Manehatten know if you are to be expected at their New Year festival or not. Preferably not the day prior like last year.”

“Has the Opera House ever put on ‘Palladium’s Saga?’”

Kibitz was quiet for a few seconds, drawing Celestia’s eye. “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of that one, ma’am.”

“That is not entirely surprising. I would be pleased to see it on their playbill. If they need access to the archives for research, it is granted.” Kibitz’s quill worked as Celestia continued, “As for the mayor, send her my apologies, but I have other plans.”

“You do?” Kibitz asked, his surprise turning to something not unlike dejection. “I do wish you would let me know these things ahead of time, if only so I can ensure the arrangements are—”

“I was not intending to travel anywhere, Kibitz. I have merely decided to spend the evening with my sister, but on second thought, I think it would like to take her out. Prepare a list of suitable restuarants for the evening.”

"On a similar note, Hearth’s Warming is only forty three days away,” he said, quill still working in the margins.

“And you should already know how I will be spending it,” she turned her head to give him a meaningful look, “all day, with no interruptions.”

If Kibitz even noticed her half-glare, he gave no sign. “Of course. How silly of me. Have you already decided which orphanage you would like to visit this year?”

Celestia considered that for a few seconds. "No. I would like to speak with my sister first, as she may wish to join me this year."

Turning one last corner, the Solarium door came into view, and Celestia was not surprised to note the lack of Luna’s guards in the hallway. She was a bit earlier than normal and if Much Hausen was still present when her sister returned to the party…

Celestia allowed herself to grin at the thought. “If there is nothing else that demands my immediate attention…”

“Of course, ma’am.” Kibitz bowed. “I shall see that all is in order.” And with that, he turned, trotting off as the guards took up their posts on either side of the door.

Celestia entered the Solarium as three maids were just finishing setting out the meal. Two of them jumped at her unexpected arrival, all quickly bowing and making haste to finish their tasks before scurrying out the servants’ entrance. She endeavoured not to watch as they worked, feigning an interest in one of the tapestries hung along the wall. Too many times had she seen her servants fumble and falter because she took even the smallest of attentions, some from nothing more than her presence.

Once she was alone, Celestia took her usual seat facing the entrance, poured a cup of tea, and waited. By her third cup, her hoof was tapping the floor in a rapid tattoo. Dawn was almost upon her, and Luna still had not shown.

There was no reason to worry. Chances were that she’d opened a cask of moonshine with the Baron, or even Twilight, and was sleeping it off somewhere. Or she simply went to bed early. That was the most likely. The party had thrown them both off their normal sleep cycles. Now that she thought about it, Luna had been getting up earlier than usual in recent months.

Celestia sighed. She didn't have time to find and wake her before dawn.

Rising, she walked out to the balcony and sat watching the sky. The time ticked by slowly as the Moon encroached on those last few inches without hide nor hair of Luna to be seen.

When it was finally time, Celestia sighed again. It'd been almost three years since she'd last had to put the moon to bed, and doing so now only reminded her of the years before. Somepony had to do it, however. She forced a smirk. If nothing else, she could hold it over Luna's head for at least a month or two.

Closing her eyes, Celestia summoned her magic, letting the lullaby flow from her horn to the shining white orb resting against the horizon. Once it was off to bed, she turned her attention to the Sun, pausing for a second to reorient her frame of mind before calling it to awaken.

Magic suffused her as she lifted the great orb into the sky. The backflow of magic infused her, doing more to awaken her than any amount of tea ever could. She didn't add anything special this morning, letting her magic sing unbound and paint the sky. Some days it was better to let things go as they would.

Pleased with what she'd produced, Celestia spread her wings and leapt into the air. She still had an hour and a half before Kibitz would be expecting her, and she had no intention of starting her workday without spending at least some time with her sister.

A subtle chorus of Luna's magic broke through her balcony doors, confirming that she was inside the moment Celestia landed. Smiling, she knocked on the wooden frame, craning her neck to peek through the glass and around the drapes. There were no good angles, unfortunately, and she saw nothing of the inside.

“Luna?” she called, knocking a second time.

Met with only the steady flow of her sister's magic, Celestia began to wonder what she was up to. The enchantments surrounding the room distorted it enough that all she could do was guess. All she knew for sure was that it was constant but not complex. Between that and Luna's lack of response, she didn't worry that intruding would cause any issue.

The moment she stepped inside, Celestia recognized the magic. Doing so only turned her already tentative smile into a small frown. While there would still be some ponies sleeping, the number was vastly smaller than at night and she had never known Luna to become so engrossed in her work as to miss setting the Moon, much less over the past two years.

Luna lay stretched out on her favorite divan, as Celestia expected, with her eyes closed and ears limp. Still as a statue, she did not twitch or fidget, her chest barely rising with each breath. If she hadn't already been sure, that sealed it for her. She was dream-walking.

Celestia did not bother with stealth, fully expecting her sister to sense her presence and awaken on her own. Her steps slowed the closer she got, the only physical sign of the concern showing in the tilt of her ears and brow. Within hoof's reach, Celestia prodded her shoulder, though at that point, she held no real hope that it would produce any results. Searching her memories, Celestia tried to recall if this had happened before. Vague snippets of their early years, just after receiving their Cutie Marks, were all she could find. Of them, the clearest was little more than a sense of mind-numbing panic followed by a mixture of relief, joy, anger, and more than a little wonder.

When it finally clicked, Celestia's brow only creased further. Luna had forgotten to set up her safe-guards. There was nothing she could do from the outside that would wake her; nothing she was willing to try, at least. Her options were to either wait for her to awaken, or join her in the dream.

For the first time that she could remember, Celestia bit her lip. She did not like either of those. It could be seconds or hours before Luna was finished, and their time together was already so limited. On the other wing, she could not so easily set aside the sense that joining in unannounced would be an invasion of her sister's privacy. Not that Luna hadn’t done the same to her on more than one occasion…

In the end, the oddity of the situation forced her hoof. Getting comfortable on the floor beside her sister, Celestia gathered her magic and touched their horns.

—————————————

Luna stared up at the Moon and stars. They were perfect, each and every one right where they were supposed to be and exactly as bright as they had been that night. It was the only solace she could find. Everything else was wrong. Her dress didn’t fit right, her mane refused to stay pinned up, even the grass beneath her felt wrong in some indefinable way that set her back teeth on edge.

All of that would have been manageable, if it were not for the mare laying beside her. A lavender enigma she desperately wished to call 'friend', but the word caught in her mind, kept just out of reach, a dream too precious to touch, lest it shatter at the slightest disturbance.

The sound of Twilight's voice did not hurt as it had at the start, but neither did it offer any comfort. Her words filled the air, muddled and indistinct. Luna could not recall them verbatim and put no effort into trying. Far more important were the tones and meanings. Those she could readily hear and discern with minimal effort.

She counted off the beats as Twilight questioned Celestia’s approval—the last of many clues she should have picked up on but hadn't. Luna's own voice followed, comforting and reassuring her fri—

Turning to face her, she offered a smile that Twilight accepted as she too turned, and their eyes met. A second, maybe two passed, then Twilight leaned in, only to find Luna's hoof pressed to her muzzle.

“Twilight—”

“I’m sorry!” Twilight shouted, her voice cracking, rivers of tears already falling from her eyes. She pushed away, rolling to her hooves. “I… I should—”

The world faded away.

“Twilight wouldeth not act thusly!" Luna roared at the empty void, stomping a hoof on the nonexistent ground.

Luna stared up at the Moon and stars. They were perfect, each and every one right where they were supposed to be and exactly as bright as they had been that night. It was the only solace she could find.

She turned away to find Twilight already staring across a gulf of grass so vast as render them on opposite sides of Equestria, yet so close that Luna could smell the wine and curry on her breath.

The kiss was stopped once more by Luna's hoof, but this time no words are said. Instead, she offered only a small shake of her head

“Oh,” Twilight said. Her eyes fell and ears drooped. “I understand. I didn’t really think—”

Luna howled through gritted teeth, steam puffing out of her nose with every enraged snort. She stormed around the park, the dream-sprite watching silently.

"Fie! Thou art a pathetic proxy!"

"I'm sorry! I'll try—”

"Be silent!" Luna flicked a wing, and the dream-sprite dissipated.

She stomped a hoof, and the whole world rippled. All around her, ponies appeared, nameless and faceless behind mask and dress. Leaping into the air, Luna hovered high above the party and watched Twilight, her sister, and herself. Her eyes focused on Twilight the most, searching for any sign of attraction she missed the last dozen passes: the lingering glances, the constant failed approaches, the way she almost seemed to ignore Celestia until given no choice, even her dress. It was as though she had been blind all evening.

The night sped by until she was once again walking side-by-side with Twilight, heading away from the last dregs of the party. They walked together, both filling the air with their voices for the… she'd lost count of how many times.

She lay on her back, staring into Twilight's eyes, seeing the affection they held, no longer able to tell if it was true memory or conjured by her own imaginings. Angry, impotent tears fell from her eyes as Twilight leaned in and their lips met.

The intrusion was soft and smooth, a feather tracing along her jaw and down her neck. Her realization was instantaneous, for all the good it did her. She didn't want to look, didn't need to. There was no doubt in her mind who it was, and seeing her would only make it hurt that much more. But she didn't have a choice.

The dream-sprite ceased to exist, and Luna turned her head, coming face-to-face with Celestia. For that tiny slice of eternity before, Luna had imagined Celestia would be angry, with fire in her eyes and mane, screaming at her. Or perhaps she would be upset, a crying, wailing mess. What she got was far worse. Celestia just stood there, staring at her from behind a blank white mask.

The dream shattered.

Luna came to with a gasp, wild eyes darting about her room in search of her sister. A groan drew her gaze toward the floor at her side. She reached out for her, cradling Celestia’s head against her chest. “You were not meant to see that.”

Celestia kicked the divan and sent it scraping across the floor, braking Luna’s desperate hold of her head. Out of reach, all she could do was watch as Celestia rose from the floor, chest heaving and tail lashing. Her entire face was tense, jaw set tight, eyes squeezed shut behind a creased brow and scrunched muzzle, and ears quivering.

Then it all disappeared behind her stoic mask.

It was like she’d been replaced by a porcelain automaton. All the tiny twitches of life were gone. Every movement she made was mechanically, controlled so tightly as to seem almost unreal. Luna had seen her hide her emotions before, but this was different, a level of control she would not have thought possible. And it frightened her.

Head held with perfect poise, Celestia settled down and turned to face her. A flash of gold preceded the appearance of a silver tea service in the space between them, and, without a word, Celestia began heating the pot and preparing the twisted, black tea leaves.

Luna bit her tongue as she watched her sister work with exacting precision. She could scarcely imagine the thoughts that must have been running through her sister’s mind: anger, betrayal… hurt. Blinking away the moisture in her eyes, she couldn't stop herself from trying to speak, to say anything that might off even a modicum of comfort.

Celestia could. A single, piercing glance nailed Luna's lips sealed before she'd even managed a peep.

Thoroughly chastised, she bowed her head, staring at her hooves and rubbing them together anxiously. Try as she might, she couldn't focus her thoughts. They kept swinging back toward Celestia, to what she'd seen, how she must have interpreted it, and just how much she'd ruined…

"Luna?"

She looked up to find Celestia watching her, emotions still carefully concealed. Or so Celestia would like to think. Even she had tells, as infinitesimal as they might be. The worst was the angle of her eyes, just off center, not really able to meet Luna's own. Why couldn't she just be angry? Luna could deal with anger.

A cup of dark tea waited at the edge of the service for her. Reaching out with her magic, she brought it to her lips and sipped, tasting none of it.

"I think I would like to hear an explanation for why you were kissing Twi—"

"I did not!" The outburst earned her what was intended to be a stern glare, but Celestia still could not find her eyes. "I… 'Twas she who kissed me."

"I hardly see the difference—”

"After the party."

Celestia fell quiet with a tiny, "Oh."

Luna could almost see the gears in Celestia's mind turning as she sipped her tea, fitting everything together into a tapestry of events. That was encouraging, or so Luna hoped. It meant she was listening to and weighing Luna's words. She trusted in their love. They would make it through, but that offered little comfort as she stared into the abyss of a world apart.

"And you thought to re-live it, because?" Celestia asked, trailing off at the end expectantly.

Luna shrunk deeper into her shoulders.

With no answer forthcoming, Celestia nodded once, and when she spoke, even she could not keep the hurt from maker her voice tremble. "I see."

"No!" The cup fell from Luna's grasp, shattering across the floor in a shower of hot tea and porcelain. "I rejected her!" She stepped off the divan, ignoring the liquid and shards beneath her hooves. "On mother’s grave, I swear it! I do not… I love you, Tia, and all the world can burn so long as I have you!”

Tears dribbled down Luna's cheeks as she stared at her love, silently pleading that she believe her. Celestia's mask, already starting to fracture, broke, a truly wretched expression twisting her muzzle. Her voice came out weak, a strained whisper like a cord just before it snaps, "Then why…"

"I do not know!" Luna cried as she bumped against the service, the only physical barrier keeping them apart. "I did not know what else to do. I… I broke her heart, Tia. She fled in tears because I could not…" Luna's vision blurred, replaced entirely by the image of Twilight's lost and dejected expression the moment before she disappeared. "How do you tell your best friend that you cannot love them?"

She did not see the tea service disappear, nor her sister step in to replace it. All she felt were the strong legs wrap around her head, clutching her close as a pair of lips graced her forehead. Celestia’s soft voice filled her ears with whispered apologies and professions of love. Her tears soaked into the hem of her sister's robe as she muttered incoherent and incomplete thoughts into her shoulder. The shame at having broken so completely only added to her distress.

In the fullness of time, her tears dried, sobs slowing until they were only the most recent of memories she'd rather forget. Celestia continued to hold her tight as though she could somehow shield her from the anguish of her own heart. As ineffective as the gesture was, Luna only loved her all the more for it.

"I am sorry," Luna said once she found her voice.

Celestia squeezed her just a little tighter. "There is nothing to be sorry for, my love."

"Yes there is! I hurt you! I—"

"No, I hurt myself. I assumed the worst and let my fears replace my trust in you." Luna started to protest, but Celestia stopped her by adding, "But if you must hear the words; I forgive you."

While it did not make her feel whole, hearing those words went a long way to soothe her. Smiling—small though it was— for the first time in what felt like days, Luna nuzzled into her sister's shoulder.

"I should have known," Celestia said, almost more to herself than Luna. "I should have picked up on it weeks ago. I saw the way she looked at you, but it never occurred to me… Is she truly old enough? I can barely see past the little filly more interested in studying than friends, much less romance."

"Verily. Twilight Sparkle is a grown mare and has been since I have known her. Though I was no less surprised by her actions."

Celestia shook her head and frowned, her bemused expression laying bare the thoughts that occupied her mind. In the comforting silence, Luna could no longer ignore the final worry that weighed on her heart. There would be no avoiding or hiding it. The only question was when and how, and after what had just occurred, she could not stomach the thought of it coming from any source but herself. That did not make admitting her mistake any easier.

“Tia…” she started, drawing an inquisitive hum from her sister. Unable to find the right words, Luna took a deep breath and, as quick as possible, said, “I told her I was spoken for.”

Luna braced herself against her sister’s chest, tightening her grip in preparation to be reprimanded for erring so grievously.

“That is unfortunate,” Celestia said, the last word spoken with a degree of uncertainty, as though she disliked its taste.

“Unfortunate?”

“Yes,” she said, pushing Luna far enough away that their eyes could meet. “It will complicate matters, but I do not think Twilight will rush to assume we are lovers.” A confused twist of amusement and distaste took her features. “It may be advisable for you to cultivate a few close, personal friendships, however. Inviting the Baron Hausen for private luncheons and—”

“Tia! You cannot be serious.”

“I do not like it either, but—”

“No. I will not do it.”

Celestia seemed about to argue, only to sigh. “No. You are right. I will figure something else out.”

Luna leaned in once more, and Celestia reciprocated, hooking her chin to rest on the back of her neck. She squeaked, wincing at the spike of unexpected pain.

“Luna?” Celestia asked, pulling back. Before Luna could do anything, Celestia had her head turned to the side, pushing back her mane. "Stars! Oh, stars, Luna! I am so sorry. I did not mean to—I can fix this.”

Celestia’s horn started to glow, but Luna was faster. The pillow shot from across the room, hammering the side of her face with its plush padding. “No! Bad Tia!” Celestia blinked, staring at her: dumbfounded. “You would take away a gift so soon after granting it?”

“But… It… What?”

Luna very nearly giggled at her sister’s loss for words. Stretching her neck, she nuzzled Celestia’s cheek. “Were it within my power, I would mark it permanent. A reminder of my sister’s wild passion.”

She didn’t seem to catch Luna’s playful tone. “Does it not hurt?”

“A bit,” Luna said with a huff, rolling her eyes. “Honestly, Tia, ‘tis naught but a love bite. Have I not gifted you so?”

“Well, no.”

“Ah, then I shall endeavour to make amends.”

Luna pressed her nose to Celestia’s neck and was just about to open her mouth when she felt a hoof pressing her back. She relented, until she could once more see her sister’s face. “You just struck me with a pillow.”

She noticed the golden glow a second too late.

—————————————

Celestia had been asked many times, mostly by her students, why she bothered with the phaeton instead of flying everywhere herself. Her answer was always the same, tasking them to write an essay on the difficulty of walking while writing a paper… while walking. The truth was unsurprisingly a little more complicated. As the… a Princess of Equestria, there were expectations placed upon her by not only her own subjects, but the world’s other rulers. The illusion of power and authority was often just as important as the actual possession of it. As such, minor inconveniences like phaetons, parades, galas, guard escorts, and living in a castle all served to keep harmony in and around Equestria.

The flight to Ponyville may not have been a long one, but she’d already sent Kibitz into a panic and falling further behind was simply not an option. She was going to be playing catch-up and penning apologies for days as it was. It was unfortunate, then, that she was entirely unable to focus on any of her work.

She considered herself both realistic and well composed, able to keep focused during the most dire of situations by zeroing in on what could be done and what needed to be done. There was no use in worrying over what could not be changed until it could be. Twilight’s thoughts and actions were outside of Celestia’s control at the moment, and that meant she should not be focused upon them. They were a future problem that she would deal with in due time, and until that time, she had other tasks that required her attention.

All of that well rationed reasoning amounted to exactly nil as the royal phaeton carried her to Ponyville.

It was never going to be easy to tell them: Twilight and Cadance. They had planned to, eventually, when they could orchestrate events to soften the reveal and, if at all possible, not drive them away in disgust. Cadance had always been the one she’d worried about the most while holding onto the hope that her connection to Love would carry her through. Twilight was supposed to be the easy one. A slow, gradual transition where they became more and more friendly in her presence, and potentially avoiding ever having to say anything outright. Now? Now she feared it would never be possible.

'Sparkle Tower' had been within sight from the moment she took to the air, steadily growing from a bright spike to its full shining glory. The building was nice, beautiful even. In the Crystal Empire, it would have fit in splendidly. Unfortunately, in Ponyville, it stuck out like a lone tree in the middle of a field.

As tall as any spire in Canterlot, the massive trunk supported a decently sized keep where Twilight now resided. To Celestia's understanding, the trunk itself served as public space, half-library half-throne room. The upper levels were where Twilight lived, along with her small cadre of staff.

It was there, at the balcony courtyard beside the keep, that the charioteers aimed to land. The lack of Twilight's presence waiting for her was not unexpected, but neither did it bode well for her visit. Her worries only redoubled when a far too small purple and green shape rushed out of the doors. Even from that distance she could read the distress in Spike's constant movement.

Celestia carefully packed up her nearly untouched work, storing it in a small chest beneath her seat, and checked her expression. This was a truly delicate situation, and there was too much at stake for her to risk giving something away.

The phaeton touched down lightly, rolling to a stop a few lengths away from the agitated dragon. She did not even have time to step down before Spike was running up to greet her.

"Princess! I'm so glad you’re here!" He shouted, completely forgetting any show of deference or adherence to protocol. "We think she is in her room, but she hasn't made a sound, and I didn't even know she’d came back until Rarity showed up! She's been in there alone for hours, and we can't get her to open the door, or even make a sound to let us know she's alright! What if—"

Celestia touched his snout with a hoof, halting the string of words flowing from his mouth, and put on her motherly smile. "Be at peace, Spike. The situation is not so dire as to prompt idle speculation. "

Spike seemed to calm, and Celestia let her hoof drop.

"What's wrong with her?"

Celestia let her smile slip a bit, becoming just a little sad. "She has had her heart broken."

Spike’s brow furrowed, then his eye lit up, only to fall to his feet. "Oh." He squeezed his claws for a second before adding, "Will… will she be alright?"

Celestia studied the little dragon, eyeing his posture and body language. It was difficult to tell, lacking the ears of a pony, but she was almost certain that his concern had shifted. "Eventually, yes. I imagine she is in a dark and lonely place right now, but, as with most things, it will pass. She will remember that love is not so simple a concept as to be limited to romance. Though it would not be remiss for her friends and family to remind her of it."

Stepping forward, Celestia started walking toward the entrance, scooping a wing behind the young drake to keep him at her side.

"Are you sure?" he asked, claws still twisting together. "I don't know what I would do if I that happened to me."

Celestia looked down at him with one eye, making sure she wore the warmest smile she had. "Oh, you would manage well enough, I think. There would be tears—” Spike made a face as though he was about to interrupt, but Celestia headed him off, “or perhaps not. You would mourn, however, for the loss of the ‘could have hads’ and ‘might have beens.’ It haunts most of us for a time, but you are not so unlike Twilight. You have friends and loved ones who would be there to care for you. In time you would recover fully, able to look back with clear thoughts, and, perhaps one day, you might even wonder what it was that caused you so much pain."

Spike chewed on that as they stepped inside. "I don't know…"

Pushing a bit of warmth into the feathers still gracing his back, Celestia continued, "Trust me. You have such a life ahead of you, that the greatest tragedy would not be the loss of a love,” Celestia looked away, pretending to glance down the corridors, “but to allow that loss to define you. Now, which way is Twilight's room?"

He did not look convinced, but the pensive set of his features was a good sign. Taking a few steps ahead to lead the way, he said, “This way.”

Two turns later and they were greeted by the sight of a disheveled Rarity sitting with her back against a door with Twilight’s cutie mark etched into the surface. Celestia was a little surprised to see her still wearing the same dress from last night, though her mask was nowhere to be seen. She immediately jumped to her hooves at Celestia’s approach, falling into a quick bow.

"Your Highness!"

With a wave of her hoof, Celestia motioned her to rise. "I do not think we need observe such formalities at a time like this. Spike tells me she has not made any response?"

"No," Rarity confirmed, rising up and turning her gaze to the door. "I honestly can not be certain that she is even in there. Though with how the door is sealed, she must be."

Celestia nodded absently, feeling out the magic surrounding and holding the door secure. The spell was vaguely similar to the one she'd used on Luna and her own bedchambers. Sound could go in, but nothing would escape unless a unicorn with the proper key desired it to.

"I appreciate your dedication to Twilight, but I am here now, and I am certain you could use a few hours rest."

Much to Celestia's surprise, Rarity did not make to leave. "This is about Princess Luna, is it not?"

Celestia did not answer right away, instead studying the mare before her. She'd not spent much time with Twilight's friends, but she felt she knew them all exceedingly well from Twilight's letters. While she didn't doubt that Rarity would eventually learn everything from Twilight, none of it was truly hers to give.

"She rejected her, didn't she?" Rarity continued. Celestia nodded once, keeping her expression neutral. "I hope she realizes just how wonderful a mare she has turned her back on."

Celestia’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, enough that she was certain Rarity would notice. With a turn of her ears and a shift of her shoulders, Celestia drew Rarity’s gaze to Spike still standing at her side.

"I would expect you, of all Twilight's friends, to best understand the position my sister found herself in last night and to be able to provide at least a modicum of sympathy. I can assure you that no pony is happy with how this has played out, Luna least of all." Rarity’s cheeks flushed, falling back a step and dropping her gaze, but Celestia was not finished. "If that is all, I have a second loved one to console this morning and, if at all possible, a friendship to repair."

"Of—of course, Your Highness. I can see that it has been a long night for everypony." Rarity bowed again before hurrying down the corridor.

“Wait, Rarity!” Spike called, only to find Celestia’s wing blocking his path.

“Spike, would you mind seeing that a pot of tea is brought up in about fifteen minutes? Chamomile would be best if you have it.”

"Oh. Of course, Princess. I'll get right on it."

Retracting her wing, Celestia watched him scamper after Rarity. Once she was alone, she sighed, stroking her temple with a wing. She'd been too short with her. It was completely reasonable, even admirable, for her to jump to Twilight's defense the way she had. If it hadn't been Luna on the other side, Celestia wasn't positive she'd have acted any different.

She'd have to make it up to her at some point, but for now there were more important issues to deal with.

Stepping up to the door, Celestia knocked three times before speaking. "Twilight? Would you mind opening the door?" After a few seconds with no response, she knocked again. "Twilight, I know you can hear me. I would much prefer to speak with you face-to-face."

She was almost surprised when the door's spell fizzled and audibly unlatched.

Leading with her nose, Celestia nudged her way into Twilight’s room. Though she'd never been in there before, there was little doubt as to the room's occupant. It was spacious, more so even than her own room. All the furniture was crystal, with thick padding covering anything meant for comfort. One entire corner of the room was dedicated to alchemy, three long tables covered in glassware and all manner of ingredients. Opened and unopened boxes were stuffed into another corner, no doubt the last few things that had been shipped from her parents and her own palace. What stood out the most to Celestia were the built-in bookshelves that took up more than a third of the wall space and just how empty they were. The bed was a luxurious four poster with drapes tied back, more than large enough for four adults to share with room to spare. Twilight’s horn was clearly visible on the other side, poking up like a purple mountain behind a rolling landscape of sheets.

Celestia took her time examining the room, letting her eyes wander as she walked in. Not a word was spoken until she noticed the only painting that was not of her family or friends. Mounted above the fireplace, it was a beautiful watercolor of Ponyville at dawn.

“That really is a beautiful frame. I am glad to see that you found a more suitable painting for it.”

Twilight let out a sound that was caught somewhere between a laugh, a sob, and a hiccup. Celestia allowed herself a modicum of joy at the noise, taking it as a sign that Twilight was not nearly as bad off as she could have been.

That feeling only lasted until she rounded the bed and laid eyes on Twilight. She was a mess. Her mane was frayed and face haggard with bags just starting to form under her eyes. Little of her makeup had survived, and what had was smudged across her face. Puffy, red—but dry—eyes glanced at Celestia for only a second before returning to the spread of magazines at her hooves.

To the untrained eye, the floor would have looked like little more than a collage without order, torn and cut pages littering the ground amid the glossy magazines they came from. For Celestia, however, all was plain. Each article was ordered by reliability and date, while the magazines had the added variable of read or unread. She was not surprised in the slightest, but neither was she comforted. With care to preserve Twilight’s organization, Celestia moved the detritus away from her side, clearing a space for herself.

“Who is it?”

Celestia settled down, unphased by the question or the shortness with which it was asked. Once she was comfortable, she said, “That is not for me to say.”

The muscles of Twilight’s jaw bulged, eyes blinking a few times in rapid succession. “You can’t? Or you won’t?”

“That is an irrelevant question.”

Twilight harumphed as she scanned another article, tearing it from the magazine and setting it among the rest. Celestia allowed the silence to continue, watching her former student work. She was not used to being at a loss for words. Then again, she’d never been in a situation quite like this before. It occurred to her that she was perhaps the least appropriate pony to comfort Twilight, but even more than the social necessity of her presences, Celestia wanted to be there for her. But her position was compromised. She could not be honest with her, not truly so. Nor could she side with her, not against Luna. There would be no offers to assist in anyway she was able. All she could offer was comfort and understanding. It was something, but far less than either of them would like.

With great care, Celestia opened her wing, letting it hover above and behind Twilight. Slowly, the smaller alicorn leaned closer, bit-by-bit, until her center of balance shifted and the side of her muzzle thumped into Celestia’s chest. The moment they touched, the wing came down, wrapping tightly around the purple form and flooding her with warmth. With her distraction broken, the tears came again, accompanied by silent sobs and the occasional hiccup. Celestia simply held her, craning her neck to nuzzle the crown of her head and coo softly in her ears.

She did not count the seconds as they passed, but by the time Spike arrived with the tea, Twilight had fallen into a fitful sleep against Celestia’s side.

She roused easily, if slowly, uncomplaining as she was moved to the tea table. Spike didn’t linger, slipping out the door and leaving them in peace. The next few minutes continued in silence as the tea was steeped and served. Even then, neither spoke, Celestia sipping quietly while Twilight simply stared at her cup. It could not last forever.

“Why?”

Celestia set her cup down, waiting for Twilight to lift her gaze before answering. “Luna and I have learned to hoard privacy as dragons hoard their treasure. You have been fortunate thus far, but a time will come when your every move is watched by a thousand pairs of eyes as well, and you will learn to cherish the quiet moments as we do.”

"But we were friends!” Twilight’s eyes snapped to hers, burning for a briefly before they fell once more, her voice dropping. “We talked about everything… at least I thought we did…”

"Did you ever ask her?"

"I… No,” Twilight shook her head, sniffling. “It never came up.” After a few seconds of silence, she added, “I just… I thought…”

Twilight trailed off, unable to put her feelings into words. Celestia did not need her to. Spreading her wing, she stretched it over the table and touched a primary under her former student’s chin. The smallest of pressure brought her head up, allowing their eyes to meet.

“Luna cares for you. You are her closest, dearest friend, and she is worried that she might have lost you.”

Twilight’s head fell again, but she did not respond.

Celestia didn’t push the subject, confident that Twilight would find peace in her own time. Instead, she started talking, moving toward less emotional topics. Soon, Twilight was talking back, and, though the dark cloud never quite left, it did fade a little.

As much as she would otherwise, Celestia could not stay forever and let her eyes travel up to the ceiling, toward the Sun through the ceiling. The gesture was an old habit, similar in use as glancing at a clock. “I apologize, Twilight, but—”

“You have to go,” she finished. “Thank you for coming.”

Celestia stood, stepping around the table and pulling her into a hug. “Take care of yourself, Twilight. Spend time with your friends, allow them to be there for you as you would wish to be there for them.” Pulling back, she motioned toward the mess of magazines. “Do not let yourself obsess over this. It will only prolong the pain. But for now, get some sleep.”

“I…” Twilight started, but hesitated, her eyes drifting. “I will try.”

Accepting that as all she could expect, Celestia hugged her again and kissed the top of her head before making her final goodbyes.

—————————————

Twilight watched Princess Celestia shrink into the distance from her window. Only when she was too far away to see did Twilight look away, her eyes returning to her research. Everywhere, images of Luna stuck out, pictures and drawings of her attending various functions and events, holding court and speaking with nobles. Seeing her image, it only served to remind her of just how close she had been, and how far away she was now.

Maybe the Princess was right. Knowing who it was wouldn’t make it any easier.

Tearing her eyes away, Twilight climbed into her bed and picked up the last book she’d been reading. She read a single paragraph before her eyes shifted back to the magazines.

She’d been at it for hours, since the moment she returned from Canterlot… mostly. In that time, she’d found nothing. Her list of possibilities had shrunk, but none stood out. Fancy Pants remained at the top of the list, but she didn’t believe that for a moment. Everything she knew about him and Fleur told her that it wasn’t even worth considering. The only other real choices were her assistant, Soft Whisper, or one of her personal guards. While either of those explained the reason she wished to keep it a secret, she could not accept them. The impropriety of bedding a direct subordinate bordered on illegal, much less immoral.

It would be so much easier with a copy of Luna’s schedule for the past few months. With that, she would have a list of everypony Luna spent time with and be able to draw up a real list of suspects.

And there had to be somepony. There had to be. Both princesses had told her so.