The bunsen burner flared to life, its teardrop flame perfect and steady, waiting patiently to be put to use. It would continue to do so for a few more seconds as Twilight finished grinding up the malachite and added it to the mixture. A quick stir with the glass rod was punctuated by a quill checking off another step before she set the alembic in place over the flame.

Starting the apple-shaped egg timer, Twilight turned her attention to the instruction book, reading over the rest of the steps for the hundredth time and checking them against her check list. Then she did it again, and once more, repeating the process until the timer hit zero and filled the air with its persistent chimes.

She tapped the stem with her hoof, silencing the bell, and turned her attention back to the alembic. Steam rose from the deep purple liquid, expanding into the twisty tube of the condenser before finally dripping down into a pre-staged beaker. It only took a minute before enough had been gathered to make out the light green color.

Satisfied that everything was going as expected, Twilight smiled and gave a firm nod. All she had to do now was wait. It would be nearly half an hour before the distillation was complete.

"Oh Celestia! Yesss!"

Then again, waiting was over-rated.

A lavender aura swept over Twilight’s horn and an identical glow formed around the flame, funneling every calorie of energy straight up into the alembic.

In seconds, the black dot that had long been charred into the glass bottom began to grow. Inside, the purple mixture boiled, bubbles popping and spraying high up into the glass neck. Before she knew what was happening, a high-pitched whistle spit from the condenser, a death knell released moments before the alembic cracked, spilling its contents all over her desk and snuffing out the bunsen burner.

Twilight stared at the mess, purple liquid dripping to the floor amid shards of broken glass. She was a statue, locked in place, uncomprehending of what was laid before her, incapable of fixing anything. Useless, that's what she was, completely useless. Even a simple alchemical test pulled straight from a third-year text book was beyond her.

A whiff of sulphur crinkled her nose.

“Horseapples!”

She jolted around, quickly finding the valve and cutting off the flow of gas.

Groaning, she dropped to her haunches. That should have been her first thought, immediate and instinctual. Leaving the gas on was a rookie mistake she hadn’t made in years. Celestia would be so—Oh Cele—

The mess! It needed cleaning. Proper cleaning. No reason to be sloppy about it and risk reactive chemicals mixing in the trash. Separate the glass to prevent leaks in the bags. Soak up the rest with towels and seal them in a marked plastic bag.

Fifteen minutes later, Twilight stepped back to inspect her work. Other than the absences of an alembic, everything was once again as it should be. Which reminded her to make a note to order a replacement.

"Oh Celestia! Yesss!"

She whimpered, ears twisting every which way and eyes darting in search for something to do. The books on hoof didn't interest her. None of them were new to her, read multiple times and no longer able to occupy her attentions. The library, that's where she needed to go. There were plenty of newly arrived books on the shelves, and one of them had to be interesting or exciting, anything to keep from thinking about—

No! Reading wasn't enough. It left her mind too free to wander, to slide back to—No, no, no! She needed something engaging, something that kept her occupied on every level. Practicing new magic had worked, for a time. But with each and every spell came memories of when she learned the basics, of her time at the School, of her lessons with—

Twilight growled, squeezing her eyes tight enough that tears seeped out. Pressing her ears against her head did nothing to silence that voice, Luna’s voice. There was no more ambiguity about it, not for her, not after echoing between her ears so many times. She wasn’t certain that it had been her in the maze, for all that it mattered; Luna’s voice was all she could hear anymore. No amount of argument to the contrary, pointing out how many other ponies it could have been, that she knew other couples had followed their lead, made the slightest difference. The soft moan that followed was definitely something she’d added after the fact but was a no less permanent fixture now.

Knuckles knocked against the crystal door. "Open up, Twi! It's lunch time."

Twilight’s eyes popped, her ears and head zig-zagging around the room in a rush. Everything was put away, every book on its shelf, every scrap of paper in the trash or squirreled away were it couldn't be seen. Spike could not be given even a hint of what she suspected—knew—not yet; not until she decided… until she… She pushed the thoughts away for later, when her mind was clear and she could think properly.

Unable to delay any longer without raising suspicion, she scrubbed her cheeks dry and flipped the latch. Spike pushed his way inside, backing through the doorway with a covered tray carried between his hands. He made a slow, deliberate turn in a poorly executed attempt to sneakily take in the state of her room. A small smile peeked around the corner of Twilight’s lips, a tiny pulse of comfort coming from the reminder that she could always rely on Spike to watch over her.

“Perfect timing, Spike!” Twilight said in a rush, immediately cringing away from the suspicious arch of Spike’s eyebrow. Quickly sitting herself at the coffee table, Twilight continued in a calmer, more controlled voice, “I just finished…” her eyes drifted toward the alchemy set of their own accord before she could lock them back on Spike, hoping he hadn’t noticed, “a… a chapter and a break for lunch is just what I needed.”

“Right,” Spike said, drawing out the syllables in a sure sign of disbelief. Widening her smile probably wasn’t the best reaction. Thankfully, he didn’t say any more as he joined her at the table and removed the lid, revealing a pair of wraps and condiments with no mistaking which was who’s, and a pair of juice boxes to wash it all down.

Neither spoke as they set into their meals, Twilight dribbling a bit of dressing in between bites of her hay and vegetable wrap while Spike sprinkled finely ground quartz on his own. She should have been able to giggle at Spike’s fumbling, struggling to keep his wrap from falling apart between his claws, but all she could think about was them.

Princess Celestia and… and anypony. No, it hadn’t escaped her knowledge that the Princess had been in relationships, married once or twice. But… but the idea of Princess Celestia as sexual, of having those urges, those parts… A shiver ran down her spine. That her brain kept trying to conjure up an image of what she looked like under her tail wasn’t helping either. Neither was the way Spike was staring at her.

Why was he looking at her like that and why did her face hurt and why was her her seat wet?

The odd snapping sound Spike made with his claws broke Twilight’s train of thought and yanked her back down to earth.

“You’re dripping.” Following his pointing claw, Twilight groaned as the last drops of dressing dripped off the table and onto her hindlegs. “So,” Spike began while Twilight procured a napkin and tried to clean herself up, “do you want to talk about it?”

She froze, eyes rising to his. “Talk?” she asked, voice just barely kept from trembling. He didn’t know, couldn’t know. The idea was silly, no pony but her could know, if they did… “Talk about what?”

Setting the half-finished wrap back to the tray, Spike wrung his claws. “I know you don’t think I’ll understand, that I’m not old enough yet, but… Maybe you’re right, but I am old enough to know that it’s not good to keep your feelings locked up.” He fell silent for a second, one hand moving to rub his other arm. “I know a little about what you’re going through, I think, so… so maybe I can help? I mean, you were there for me after Rarity… and I… I just want you to know that,” his head rose, a smile on his lips, a forced and uncertain smile, but a smile nonetheless, “I’m here for you too.”

Twilight returned a genuine smile of her one, one born of relief more than gratitude, but a genuine smile nonetheless. “Thank you, but… but I’m fine.”

The lie tasted bitter like luke-warm, day old coffee. She was not ‘fine’, doubted she’d ever be fine again. It wasn’t like the only pony she’d ever truly connected with was in an incestuous relationship with her idol or anything! It wasn’t like she couldn’t think of either of them without—"Oh Celestia! Yesss!"—getting in the way.

Before Spike could call out her lie, a bloom of green fire sprouted from his mouth, accompanied by an unappetizing burp.

Twilight’s eyes followed the gold-sealed scroll, watching it hover between them for a fraction of a second before falling onto the tray. She stared at it, failing miserably to will it out of existence, to roll back time and stop it from appearing. Spike said something as he reached for it, his words lost amid the silent cacophony of ‘No!’s drowning out everything else in Twilight’s head. She could do nothing but watch as he broke the seal.

My Dearest Twilight,

I apologize for my brevity here, but as I write this, I do not have the time for pleasantries. I regret that this is not simply a social call; we have had far too few chances to even speak in recent months. There are, however, topics that we must discuss. I understand that you are no less busy than myself and making time to come to Canterlot may prove difficult, but the sooner we speak the better.

I can have a chariot sent whenever you are ready to leave.

Your Friend,

Celestia

Spike’s voice took a questioning turn as he finished the letter, flipping it over as though he expected there to be more written on the back. “That’s weird. Uhm… Twilight?”

"Fine!"

The word shot out from her stored vocabulary of meaningless assurances. She didn't honestly hear herself, letting some partition of her subconscious take over in lieu of actually trying to process the message.

"I'm fine. Everything's fine."

Which was silly when she thought about it. She'd already processed it, after all. Every word had been heard, stored, and decoded into their individual meanings. It was almost magical, how she kept from taking the next mental step… while still knowing where it would lead.

"Why wouldn't I be fine? Princess Celestia wants to see me. That's great, wonderful even. I love going to see the Princess."

Cognitive dissonances, that's what it was called. She'd never truly understood what it meant until now. Oh, she could define it and explain the concept, but to experience it first hoof, that was the thing. To know a thing to be true with complete confidence, and still act as though it had never even crossed her mind; friendship had nothing on cognitive dissonance.

"Take a letter, Spike."

"Oooookay. Just let me get a quill and—"

"Dear Princess Celestia, I’ll let you know. Your Faithful Student, Twilight Sparkle."

"Uhm… Twi?"

Princess Celestia wouldn't accept that, of course, but it should buy her time. Time was the thing. With enough time there was nothing she couldn't do, no problem she couldn't solve. But first she needed to define the problem. She couldn't very well create a solution if she didn't have a well defined problem, now could she? Right? Right. So, the problem was… the problem was… was that—"Oh Celestia! Yesss!"

She couldn’t think about it, didn’t want to think about it anymore than she wanted to think about her parents or Shiny and Cadance. Especially Shiny.

That she could be wrong, that it could all be nothing more than a disturbing trick of the mind triggered by Aloe and Lotus did not provide any comfort. While all her evidence was circumstantial, based entirely on the lack of any evidence to support any other theory, there was just so much of it and—"Oh Celestia! Yesss!"—WAS NOT HELPING!

She was supposed to be perfect, perfection in equine form. The ideal, the idol that everypony could look up to and strive to emulate. Even her mistakes and failures only served to provide everypony with an example of how to endure and overcome. Yet, she was having sex with…

Luna…

It wasn't right! It—

"Twilight!" Twilight's pacing came to a sudden halt, mostly because she'd run nose first into Spikes outstretched palm. "Get a hold of yourself."

"No, Spike! I can't go to Canterlot."

"Yeah, yeah, surprise test. Blah blah blah. Unexpected assignment. Yadda yadda yadda. Come on, Twilight, I thought you were over this. This is Princess Celestia. Whatever she wants, it won't be anything bad."

"No no no. You don't understand. She…” Twilight's tongue stopped as she floundered in searching for how she could make Spike understand without actually telling him anything. It wasn't like he'd believe her anyway. No pony would. If somepony had told her that the Princesses were having an incestuous affair, she would've had them committed. The mere idea was completely crazy.

Spike gripped her muzzle, pulling her head level with his and forcing their eyes to meet. In a voice far too serious and mature for a dragon his age, he said, "Maybe you're right. I don't know what you're going through right now, but I can imagine pretty well." His eyes began to water. "But even if it's the absolute worst, your friends will all still be there for you. Even if she doesn't want to be… to be with you, she…she'll still be your fri—friend." He stopped, taking a deep, shuddering breath. "And that's pretty good too. I know it'll hurt sometimes, but that's better than hiding from everyone you care about just to avoid her. And there will be some pretty good times too."

Twilight pulled him into a hug; she didn't know what else to do. He, in turn, buried his face in her shoulder, never quite breaking into full blown tears. Everything he'd said would have been wonderful to hear even a few days ago, but held not the slightest relevance to her current dilemma. Spike was doing his best based on the outdated information he had, and it warmed her heart, but that was as far as it went.

She patted his back, murmuring comfort and shushes and groping for a way to get out of the whole situation. Everything she'd ever read told her that, after a speech like that, she should have had some revelation, the final piece falling into place and showing her the way forward. Instead, all she had was a teary-eyed dragon who would probably be devastated if that exact thing didn't happen.

By the time Spike had recovered enough to pull away, Twilight still had nothing but the painfully fake smile of confidence and reassurance that she'd plastered across her muzzle. Thank the stars he didn't seem to notice. His own smile was far more genuine despite the sniffling and nose wiping.

"You're right, Spike," she said, panicking silently in her head as the words tumbled out all on their own. "Princess Celestia needs me, and that's more important than… than that other stuff…"

Spike nodded, grinning as he stepped toward her desk and picked up a scroll and quill. Putting the tip to paper, he prompted, "Dear Princess Celestia…"

—————————————

Twilight's reply twirled lazily just outside of Celestia's visual range. Even were she not holding it in her magic, she would still have known of its presence by the constant glances it earned from her assembled advisers. They did an admirable job ignoring the distraction, but nopony was perfect. None of them said anything, of course, knowing full well that, if she wanted them to know, she would tell them.

The tiny partition of thought she allowed to ponder the letter made little progress, circling over her plans time and again. It was a good plan. It would work. But it would not be pleasant for any of them.

All the rest of her attentions were focused on the meeting at hoof.

"—cumulus from Cloudsdale and the supplest yew from the northern reaches of Manehatten. Anything less is sure to be taken as an insult."

"I don't argue the necessity of finery, but this…” Lady Jezebelle waved a hoof over the proposal in front of her. “These prices are tantamount to highway robbery."

"Is it or is it not paramount that we begin these accords on the proper hoofing? If you insist on poor quality wood just to pinch a few bits, I'll not be held responsible for the outcome."

Celestia tapped a hoof lightly on the floor, silencing the room and drawing all eyes to herself. She did not look up, instead continuing to study the estimates in front of her. “Speak with the lumberyards again. The volume we are to order constitutes more than they would otherwise sell in a year and should allow for some sort of discount. Also, be sure to mention that the names of our suppliers are certain to come up in conversation during the summit and do not be shy to casually mention their competitors. Let them make of that what they will. When you have an updated estimate, we will readdress the issue.”

Quills scratched and papers ruffled as quick notes were jotted down and everypony turned to the next item. The meeting continued in that form for some time. While Luna would be heading the Trade Summit, Celestia took the lead on making sure the castle was prepared for the influx of foreign dignitaries. Everything from repairs, refurbishments, and even a few additions were discussed, reviewed, and decided. By the end, everypony had a list of tasks to see to before they rejoined two weeks hence.

As her advisers all filed out, Celestia stayed on her throne, waiting until only her and her guards remained before reading Twilight’s letter again. It wouldn’t be long now.

“A-hem.”

Celestia lowered the letter to reveal Strict Regiment, the Captain of the Guard, standing at the base of her throne. Unlike Shining Armour before him, Strict Regiment chose to wear the formal trappings of his office instead of armour. He also lacked his predecessor's affable demeanor, affecting a far more rigid mien. A packet of papers was tucked tight under his wing.

He bowed. “Your Highness.”

“Captain,” she returned, giving a single nod of acknowledgement.

Regiment’s uncertainty was palpable, evident in his slow rise and the unusual twitch of his feathers. Celestia's brow creased with concern. One of the reasons she chosen Regiment over the other candidates to replace Shining was his forthright and stolid demeanor. To see him hesitate did not bode well. Her concern only grew when, instead of speaking, he presented her the documents he carried without a word.

Rather than the disciplinary forms or scout reports she’d expected, they were an assortment of inventory audits, bills, and, most alarming, requests for medical leave. The nature of the documents left her feeling a bit out of her depth, if only because she did not directly deal with such matters. On their own, both the audits and the bills were all but meaningless to her; while the numbers seemed high, she had no ready point of reference. As for the medical leave requests, they were all short term, a few days to a week, minor injuries all too common during training, only noteworthy by the unusually high number.

Letting her weariness show, if only in her voice, she said, “It has been an exceedingly long day, Captain, and I still have much on my plate. If there is some connection here, I am not seeing it.” When he seemed to hesitate, she added, “I do not punish ponies for speaking the truth, whether I like it or not.”

Strict Regiment’s face tightened, seeming to chew on his tongue before finally speaking slowly, choosing his words carefully. “In the past few weeks Princess Luna has grown unpredictable in the sparring circle. Everyday has become a gamble as to what her mood will be. Some days, most perhaps, she is as jovial as before, hard and expectant but forgiving and offering lessons with every defeat. On those other days…” he trailed off, pointing a hoof at the documents. “My stallions have become wary, afraid to enter the ring with her lest they find her in a foul mood.”

Celestia’s mask never wavered, maintaining a concerned and attentive expression throughout. Behind it, she floundered. She’d thought it had only been Cadance, that Luna had been tired and stressed by the unexpected confrontation. If what Regiment said was true—and she had no reason to doubt him—then… she didn’t know.

“Thank you for bringing this to me, Captain. I will speak with her tonight.”

“Your Highness,” he said bowing. With an absent minded nod from Celestia, he took a single step back and turned, trotting toward the great doors with a far lighter gait than when he’d entered.

Anger strained her control, pressing against her millennia old bulwarks. She should not have needed to be told, should have noticed before anypony else. Digging through her memories produced nothing, however. Other than that afternoon's outburst, Luna hadn’t showed any sign that something was bothering her. If anything, she’d been more affectionate than usual.

She’d almost failed her again, would have if not for Strict coming to her. Luna needed her, was crying out for… for something, and she’d never even noticed. A painful yearning to hold her sister close, to hug and kiss her and beg forgiveness, to fix everything, pulled her to rise from her throne and go to her.

The great doors swung open just far enough for the departing captain to slip out. Immediately after his tail disappeared, Celestia stood, groaning as her legs let her know just how long she’d been sitting there. Her wings were no more accommodating, quivering with every inch she pushed them out. Just as she started rolling her neck, the doors opened again, a young guard clanking as he galloped down the long carpet toward the throne.

Celestia snapped to attention, all but freezing until he reached the base of her dais and dropped into a deep bow. Breathing hard, he waited for her grant him permission to speak before saying, “Your Highness, Princess Twilight Sparkle has arrived.”

She turned her head to look out the eastern window, toward the royal apartments and Luna’s room. “Thank you, corporal,” she said almost absentmindedly. “Please see that she is brought to the Solarium.”

He bowed and left with all due haste. Celestia did not watch him go, instead bringing Twilight’s letter around and reading it one last time. Starswirl had been right, problems had a way of multiplying when least expected, more so when most inconvenient. In a rare moment of indulgence, she let herself sigh, taking what momentary pleasure she could from the release before heading off to meet with her former student.

The guards posted outside the Solarium told Celestia that Twilight was already waiting for her. She didn’t pause or hesitate, nodding to the ponies and heading straight inside.

Twilight's back was turned as Celestia entered, pacing toward the far wall. Unnoticed, she watched silently for a moment, both attempting to get a read on Twilight’s state and making sure to enjoy the false sense of normalcy that was sure to be destroyed the instant Twilight turned around. The door proved her right, announcing her presence at its closing. Twilight jolted at the sound, her neck whirling painfully to glance over her shoulder. Still, she smiled, or tried to, the expression crossing Twilight’s lips as weak and uncertain as a smile could be. Offering her own confident grin in exchange, expecting it to ease Twilight's obvious, and not unusual, anxiety, Celestia was more than a little surprised when it failed entirely.

“Princess Celestia!” Twilight tried to exclaim, though it sounded more akin to a gasp of nervous shock than the cry of joy Celestia had always enjoyed. Worse, she made no attempt at eye contact, never glancing above the amethyst in Celestia’s peytral. The two steps she took toward her ended in a shuffling halt between the table and balcony, where Cadance had stood only hours before.

“Twilight,” Celestia said, cramming every iota of warmth and welcome she could into that singular name. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”

Rubbing her knee with a hoof, Twilight continued to hide behind her bangs as she more mumbled than said, “Oh, you know me, always ready to do my part.”

Concern overriding sense, Celestia took a single, quick step toward her former student before she could stop herself. The desire to scoop the younger alicorn into a comforting hug, as though she were still the same little filly who’d snuck into her room after a particularly bad dream, was maddening. Only, she did not wear the brave face and stiff upper lip of a pony trying to hide her pain, nor did she feign excited exuberance to hide her neurotic energy as she had done so many times when she was out of her depth but too terrified of disappointing Celestia to admit it. Whatever was wrong with her, it went beyond Celestia’s experience. All she knew for certain was that everything she’d learned from Cadance and Rarity was gravely mistaken.

Though Luna’s unrequited love might still sting her heart, it was not the core of her tribulation.

But her single step drove Twilight back an equal distance, pinning Celestia in place like a lance had driven straight through her heart. She rallied, pushing her own grief aside to be dealt with later.

She needed more to go on, however, and would have to play it safe until she had it. Considering her reactions so far, Twilight showing up at all was a good sign. But that only got her so far. Patience, as always, was the first key to any venture.

Stepping to her right, Celestia let the table stand between them as she moved toward her seat, a physical barrier and a display of understanding. She would not force Twilight into a situation she was not comfortable with.

“Indeed,” she said with a small nod and smile. “That is one of the most important dispositions for a princess to have. That is not to say that duty must supersede everything. Take it from the voice of experience, you cannot be an effective princess if you do not see to your own needs with as much dedication as your subjects’.”

Never letting Twilight out of her peripherals, Celestia was disheartened, but not surprised, when Twilight matched her in circling the table, moving to keep it fully between them so that, when Celestia reached her seat, Twilight stood across from her at Luna’s. No ground had been lost but neither had it been gained.

The moment they settled into their seats, Twilight asked, “Your letter said there was something you wanted to discuss?”

Celestia raised an eyebrow, though Twilight could not have seen it, and added a click of her tongue for good measure. Twilight shrunk a bit, but made no protest as Celestia began preparing their tea. A mint and chamomile blend, its calming aroma filled the Solarium but did nothing to dispel the tensions in the air. Three minutes later, with a cup of tea placed before both of them, Celestia had made no more progress in discerning a new course of action.

With no other options presenting themselves, she let the hydra in the room wait, instead steeling herself for the most difficult conversation she’d had in a very long time.

“Yes,” she finally said in answer to Twilight’s earlier question. “Truthfully, it is something we should have spoken of months, if not a few years ago, but a certain kind of fear has kept me from mentioning it before, and more than a little selfishness, if I am honest.”

“Princess?” Twilight’s eyes flickered up for the briefest of glances.

“As a Princess of Equestria, it is well past time that you visit our neighbors and allies, and begin developing relationships with their leaders and dignitaries. Though I will miss you greatly, I believe that, with the upcoming Summit, putting it off any longer would be missing a peerless opportunity."

"Wh—” Twilight stopped halfway to raising her head. Her eyes flicked back and forth over the table's surface, searching. Celestia focused more on the minute changes to her ears and muzzle. Twilight always put on a fascinating show while working through a problem, a rapid fire sprint through the highs and lows of confirming and discarding theories and datum, all leading up to the final exaltation of conclusion…

“Yes!” she shouted in a poor showing of forced joviality. Her smile had not improved, her ears never quite perked right, and her eyes, though raised, still failed to meet Celestia's own. “That’s perfect!” She nearly leapt to her hooves. “Thank you so much, Princess! I won’t let you down!”

Try as she might, Celestia couldn’t get a word in between the steady stream of meaningless rambling that continued to issue from Twilight’s mouth. She’d just started to rise, on the verge of adding a decidedly commanding tone to her voice, when Twilight said her final ‘goodbye’ and the door clicked shut with her on the other side.

Celestia stopped there, halfway to standing, staring at the closed door, utterly bemused. Nothing had gone the slightest bit to plan. Even Twilight's acceptance of her proposal didn’t fit. Twilight should not have left like that; her attitude throughout made no sense. She should have put up some resistance to the idea, and even then, she should not have fled like she did.

All of it left a sour taste in Celestia’s mouth.

She considered chasing after her, but, no, that was likely the wrong course. Twilight’s behavior warranted caution, not a knee-jerk reaction.

Settling back into her seat, Celestia sipped at her tea and let herself digest what had just happened. A minute, perhaps two, passed before she finished her tea with no progress to show for her time.

Luna would be up soon… or returning from wherever she’d flown off to. The bittersweet thought curled the corner of her frown. There was a conversation that she did not particularly look forward to, and yet, even if they quarrelled, and she did not doubt that they would, there would be hugs and kisses at the end of it, and she could really use a few of both.

—————————————

Luna groaned as she woke up for the second time that day. Her whole body ached; her wing in particular sore from the odd position she’d slept in. Despite the short few hours of rest, a layer of crust clung to her eyelids, half sealing them shut until she scrubbed them clean. A sour taste, reminiscent of nothing, lingered on her tongue. Worse than the rest, the haze of half-sleep hung over her thoughts, obscuring everything behind a cheerless fog. By and large, it was her worst experience waking up in quite some time.

Celestia's absence didn’t help. Considering all that had happened that afternoon, she'd fully expected her sister to be standing there, waiting for her to wake up, a chastising speech on her lips and a plan of action in her hoof. It would have been nice. They could have talked and apologized and made up then and there, salving the wounds before they festered.

It was a naive desire, perhaps, but the more she thought on it, the more she wished it were so. Despite their midnight picnic in the garden only days prior, it seemed like weeks since they’d last spent any real time together. Sex didn’t factor into it, not compared to the desire to hold and be held, to spend more than a few hours together at a time. Just thinking about it made her breaths come a little faster, her smile tick a little higher. She’d joked all those months ago, about leaving it all behind, but the appeal was real. To cast aside their duty and live together, unburdened by responsibility and expectation, to spend every waking moment at each other’s side, doing only what they wished when they wished. To fall asleep and awake never having parted company, to share at every meal, to lay in the grass, staring into each other’s eyes for…

She snorted, blowing away the overly sentimental thoughts; Cadance’s departure could not come soon enough.

Unable to suffer another moment of idleness, she rolled from her bed. The moment her hooves hit the floor, a wave of dizziness washed over her, and she staggered, leaning her weight against the nightstand. For the second time that evening, she groaned, cupping her head beneath her wings.

The light-headedness lingered, refusing to fully pass as she plodded into her bathroom.

Ice cold water sprayed from the shower head, splashing into her coat and sending shivers down her back and out her wings and tail. The chill was good, sapping away the last fuzzy dregs of sleep, though failing to clear her muddled mind. Ignoring it as best she could, she opened her shampoo bottle—taking a moment to inhale the unique fragrance she’d fallen in love with almost instantly—and started working it into her coat.

Annoyance captured her already dour mood as memories from the afternoon bloomed. Cadance’s audacity, invading her home without the most cursory announcement, only provided the base kindling. It was all that had come after that provided the real fuel for her ire.

How dare she question Luna’s devotion and love! To decry her love as false? She had not the right! If she had said such in Luna’s day there would have been blood, her pride demanded no less. How lucky Cadance was that her sister had been there to rein her in. Only for her Love’s sake had she held back.

Luna slumped, leaning against the shower wall.

It wasn’t like Cadance hadn’t deserved it all, not after what she’d said, not after claiming she was still possessed by the Nightmare. By what right did she pass judgement and condemnation upon them? call the love she felt a lie? Such impudence should not have been allowed to pass unanswered! Luna should have ripped that horn from her head and returned her to whatever backwater village she’d come from.

And Celestia had let her say it! She’d done nothing, said nothing to defend her honor, their honor. She’d stood there like a chastised foal too afraid to speak on their defence lest she earn another scolding. She’d given Luna no choice. One of them had needed to stand up for them.

Luna’s head dropped as the room spun behind her closed eyes.

“Tis thou and us and none besides,” she said with sneer. Mimicking the Nightmare’s appearance was foal’s play, a parlor trick, but no less effective for it. Cadance’s eyes widened in abject terror at her altered visage, trembling and quaking before her. She reveled in the stink of her ‘niece’s’ fear, savouring it with every breath. Oh, how she’d missed that rush, the thrill of witnessing her foe come to the full realization of defeat. "Come, niece. Lay us low. Show us thy righteous fury."

Her breaths came in ragged gasps pulled through gritted teeth, struggling to contain the creeping foulness roiling in her gut.

A single ember of resistance lingered. With her head lowered and horn brought to bear, Cadance sprang to the attack. Luna nearly guffawed at the foalish charge. Shifting her weight, she caught her niece by the neck and lifted, letting the foal’s momentum carry her lower half out from under her before assisting gravity in slamming her to the floor.

Cadance stared up at her, dazed, eyes wide and trembling with the terror of death’s impending embrace. Her throat, so soft and supple, compressed easily beneath Luna’s hoof. Pink legs and wings flailed and battered at her uselessly. Just a little more pressure, a little harder and it would be over, how wonderful it would be to cleanse the pink stain forever from her life.

“LUNA! That is enough!”

Luna swung her head around, her ire breaking before the sorrow in Celestia’s eyes.

Her forelegs bucked, knees crashing hard against the tile, and bile seared her throat, curdling her tongue as it filled her mouth only to spew forth, splashing across the floor. It burned, rubbed her throat raw like she’d swallowed sandpaper. She let her muzzle hover inches from the mess slowly washing down the drain, too weak to pull away. The vile odor assaulted her nose, and she gagged, pain lancing down her convulsing throat.

Less came out with the second expulsion, for all the difference it made. Her already scarred larynx set aflame by the extra dose of bile. She gasped and coughed, each rancid breath only stoking the fires in her throat.

Gritting her teeth, she refused to be brought low and started shifting her weight. Halfway to standing, her left leg quaked and slipped, flopping her to the side, her head bouncing off the tile.

Phased, more by having fallen than the impact itself, Luna just laid there, letting the cold water wash over her. Her stomach heaved a few more times, dry convulsions devoid of anything to disgorge. Every muscle ached, resisted even the smallest movements like they were formed of mud and clay rather than flesh and blood. Still, the malady receded, expelled bit-by-bit with every cleansing breath.

With much greater care than before, Luna found her hoofing and rose, limbs unsteady but holding. Her magic trembled as well, flickering uncertainly when she cut off the flow of water.

The shower, she abandoned, moving to stand before the sink, glowering at the mirror’s reflection.

Beyond her waterlogged coat, she looked terrible. Sleep-deprived, bloodshot eyes above dark bags and pale, hollow cheeks stared back at her. Her ears refused to stand up without constant effort, wilting immediately when left on their own.

Minutes later, she stepped from the bathroom, dried, brushed, preened, and as ready for the night as she could make herself, all things considered. Dispelling the magical darkness permeating her room, she pulled the servant’s cord before donning her regalia. Less than a minute later there was a knock upon her door, a unicorn maid slinking in when beckoned.

"The bathroom requires cleaning," Luna said, already stepping past her. "Make haste, I will have need of my rooms shortly."

The maid bowed and scraped, scurrying to the bathroom as Luna left in search of her sister. They needed to talk… she needed to talk. But early as it was, she wasn’t certain where Celestia would be. She did not search long. Though every step brought a clear her head and settled her stomach, she did not trust it to remain so and turned toward the one room she could be certain her sister would make an appearance soon enough.

By the time she drew near the Solarium, her state had improved dramatically, enough that she could hold something more than a disgusted frown on her lips.

At the final turn before reach her destination, her ears caught the steccato echo of somepony coming the other way, muffled muttering following in its wake. Only in the moment before she rounded the corner did Twilight’s voice become recognizable.

Something akin to fear cinched her heart, a cold terror beseeching flight, escape from a battle she could not fight. Instead, she hesitated, watched dumbly as the smaller alicorn ran muzzle first into her peytral. They both stumbled back at the impact, Luna in silence with a single step and Twilight with a yelp, falling onto her haunches and gripping her bruised nose.

Luna stared at her in bafflement. After their last meeting, and the lack of communication following it, the most she’d hoped for was short, tentative, and awkward meetings only when they could not be avoided. Seeing her here, now… Luna’s heart sprang into her throat, struck dumb, unable to decide on the proper course of action. She wanted to say something, to… She should do nothing, allow Twilight to decide on how to proceed. She should…

“Twilight Sparkle," Luna forced a smile, offering a helping hoof, "it does me good to see you.”

The awkward reticence she expected from Twilight failed to manifest. Instead, she stared at the proffered hoof with a look of horror before pulling away as though it were a snake. “Princess Luna!” Her eyes dropped to the side, a frown taking hold on her lips. "I'm sorry. Excuse me, but I really must be going."

“A moment, please.” The words came unbidden, unwanted. She had nothing to say, nothing worth saying that hadn’t already said. “Grant me your forbearance that I may make my apologies.” Twilight remained, silent and idle before her, waiting. “I am sorry. I…” Luna floundered, uncertain what to say, what she could say. Every half formed sentence tasted of ash and charcoal before she so much as opened her mouth. “I only hope that we can be friends again, someday.”

Twilight met Luna’s gaze for but an instant before turning away again, her eyes burning with indignation. “Excuse me,” she said, attempting to push past her, “but I really need to be going.”

Luna retreated a step and flared her wings, blocking Twilight’s escape. “Hold, Twilight Sparkle. From whence does such vitriol spring?”

Backpeddling, Twilight continued to avoid eye contact and reined in the tone of her voice. “No. Sorry. I’m fine. Everything is… everything is fine. I just have… things to do. I'm sure you do too, so if you'll just let me go…”

Bringing her wing around, Luna swiped a feather below Twilight's ear, catching a glistening bead of moisture that had started to roll down before she could flinch away. "Everything is most certainly not fine, Twilight Sparkle. You are sweating.”

Twilight glared down at the floor, gritting her teeth. “Please, just let me go.”

“I cannot in good conscience allow you—”

“Good conscience?” Twilight blurted out with a mirthless laugh, briefly meeting Luna’s eyes with another hard glare. Luna matched Twilight’s leer, the last of her smile crumbling. Wings tightening against her side, Twilight dropped her eyes first, making a conscious effort to control her voice as she said, “Just go away. Leave me alone.”

“I will allow your disrespect to pass unredressed, Twilight Sparkle, you have earned as much, but you will not leave here until you explain yourself.”

Magic swirled around Twilight’s horn in the familiar opening chords of a teleportation spell. “I don’t owe you anything!”

The block came on reflex, disrupting Twilight’s attempt to escape, diverting her to a few inches to her left rather than her intended destination.

“No! No no no! You can’t do this! It’s not fair! I just want to be left alone! Why can’t you leave me alone?”

Luna stepped forward, leaning down to more closely examine Twilight's face and posture. “And all I wish is to ensure you are well.”

Despite retreating from Luna's advance, Twilight's voice remained hard and defiant. “You want to make sure I am ‘well’? Then Leave! Me! Alone!”

"Your hurt is understandable, but isolation—”

"Hurt? You think I’m still pining after you? Well, I’m not. I want nothing to do with you! You make me sick!” The words, like an unexpected slap to the face, stunned Luna, and she offered no resistance when Twilight shouldered past her.

“Twilight Sparkle," Luna said as she turned, an oppressive darkness riding on her words, halting the fleeing mare in her tracks. “Thou shalt explain thyself now.”

Twilight spun in place, her head held high and wings flared, holding Luna’s glare for the first time since that initial evening at Twilight’s palace. “You want an explanation?" Twilight sneered. "Fine. I. Know.”

All the tension drained from Luna’s face, a chill starting in her chest and snaking into her limbs. She could see nothing but the mare standing before her. She could hear nothing, waiting for the next words to follow. She had no thoughts, save for the creeping certainty that she already knew exactly what Twilight was about to say.

“I know what you and Princess Celestia are doing, and it’s disgusting! You’re sis—”

—————————————

“—ters?” The sharp jolt from the unexpected teleportation twisted Twilight’s voice, turning the exclamation into a question.

She recognized her surroundings immediately, despite having only been there once before. The room was dark, though more from a lack of bright colors than illumination, the evening Sun leaking in through the windows, providing what light it could. Shades of black and dark blue prevailed on every piece of furniture, broken only by swirls of silver gilding and embroidery. Chaise-lounges and coffee tables stood on expensive, expansive rugs that took most of the floor space with an alicorn sized bed set off by itself. Opulent, comfortable, and coated in shadows: there was no mistaking it for anything other than Luna’s bedroom.

Twilight didn’t linger on the aesthetics, turning toward Luna herself. She was no longer standing there, looking down upon her with an imperious glare. Instead, she'd gracelessly draped herself across the nearest chaise-lounge and laid a hoof over her muzzle. Were it not for the twist of her lips, she could have passed for sleeping or posing for a portrait. It took all of a second for Twilight’s imagination to take over, a white muzzle craning to kiss—

Twilight turned away quickly, her eyes landing squarely on the bed. Luxurious beyond anything Twilight had ever seen, much less laid upon, she failed to notice any of it, drawn straight to the hoof board and the jagged edge where—

A cry of ecstasy filled the air, barely overcome by the shattering of ancient wood as a pristine white hoof lashed out.

“I’m leaving,” she all but shouted, like a foal proclaiming her intentions to the monsters under her bed, hoping they would let her be.

“Please stay.” The plea in Luna’s voice caught her off guard, stopping her half-turned toward the door. “I am sorry. I have acted poorly and you have suffered unduly for it. If you never wish to see me again, I will understand, but I beg you, do not allow it to end this way.”

Twilight stared at the balcony directly across from her, gritting her teeth, unable to ignore Luna's appeal. “And how would you have it end? With smiles and a song? Tearful hugs all around?”

“I am not so naive, but is it too much to hope that we part, if not as friends, at the least not as foes? You claimed to love me once, and I care for you still.”

“Claimed?” she snapped, spinning to face Luna once more. “I all but worshiped at your hooves! I would have followed you blindly, trusting in your every word, thrilled by the smallest show of affection.” Where the tears came from, Twilight had no idea, but their appearance only served to fuel her anger as she tried to scrub them away. “But you pushed me aside. You turned me away FOR YOUR SISTER! And what? You expect me to pat you on the shoulder and say ‘It’s okay. I’m not disgusted by the thought, that just looking at either of you doesn’t turn my stomach.’?”

Luna flinched. “This was not how…” she trailed off into a heavy sigh and shook her head. “No. No, I do not.”

The total lack of a denial tore the ground from under Twilight’s hooves. Everything up till then had been speculation, entirely distracting and wholly disturbing speculation, but speculation nonetheless. She could no longer cling to that explanation, that life-saving branch finally snapping, sending her tumbling down the rapids of her own mind.

A shiver of disgust ran down Twilight’s spine and out her wings and tail as she was replaced by Princess Celestia in every lewd dream of Luna she’d ever entertained. Her hooves felt dirty, soiled by the images of her mentor with her legs spread, begging her sister to touch her, to please her. Luna’s lust filled eyes only sharpened her revulsion, giving it a keen edge to slice at her stomach and making her want to gag.

That Princess Celestia was… desirable to many was just something she’d never allowed herself to think about. She knew it in that instinctive way she knew her own parents had to have had sex at least twice without ever stopping to consider it. Princess Celestia was, for completely understandable reasons, considered to be the pinnacle of beauty. What she was not, at least in Twilight’s mind, was sexual. Being physically attracted to her was as inconceivable as being physically attracted to a painting or a statue. She was to be admired and aspired to, but not desired. Even trying to think about her like that…

All Luna had needed to do was deny it. There was no proof, not really. A bit of feigned outrage, a few words of condemnation for so terrible an accusation, and Twilight could have gone back to blissful ignorance. Sure, she might have obsessed over it for a few more days—or weeks—but it would have passed in time, and everything would have gone back to normal. But no. Luna hadn’t even tried to deflect her, and for what? integrity? Even Applejack knew that there were times when the unfiltered truth could do more harm than good.

“What do you intend to do?” Luna finally asked, her eyes still trained on the rug at Twilight's hooves.

"Intend?" The question formed as an afterthought, the byproduct of a mind too distracted to enact any sort of restraint or inject the tiniest hint of emotion.

Of all the selfish… Here she was, watching helplessly as the idol she'd based her entire life's philosophy around was destroyed with a single hammer blow, and all Luna wanted to know was how she would use that self same hammer.

Luna nodded, lifting her gaze to meet Twilight's. “We would ask that you speak of this to no one, that you allow us to preserve our privacy. And if not, at the least grant us time to prepare. We will not demand this of you but ask it as a final favor, in memory of the friendship we shared."

Disbelief left Twilight oddly numb, immobile from shock and rising resentment. She struggled to wrap her head around what Luna was asking of her. The words, though, slipped away, leaving her with nothing but a vaguely insulting plea tainted by an implication of complete distrust. That she would so blatantly attempt to leverage any lingering affections only served to gall her even more.

She wanted to snipe at her, to point out how short sighted she was being. It was only a matter of time before somepony else discovered the truth, and the chance of that pony being sympathetic or trustworthy enough to keep it to themselves were beyond miniscule. Then, when it finally were outed, what was she supposed to do? stand behind them as though she supported their lifestyle? lie and pretend that she hadn’t know the whole time? or come out and denounce them, hoping that no one guesses the truth? Agreeing would do nothing but align her fate with theirs.

And yet…

“Fine. Yes. I promise not to tell anyone. May I go now?”

Luna’s expression only worsened, her ears finally giving up the last of their defiance and falling completely limp. She tried to speak, her mouth opening, but no words followed. A weak nod was all she could manage. The sight struck Twilight hard; the warrior princess of her dreams reduced to a speechless wreck. Rather than sympathy, she felt only annoyance, a growing realization of just how foalish and hollow her feelings toward Luna had truly been.

Turning away was a relief in-and-of itself, like casting off a heavily laden saddle. She’d made it halfway to the door before Luna found her voice.

“Must it end this way?”

Twilight paused and almost turned around. Before she could answer, a sound caught her ear, the sharp ting of metal shoes on a marble floor. Knowing who it was did not help her, years of repetition over-riding her better judgement, twisting her neck to face the balcony.

Princess Celestia slunk into the room, her attention so focused on Luna’s bed that they went unnoticed until she was fully inside. The moment she did notice would stand out in Twilight’s mind for years to come as the only time she witnessed Celestia display anything close to shock.

“Twilight?" she asked, her jaw dropping for a full second. "I… I must admit that this is the last place I expected to find you. You left in such a rush, I half expected a letter from Spike by the end of the day informing me know you were already packed.”

Nothing Celestia said should have bothered her. It was a completely innocent observation based on their current situation and past history. Which was exactly the problem.

“Packed?” Luna asked, sitting up-right for the first time, glancing rapidly between them. “Packed for what?”

“I’m going on a trip,” Twilight said quickly, sarcasm inundating her voice. “A little jaunt around the world to keep me out of everyponies’ mane while you and Celestia—or is it just Celestia—decide how to deal with me.”

“Deal with you? That is not my intention at all, Twilight. Where—”

“But that’s okay, because I don’t want to be here anyway.” Twilight spun away from them, marching toward the door. She nearly made it this time.

“No.”

The Royal Canterlot Voice was boisterous and loud, tailor made to travel over a crowd or shout down a dragon. Celestia’s voice was something altogether different, soft but with an almost physical weight of command. It gripped Twilight, stopping her within hoof’s reach of the door.

“You will not walk away from me like that.”

Twilight nearly gave into the desire to scream and wail, to stomp her hooves and throw a fit like a filly being sent to bed without dessert. She wasn’t a filly anymore! She was a mare, a princess. Her mind was her own, her actions and decisions belonged to no one but herself, and she would not be scolded like a misbehaving foal.

“This is not the way, Sister.”

“I will not allow such a sudden change in behavior to go unaddressed, Luna. Please, Twilight, tell me what is wrong so that I—”

Only a laugh in the broadest terms, a single, harsh bark burst from Twilight’s muzzle. “Wrong? You want to know what’s wrong? Fine, I’ll tell you what’s wrong,” she said, keeping her eyes locked on the door. “‘Oh Celestia! Yes!’”

Her mimicry of Luna was far from perfect but unmistakable nonetheless. She could feel their eyes on the back of her head, staring in dumbfounded silence.

“That’s what’s wrong, Celestia. I heard you. I heard both of you, and now I can’t stop! I can’t get it out of my head! Every time I think of either of you, every time I see either of you, ‘Oh Celestia! Yes!’ I can’t make it stop! Can you make it stop? Can you pull it out of my head? Can you tell me it isn’t true? Tell me it isn’t true, Celestia! Tell me that I’m crazy, that you aren’t f-fucking Luna.”

Gritting her teeth and squeezing her eyes shut, Twilight fought back the tears and sobs seeking to overtake her. Every breath she took threatened to break her hold, shaking her last, tenuous grasp of control as she waited for Celestia to respond, waited for her to say something, anything that could make any of it the slightest bit better.

“I… I am sorry, Twilight. I cannot—”

The rest was lost to her, muted as she stepped out the door and into the empty hallway.

Author's Note

So ends Cuori Intrecciati with hearts entwined no more and our princesses left to nurse still bleeding wounds.

There is, of course, a postscript left for you to read which may satiate your appetites more fully (though I would not count on it). Know that I do have... plans for a third story, but they are tentative at best. I have spent a year and a half on this story (if you include Sogni), and I have decided to focus on other endeavors for the time being.

Viva le principesse!
The Landgrave