Of course, a group hug, nice as it was, couldn’t solve everything. Neither could make up sex. Truthfully, Lero wasn’t really sure it had actually solved anything.

Oh, it wasn’t that he feared they were going to wake up and go back to fighting or the same sort of uneasy tension that that been floating around the combined house for the past week or so would pop back up. Yet, at the same time, and in spite of the mares currently curled up around (and on) him, he wasn’t completely happy, either. It wasn’t the sort of egg shells tension that had filled the air and conversations before; the contented way his three wives were sleeping told him that, but something had changed. Perhaps only for him.

Intellectually, ever since Rainbow had explained the notion of the herd as a family unit to him, Lero had known that herds could contain more than one stallion. Indeed, over the years he had met more than a few such herds, such as Twilight’s, which reinforced that. The notion wasn’t foreign to him, and he also understood that a lot of stallions in the herd were just friends, best friends perhaps, but there was no obligation there to engage in sex. Yet, he suppose he just assumed it would never be something he’d have to deal with.

Perhaps the fact that he never thought he’d have to deal with the sex lives of colourful intelligent aliens in another dimension that looked very similar to horses, should have tipped him off to the fact that he should have expected he’d have to deal with the unexpected. He hadn’t though, not if Lero was being honest with himself, and that bothered him, on more than one level.

The idea of adding another stallion to his family, someone who’d be sleeping with his wives… it bothered him, and there was no pretending it didn’t, although he knew it was selfish and a little bit sexist of him to be okay with his wives sleeping with one another and him, yet unwilling to share with another. There was more to it, though, than just that.

Sitting down at the table with Dust Tempest just made him realize just how… inadequate he surely was. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe Twilight when she said that he was special to them—she never really struck him as the sort that was capable of such duplicity; yet, she didn’t see the way her eyes lit up when Dust started talking about weather manipulation, and he could tell Rainbow was just as interested. For different reasons, of course, but still.

Was he holding them back? Lero had done odd jobs around the town since he was strong enough—and accepted enough—to do so, yet it had only been in the past week that he had really sat down and reflected on it, on his choices. Who was he, really, compared to these mares?

Lero sighed and ran his down down Rainbow’s back, stroking along her spine, down towards her dock, once or twice. He didn’t want to wake her, or any of them. True, he had woken early—the sun was only just now peaking over the horizon—but he knew his mares needed their rest. It was only his restless mind that prevented him from getting any sleep, after all. He wasn’t about to deny them that, if they had been able to find the peace of mind to rest.

He stroked down her spine again, and couldn’t stop himself at smiling at her adorable murmuring as she shifted on his naked body and snuggled a bit closer. Rainbow would never admit to being anything less than cool, but he—and Twilight and Lyra—knew better.

That was part of the problem, though. She was on her way to being a Wonderbolt, Lyra was already a world-renown master of Still Way, and Twilight… well, Twilight was literally a Princess. And what was he? What was he really? He had no real job, and it seemed the odds of him ever starting a family were long, if not outright impossible.

Lero wasn’t even sure he could really call himself a good husband anymore, because he was pretty sure Lucent or Shining Armor wouldn’t be upset or jealous if their wives took another lover. Well, Lucent to be certain, at least.

What’s worse, he knew full well that it wasn’t just his dreams of having children that he had destroyed; he had probably done serious damage to any hope his wives might have of having kids too. Including Rainbow’s, for all her protests and desire to want to side with him. He could have lived with his own infertility, but it felt wrong to force these ponies to never have children because of him.

His sigh was heavy as he slammed his head back against the pillow with unnecessary force—eliciting a sleepy murmur from the mares on either side of him.

Slowly, the band of sunlight coming in through the window moved, drawing a sharp line across the rafters. No thoughts came to him, no amazing solutions or plans for how to… how to not be him anymore. How to fix the relationship that Lero was becoming increasingly certain was broken in a fundamental way, under its skin.

The stillness of thought and softness of the ponies breathing and sleeping around him lulled him, though—the lack of thoughts in his head slowed and stilled and he could feel himself drifting, perhaps not towards sleep, but not towards full wakefulness either.

In the twilight between sleep and wakefulness, Lero become vaguely aware of movement down stairs. The sound of somepony moving about—most likely Spike—although it was very unusual that he’d be up so early. Then there was a muffled thumping; someone on the far side of the house was knocking on their door and it was only a testament to how quiet the room was, how peaceful it was in Ponyville, that he was able to hear it at all.

Then the sound of a door opening. Talking.

Lero felt himself drifting.

Then he became aware of the sounds of somepony trotting up the stairs of the house, hooves clicking on the wooden floors; he jerked slightly, unsettling and, for the first time, waking everypony in the bed at least part of the way up.

Somepony was in–

Before he could finish the thought, the door was thrown open with a bang, revealing a somewhat harried looking Princess Cadance framed by the early morning light streaming in behind her. The light flooded into the room so it fell on everypony and Lero. “I came as quickly as I coul—oh.” She cut herself off, apparently realizing that most of the ponies in the room were asleep—although they were stirring now. Her eyes flicked around the room, taking it all in before meeting Lero’s and her stern expression softened slightly as her lips twitched.

Lero stared at the mare—he knew Cadance on one level or another, although he couldn’t say he knew her very well, considering they lived a country apart and Twilight had yet to invent the internet. Of course, one normally didn’t expect to see an alicorn princess barging into your bedroom so early in the morning. Well, at least not an alicorn princess you weren’t normally sleeping with.

Which, of course, meant the whole situation was rather unusual. The lack of sleep was making Lero’s mind foggy, and before Lero could say anything Rainbow Dash yawned and stretched, pulling his attention back to the mare using his chest as a bed.

“Whaah?” Rainbow half moaned, half said. A surprisingly coherent sentence for this time of day for his wife, especially after the night (and day) they had had prior. She wasn’t the only one, as Twilight turned her head to blink beadily at the mare in the doorway while Lyra’s eyes opened in a way that suggested she hadn’t been sleeping at all.

“Ca–” Twilight’s thought was cut off by her own jaw breaking yawn. “Cadance? What—what are you doing here?”

Cadance’s amused grin dropped back into the stern frown she had worn when she first kicked their door open. “Spike sent me a letter a few days ago, and I came as fast as I could.”

“Spike?” Twilight repeated. “He sent you a letter? Why?”

“Because he was worried about you,” Cadance shook her head. “All of you. And frankly so am I.”

Rainbow shifted, turning her head to frown at the princess, her ears half splayed against her head as she gave her tail an unhappy flick. A flick that dragged the fine hairs of his wife’s skirt across his bare thighs and bare dick, reminding him rather pointedly that he was in fact, completely naked, in front of someone who was more or less a stranger.

Perhaps the intelligent reaction would’ve been to not call attention to that fact, but Lero’s immediate reaction was to yelp and trying and use his wife to shield himself from Cadance’s sharp eyes—much to Rainbow’s unamusement. It didn’t help that his reaction didn’t go unnoticed, and Cadance’s frown briefly flickered into a smirk.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before, I assure you, Lero,” Cadance said softly, which only made Lero’s cheeks burn hotter. She had seen!

“Yes, but... “ Twilight said, yawning and ignoring the pantless drama unfolding beside her. “I know Spike must have sent you the letter a while ago, but we kind of… worked things out last night. Everything’s fine, now.”

He couldn’t help noticing the barest hint of desperation in his wife’s voice, a certain denial that they might not be back to normal. He could sympathize, of course, he knew exactly how his wife must be feeling.

Of course, Cadance must have picked up on the desperation in Twilight’s voice, from the way she frowned somewhat skeptically for a moment, fixing Twilight in a stare that reminded Lero uncomfortably for multiple reasons—several of which had to do with the fact that he was using one of his wives to shield himself from this mare—of his mother, when she knew he wasn’t telling the whole truth.

“Really?” Cadance said after a moment, although her tone remained light. “Well, that’s good to hear... “ she paused, looking as if she was inviting Twilight—or any of them, actually—to elaborate on the claim. “I’m sure you haven't seen this yet,” She said, lighting her horn and pulling out from her saddle bags—which Lero hadn’t noticed—a newspaper, passing it to Twilight.

The top headline wasn’t accompanied by any photographs, thankfully, but Lero only had to glance at it sideways to guess the article was about the scene they had made—that he had made—in the restaurant the day prior. On Earth, the idea of a man crying might be cause for embarrassment for those around him, but only because such open displays of emotion weren’t really culturally acceptable. He supposed the same was true here, but mostly—or at least, so Rainbow had explained to him once—because a crying stallion suggested something was seriously wrong, given mares were supposed to protect and look after them. It suggested they were abusing him, and in truth, Lero wasn’t sure how far off that was. Although it was less of them and much more of him, doing the abuse.

“Ah,” Twilight said in a reluctant tone of voice. “Yes, well…”

“I’m not really sure what possessed you to go on a date,” Cadance said calmly, although there was a hint of disappointment in her voice that made Rainbow’s delicately placed tail twitch. “But I’m guessing there’s more to it than that. To be honest, I’m a bit disappointed you didn’t contact me outright, Twilight. You know I would be more than willing to help you—help all of you.” Cadance swept the lot of them with a gaze.

“You’re probably right,” Lyra admitted, speaking for the first time since they had woken up. “There’s nothing wrong with asking for help, I suppose. I’m… I don’t think any of us were really thinking straight.”

“It does seem like a bit of a distance to go to ask for help, too,” Lero said. “After all, it isn’t like you’re just around the corner.”

“True enough.” Cadance nodded. “But I am a licensed relationship counselor, you know. Twilight ought to know that, at least.”

“Yes, well,” Twilight said with just a hint of frustration in her voice as she slid off the bed onto her hooves. “We’re fine now. I can’t say I’m terribly excited that the media’s got wind of the whole incident that happened yesterday, but it’ll blow over and… we’ll make it up to Dust.”

Beside him Lyra nodded, and privately Lero agreed, although he wasn’t sure he really felt he could apologize to the stallion just yet, even though he knew intellectually that the pegasus had done nothing wrong.

Indeed, of the lot of them, Dust was probably the only one who was truly innocent.

“I’m not sure I believe that,” Cadance said slowly, although her voice was void of any accusation, only understanding. “I’m sure if it’s true, you won’t have any trouble sitting down with me and discussing it, now will you?”

“Thank you for the offer, Cadance,” Twilight turned away and nipped at a wayward feather on her wing, pushing it back into position with what Lero suspected was unnecessary vigor. “But no, we’re fine. I’m sorry you made the trip out here for nothing.”

“Twilight…” Lyra said, with just a hint of pleading.

Twilight gave her a disapproving look, and Rainbow’s ears wilted slightly even though she hadn’t said anything herself. Without seeing Rainbow’s face, it was a bit hard to tell what she was actually feeling, but Lero couldn’t help feeling a bit put off himself. After all, he wasn’t really sure they were back together. Sure, time might heal those wounds, but surely a bit of help couldn’t do any harm, right?

Cadance sat down onto her butt with a sigh, before taking a deep breath and mimicking a motion of letting it out with her hoof—something Lero had seen Twilight do many times before. After a second she dropped her gaze back down to them again.

“Twilight,” she said slowly, and with an air of caution, and perhaps enforced patience. She may have been addressing Twilight explicitly, but even Lero, who by all accounts was a bit oblivious to equine body language, could tell she was implicitly addressing the lot of them. “I realize our culture promotes a certain… well, taboo, about seeking outside help for our problems within our herd, but you and I both know that’s foolishness.”

“It isn’t that at all,” Twilight said with a frown. “Look, I’ll be… well, perhaps not happy, but I’m willing to sit down and tell you all about it—I’m assuming Spike was bare on the details—but I just don’t see the point in hashing it out. Again. We need healing, now.”

“I know.” Cadance nodded. “You’re a smart pony—you all are, in your own ways.”

Twilight smiled at that.

“And I hate to be so blunt, and to say this to you, Twilight, but…” Cadance took a deep breath. “I’m just don’t want to see you make the same sorts of mistakes that your mother did.”

His wife openly flinched at that, her expression going from disbelief to horror to anger to what Rainbow Dash tended to call her ‘Applejack’ face.

“I am not my mother.” Twilight’s voice booked no argument, but there was a certain hint on her face that she was horrified at the thought.

“I know you’re not,” Cadance said softly. “But I think you’re more like her than you’d care to admit. I know your mother, I know your natal herd, Twilight—probably better than you do, truthfully, because I’m older and, let’s be honest, privy to the sorts of things your herd made certain weren’t seen in front of somepony as young as you.” She paused, as Twilight’s expression grew more and more grim with every passing word. “But it isn’t a secret to anyone in this room that your natal herd is a mess. Please, don’t let that happen to your herd.”

“I’m not,” Twilight repeated, scowling at the mare.

“Twilight, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea,” Rainbow said, with a hint of… perhaps not fear, but a certain reluctance in her voice to go against Twilight. Whether it was her attempt to respect or acknowledge Twilight’s new position within the herd, Lero really couldn’t say. He had never known his wife, his first love, to be particularly skillful when it came to delicate social situations, but it wouldn’t be the first time she had surprised him in the past.

“None of us really wants to have another fight, Twilight,” Lero said softly and slowly. “And… I don’t think it’ll happen, but at the same time, can it really hurt? To at least ask somepony else’s advice? You’re always telling us about how much you respect Cadance…”

Lero let himself trail off. Twilight didn’t often talk about her family, none of his wives really did, and they had all been a bit surprised when it turned out that she had a brother—well, many brothers, as it was, but a close brother—or knew Cadance. However, once the secret, if they wanted to call it such, was out in the open, Twilight had no problem talking about her new sister-in-law either.

Indeed, they were probably more like sisters than just sisters-in-law, at least in Lero’s mind. Of course, he sometimes caught himself thinking the same thing about Twilight and Rainbow’s—and his, he supposed—friends. Perhaps it was just one of those things that was different for ponies.

Twilight turned to Lero, and there was no mistaking the pained look etched on her face. She had wanted to put it behind them, to hug and kiss and fuck and pretend it was all over and resolved, and yet Cadance’s words, blunt and perhaps inconsiderate they might be, had drawn out the fears that the lot of them had been trying to bury, to force down deep within themselves. That never worked back on earth, at least not in Lero’s opinion, and it surely wouldn’t work here.

Ponies were alien. Nothing about this whole misadventure could remind Lero moreso of that fact. Oh, perhaps biologically they weren’t so different from mammals on earth, but culturally? There was no doubt they were alien on many levels. Yet, they were also very human, very human in the way they thought at times, the way they acted or wanted. Or didn’t want. They ran and hid from their problems just like humans, and in that, Lero supposed they weren’t so different after all.

Between his legs, in his arms, he could feel the tension in Rainbow’s sides, and Lyra’s unusual silence told him a story much the same as he was seeing on Twilight’s face.

They wanted to move past this, but they were afraid of what was going to happen if they didn’t, or couldn’t.

That’s alright, Lero was pretty damn afraid too. What was he really? He wasn’t famous or powerful. He wasn’t a very good husband or stallion. At best, he could be thought of as unique, but in Equestria more so than earth, unique was not so unique in a world where everyone’s talent was openly branded onto their ass and one could be neighbours with a baby dragon and a zebra. He didn’t want to lose this.

For all her fear, Twilight was still Twilight, though, and after a second, the fire fled from her muscles, and from her voice, as she sighed heavily and looked down at her hooves, avoiding everypony’s gazes. “Alright. I suppose there’s no harm in… in at least talking about everything with you, Cadance.”

Lero didn’t bother looking at the other alicorn, the relief flooding her voice was confirmation enough. “Thank you, Twilight. I promise you, I’ll do my utmost to help you, all of you, however I can.”

“What if we can’t fix things, though?” Lyra said softly, her voice dead and flat.

Cadance didn’t answer.

**

Once Cadance had left the room, Lero wasted no time replacing his wayward pants, much to Rainbow Dash’s amusement—amusement tampered with a bit of annoyance that suggested that he was probably in for a prank in the future involving Rainbow hiding all of his clothing and suggesting herself as a suitable replacement.

He loved Rainbow, and her carefree attitude and her prankster spirit, just as he loved Lyra for her strange spiritualism, and Twilight for her unusual lines of thought. He just wished they would stop rubbing off on Rainbow, because her pranks were becoming truly bizarre.

Still, her laugher and general high spirits dragged everypony out of the glum that had prevailed their bedroom ever since Cadance had thrown open their door and thrown the problems they didn’t want to confront back into their faces. By the time the four of them were stomping down to the kitchen, they were laughing and smiling, their attitudes mostly having bounced back.

Which was wonderful, considering the week or so leading up to Hearts and Hooves day, and the general dark atmosphere that had hung over their home.

Not that it was completely gone, of course. It was there, in the little things. The hesitations, the tightness of smiles. The frowns ponies had when they didn’t think the others were looking.

Hopefully things would work out. It was a hope Lero suspected they had to cling to.

To their surprise, they found Cadance in the kitchen with Spike, cooking. For Lero’s part, he had difficulty imagining any princess, any alicorn, sitting in front of a stove flipping flapjacks in a frying pan. It simply didn’t fit his image of royalty of any sort, and certainly not the sort of royalty who literally could move the heavens with their mind.

Plus, the one princess Lero was familiar with was an amazingly bad cook.

“Cadance?” Twilight said, halting just inside the doorway. “You never cook, you’re a princess!”

“Haven’t heard that one before,” Lyra quipped as she hopping into her seat with a yawn.

Twilight gave her a dirty look.

“Oh I learned ages ago,” Cadance said with a laugh before sticking her tongue out at Spike, who was looking her cooking over with a very skeptical eye. “Despite what certain baby dragons might think.” She flipped the pan in her magic dramatically and caught it with ease, showing off.

Lero wasn’t sure he could do that sort of thing himself.

“If you must know, your brother and I like to cook together,” Cadance continued, her voice growing a bit wistful as she slid the cake onto a plate and passed it over in front of Lyra, along with already completed pancakes for the rest of them. “It makes meals more intimate.”

“I tried baking with Lero once,” Rainbow spoke up, even as she shoved a mouthful of the pancake into her mouth, muffling her words. “It… it uh didn’t go so well,” she summarized as she swallowed hard and blushed.

Lero felt his own face heat up. That had been a long time ago, just after he and Rainbow had confessed their feelings for one another; unfortunately, that had led to them distracting one another at critical moments, leading to a batter that was far too runny and a cake that ended up being a lopsided piece of charcoal. At least they had enjoyed themselves.

“Yes, well,” Cadance said with a smirk, “It’s usually a good idea to exercise some restraint when working with an oven.”

Lero dug into his own pancakes, which were surprisingly good, tasting shockingly close to the sort of pancakes his mother used to make for him when he was a little child—which she always claimed were made with a secret ingredient: love. The taste brought back the memory of it so suddenly and so unexpectedly, he actually stopped and stared at the breakfast, only to glance up at Cadance with a bit of a surprised look on his face. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Spike’s cooking—or his wives' for that matter—but they never managed to make pancakes this good before.

Cadance caught his eye and smiled sheepishly, before turning back to the oven.

Made with love, indeed, Lero thought with a frown.

“I feel like I ought to ground you, Spike,” Twilight said suddenly; a glance at her showed that the mare apparently had no appetite this early in the morning, as she gave the dragon a grim look indeed. “I’m not very happy with you.”

“Don’t be like that, Twilight,” Spike said, looking down at his plate and shoving the pancakes around. “I just… I couldn’t stand seeing you hurting like that. I just thought, maybe… Cadance could give you some advice. Or something.”

“Twilight,” Lyra said sternly. “You know Spike was only trying to help, right? I know you’re not very happy with him airing the dirty laundry to somepony else, but, come on, Cadance is practically family—hay, she is family, in every way that counts.”

“Yes, I know,” Twilight side, her fork levitating around the plate’s edge, shoving and pushing the perfectly golden and flat pancakes around absent mindedly, but not eating. Her frown deepened for a moment. “I’m sorry, Spike. I’m still unhappy with you, but… I’m sorry.”

“Right.” Spike sighed heavily, undoubtedly feeling like he had, in fact, done the wrong thing despite everypony’s assurances. Lero reached across the table and patted him on the back awkwardly.

“You know,” Lyra added hesitantly, “I’m not actually sure we had the ingredients to make pancakes, now that I think about it. We’ve been, uh, kind of lax these past few days.”

Twilight’s head shot up and she frowned at Cadance. “You were planning on cooking breakfast for us all along, weren't you? No matter what we said?”

“Guilty,” Cadance agreed with a swish of her tail as she hummed to herself, serving herself a pancake or two and returning to the table. There weren’t any places for her to sit, so she ended up standing and hovering the plate beside her. “I thought it might help break the ice, so to speak. Auntie always said the way to a herd’s heart was through their stomachs.”

Lero snorted. He hadn’t expected that staying to transfer over here.

“Or their—well, you know.”

“Cadance!”

“Oh hush, Twilight, you know it’s true.”

“Princess Celestia said that?” Rainbow asked, her laughter muffled by even more pancake shoved in her mouth. “Really? Celestia?”

“I can’t believe Princess Celestia would say such a thing,” Twilight continued.

Cadance smiled at the pegasus and nodded. “Oh yes, although I’ll admit she prefers to keep that side of herself firmly under wraps out, at least with the public. She has quite a dirty mind, though.”

Twilight groaned and held her head.

“Oh don’t be like that, Twilight,” Cadance continued, shaking her head. “I know full well she gave you the talk too.”

“She just– she just,” Twilight’s face was turning a rather alarming shade of beet. “It was all very clinical, I’ll have you know.”

“Oh.” Cadance frowned thoughtfully. Apparently she hadn’t expected that answer from Twilight. Then she shrugged. “Different strokes for different ponies, I suppose.”

Lyra nudged Twilight with a bit of a laugh, while Lero shifted in his seat uneasily. As amusing as it was to watch Twilight get hopelessly embarrassed over sex, all Cadance was really reminding him of just who he was talking to. Cadance was, in some weird way, Celestia’s niece. With Twilight at least, he could believe that their relationship was more of that of teacher and student—a fabrication, perhaps, but one he often clung to when Twilight talked about Celestia. Cadance was family, though, and that only made Lero feel more than a little bit uncomfortable. Celestia always did.

“Ugh!” Twilight groaned and planned her face in the uneaten pancakes.

“Now now, Twilight,” Cadance chuckled. “You’re a grown mare, and grown mares don’t play with their food.” She glanced at Lero and gave him a winning smile that somehow managed to set Lero’s discomfort aside. “She was like this as a foal, too, you know. Why, I remember one time with a quesadilla that–”

“Alright, alright,” Twilight snapped, cutting Cadance off and starting to shovel the breakfast into her mouth without pausing to accent it with syrup or anything else, apparently wanting for the meal to just be over.

“I suppose it goes without saying that we’re all a bit surprised to see you here, Cadance,” Lyra said. “Just last week you were too sick to visit…”

Cadance didn’t say anything for a second, looking down at her breakfast with a bit of a disgusted glare after the first bite, before setting them side with a shake of her head. “I still am, I’m afraid.” She glanced at Twilight. “Let me tell you, morning sickness and trains do not mix.”

“You’re pregnant!?” Lyra, Spike and Rainbow said together.

“Congratulations, Princess,” Lero added, a moment later in a quieter tone of voice. Perhaps this was why it had been at the forefront of Twilight’s mind.

“You didn’t tell them?” Cadance asked of Twilight.

“You said to keep it a secret, Cadance.” For the first time that morning, Twilight’s voice was filled with something other than frustration or anger; a sort of amused confusion. “So I did.”

“Well, yes,” Cadance said with a laugh that sounded rather bitter. “I didn’t necessarily mean from your herd, though. I was thinking more of, well, to be honest, Pinkie Pie. She’s a sweetie, to be sure, but I’m not sure she’s capable of keeping a secret and…” something dark crossed in front of her face. “I’d rather this news didn’t get out just yet.”

“Why not?” Rainbow said, grinning in a way Lero had difficulty reconciling with the mare he had married. He had never known his wife to get that excited about babies. Perhaps she just hid it well. “That’s amazing. ‘Bout time, too—did Shiny keep missing or something?”

“Rainbow!” This time Twilight’s horrified voice was joined by Lero’s, while Lyra just laughed.

“No.” Cadance said coolly. “The truth is, this isn’t the first time I’ve been pregnant, Rainbow. It’s just the first time I’ve been able to… not lose her. So far.” Cadance sighed heavily and shook her head. “Which is why I’m trying to keep it secret, for now.”

“Oh, Cadance,” Twilight said sadly, as she got up and pulled the larger alicorn into a hug. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, I’m… I’m sorry too,” Rainbow added, slipping away from Lero’s side and shyly approaching Cadance before wrapping her into a hug as well. Lyra followed suit, even if neither of them knew her as well as Twilight presumably did.

Lero wondered if he ought to hug the mare too. Of the lot of them, he certainly knew her the least, having only met her a few times—it wasn’t easy traveling to the Crystal Empire, as a human. And, of course, the subject matter did nothing to make him feel less awkward. Perhaps it was the female led nature of the society that made Cadance more open about that sort of thing—certainly being nude all the time had done a number on what Lero might consider modesty. On the other hand, he wasn’t completely sure it wasn’t something Cadance was sharing because of the closen bond she had with Twilight either.

Spike, too, looked uncomfortable, so at least he wasn’t the only one.

“Yes, thank you girls,” Cadance said after a moment, pulling away from the impromptu pony pile. “I appreciate it, and well… there’s nothing we can really do other than hope and wish, you know? Shining and I have high hopes.”

“Me too,” Twilight said.

“However,” the bitterness in Cadance’s smile fell away as she turned more teasing. “Next time, don’t keep secrets from your herd, Twilight!”

“Uh huh.”

“Anyway,” Cadance continued. “I suppose we ought to get down to it, if you’re all more or less done with breakfast. I’m sure you’re wondering what I’m looking to do, today.”

Twilight’s comforting expression grew stony, and Lyra and Rainbow looked away as the bubble of normality—or what passed for such in a household of a ponies, one dragon and a human, anyway—popped and they were brought back into the cold reality of it all.

“I was thinking it’d probably be best if we sat down somewhere and you told me, exactly, from the beginning, what’s been happening,” Cadance nodded to Spike over the shoulder of Lyra. The dragon looked somewhat uncomfortable. “Spike’s letter was bare on the details, I’m afraid, so I’ve only got a faint sense of what’s going on… but even if I didn’t, I’d still want to hear it from the lot of you, if you don’t mind.”

“Then what?” Twilight asked with a frown, looking guilty herself.

“Well, then… we’ll see, I suppose,” Cadance shook her head. “This isn’t like math, I’m afraid, Twilight, there’s no one set path that we’re going to take, I’ll have to play it partly by ear.”

Twilight didn’t look particularly happy at that.

Lero looked down at his half eaten breakfast, then at the mostly clear—save for Twilight’s—plates, and pushed his aside. There was little point in delaying it, so they might as well get to it. “Alright, Princess–”

“Please, Lero, call me Cadance,” Cadance interrupted. “Any member of my sister’s herd is a member of mine, to say the least, and,” she paused and gestured to her head. “I’m not here as a princess, today, but as a councillor. That’s why I’m not wearing my regalia.”

He honestly hadn’t noticed. For him, a horn plus wings was all the regalia any alicorn ever needed, and he suspected it was true of others as well.

“Alright, Cadance,” Lero said finally, as he stood up and stretched a bit. He had made the chairs himself, but it turned out there was more to making a comfortable chair than four legs, a back and a place to put one’s bottom. “I think the den probably has enough seats for all of us, right, girls?”

The rest of his herd nodded, with Lyra turning to Spike, “Spike, why don’t you go over to Applejack’s for the day. Just tell her you’re going to be hanging out with her for a while.”

“Okay,” Spike said, sounding reluctant as he slid out of his chair onto the floor. And headed for the kitchen door.

“Try not to let the CMC catch you this time, either!” Rainbow added to his retreating back. There was humor in her voice, but it sounded hollow and weak; no pony laughed, nor did Spike, who only gave a half hearted shrug as he closed the door. Whatever good feelings might have been generated by having somepony make the breakfast, the cold reality was setting in, and they were about to go back into the trenches, so to speak.

There was a great deal of reluctance as they led Cadance into their home’s den, but Cadance, at least, maintained an air of cheerfulness as they all settled into seats with Cadance more or less across from them. It didn’t escape Lero that Twilight chose to sit right beside him, nor that rainbow sat on his other side while Lyra chose to forgo a seat all together and curl up at his feet. He appreciated the gesture, and judging by Cadance’s expression, a mixture of amusement and happiness, she hadn’t missed it either.

They still wanted him as their stallion, it would seem, whatever their differences. Lero allowed himself to relax.

“Alright,” Cadance said as she wiggling in her seat. It was a lumpy sort of reclining chair, one of his earlier works, and certainly not fit for such a rarefied rear as Cadance’s. “Let’s start at the beginning…”

It was hard at first; Rainbow jumped in, but faltered quickly, Twilight picked up the reins of the story, giving in precise detail the nature of the conversation that had led to her ‘discovery’—Lero wondered what Rarity would think, if she knew how much trouble her casual remark had caused. In truth, it was interesting to hear the whole story, in a whole piece, whereas before he had only received drips and drabs. It was all very logical, until she got to the night before Rainbow had disappeared.

Lyra tried to pick it up, but then Rainbow jumped in, apparently determined to regale the room with a story of sorts—until a stern look from Cadance caused her to drop back into something Lero thought was much closer to reality, although Lyra had to prompt her to talk about disrupting Fluttershy’s evening.

Lero could just imagine Fluttershy’s blushing face, if she knew they knew all about that.

Lyra took up the story next, then Rainbow haltingly explained who exactly Dust Tempest was to her, and then Twilight again, swapping in and out of one another’s stories as Lero knew they were approaching the tale’s nadir.

Throughout all this, Cadance remained mostly silent, as did Lero, although he suspected for different reasons. Cadance was listening, and so was he, but truthfully the more they talked, the more it became clear to Lero that the story really wasn’t one he was overly involved in. He may have been the reason Rainbow had insisted against the idea of opening the herd—for which he was grateful, but hearing Twilight and Lyra tell it, Lero wasn’t so sure they meant to hurt him, or even meant to deceive him maliciously.

“And then we had a bit of a fight,” Twilight said with a hint of sharpness in her voice, breaking Lero out of his thoughts and pulling him back to reality. “And said we were sorry and kissed and made up and then you barged into our bedroom! I hope you didn’t damage anything!”

“Nonsense,” Cadance said, shifting in her seat, moving out of the position she must have been more or less holding for some forty minutes with a sigh. “I was rated very good at preventing extraneous damage during dramatic princess entrances at Auntie’s Princess Academy. I’m sure everything’s fine.”

None of them were completely sure if that was supposed to be a joke or not.

If the lack of laugher disturbed her, Cadance didn’t show it. “Now,” she said, “I couldn’t help but notice that you weren’t saying very much, Lero. Why is that?”

“I don’t think I have anything to really contribute,” Lero said with a shrug. “I mean… I guess the whole restaurant scene was my fault, really but–”

“This isn’t about blaming somepony, Lero—or, somehuman,” Cadance interrupted. “And I don’t agree, I’m deeply interested in your thoughts.”

“About…?” Lero wasn’t sure what she could possibly be getting at, after all, his three wives had already explained most everything.

“Well, for example, how did you feel when you woke up and found Rainbow Dash gone, and your other herd members angry with one another?” Cadance pressed, returning Lero’s thoughts to that very first day.

“I… I felt bad, obviously,” Lero began, uncertainly, glancing at Rainbow Dash beside him, who reached over and pawed at his chest with her hoof as she looked up at him with a regretful, apologetic face. “Worried. I didn’t know what was going on, and Twilight and Lyra—sorry—weren’t very helpful, either.”

“If you’d like, we can talk alone,” Cadance offered.

He shook his head. That wasn’t necessary.

“But it was just a mess in general, I suppose. Mistakes were made…” he continued, shaking his head a bit more.

“I see.” Cadance looked as if she wanted to make notes, but then frowned at her empty hooves. A second later, Twilight sighed heavily and popped a scroll and quill into existence for Cadance. “Thank you, Twilight.” She nibbled on the end of the quill, thinking for a second. “Please, continue, Lero.”

“Why?”

“Because your thoughts and feelings matter, of course.”

“I guess, but not as much, right? Or they shouldn’t?” Lero frowned. “I mean, if I was any other man—well, any other stallion, I suppose, this wouldn’t even have happened. Either I would’ve been able to give them children myself or I would have been perfectly fine with another stallion coming into the herd…”

“Lero…”

“No, Dashie, it’s true.” Lero shook his head. “Don’t get me wrong, Cadance, I don’t blame myself for… well, I can’t blame myself for things I didn’t do—I didn’t cause Twilight to make a big deal out of it, I didn’t cause Rainbow to run away, but…” Lero fixed his gaze steadily on Cadance, steadily avoiding the eyes of his three wives, all of whom were tried to catch it.

“Mhmm…” Cadance scribbled something onto the scroll and looked thoughtful, then frowned. “Girls, I think I’d like to talk to Lero alone.”

“Alone?” Twilight asked, sounding hollow.

“Yes.” Cadance nodded. “I’ll probably talk to each of you, actually, but I think I’d like to speak with Lero first.”

“I dunno,” Rainbow said, her wing wrapping around Lero’s chest protectively. “I mean…”

“Rainbow, I’ll be fine,” Lero said with a smile, patting her on the back. “I can’t say I’ve ever been to a marriage counselor before, but I imagine this is pretty standard. Go on, I’ll be fine.”

One by one the mares reluctantly got up off of the couch Lero was sitting on and filed out of the room; unlike an actual office, the den didn’t have a door separating it, so between the Lero and Cadance, the two of them sat listening to them trot down the hallway until they couldn’t hear them anymore.

And then Cadance lit her horn and cast what Lero assumed was some sort of shield spell.

“Well, now,” Cadance said, turning back to Lero with a professional looking smile. “I suppose I’m curious about why you think your feelings don’t necessarily matter, Lero, but I think we should put a pin in that for now. I wanted to tell you something, and make you understand something right here and now.”

“Oh?” Lero half grunted.

“You seem to have the impression that this sort of thing is easy for every stallion out there—it isn’t. There are many herds out there just like yours who have a stallion, just like you, who isn’t comfortable with the idea of their herd adding another stallion,” Cadance said gently, in a motherly tone of voice. “Obviously it isn’t something that we openly talk about, but… Lero, the number of herds I’ve seen over the years—this is probably one of the top complications that shows up, in my opinion.”

Lero frowned at that. It may well be the case that other stallions found adjusting to a changing situation in the bedroom difficult, that had the air of truth about it, but he doubted they struggled in the same way or for the same reasons as he did and had.

“I don’t think they make scenes like I did, though,” Lero said finally, frowning down at the newspaper that had somehow managed to wind up on the coffee table of the den, staring at the incriminating headline.

“Oh, it’s more common than you think,” Cadance said dismissively, although her professional, polite smile grew a bit more wan. “Admittedly, though, it is rarely so public.”

“It’s still… I don’t know, childish, on my part.”

“Is it? I suppose one could see it as such, Lero, but… at the same time, no one ever said love—or just relationships of any sort—were easy, my dear.” Cadance sighed and shook her head. “I’m sure this is true here as it is back where you come from.

Lero nodded slowly.

“So, I don’t think you should feel overly bad about being upset about the herd wanting to expand,” Cadance continued. “I think that’s natural. It’s… change, and it’s change to some of the closest, most intimate relationships a pony—or human—can have.”

“Okay.” Lero agreed, if only because he wasn’t sure what else to say. Yes, all of this might be true, but he wasn’t sure that really made things better, in his mind. Being jealous of a sibling winning praise might be a perfectly normal reaction, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t an ugly one. He didn’t really need reassurances that it was okay to feel bad, really, although perhaps it did help knowing he wasn’t completely alone in the world, when it came to having difficulties with the idea of an expanding herd. “How do they get over it, though?” He asked, finally.

“Well, I suppose it depends on the herd,” Cadance said thoughtfully, slowly and with an air of choosing her words with great care, like a chess player placing her pieces. “For some herds, it’s merely a matter of reminding the mares that their stallion has feelings too. Most of the time they know this, but they can get lost in the tiny problems of day to day life and…” Cadance chuckled. “I must confess, new relationships can sometimes get very exciting and it’s easy to neglect your old ones.”

“What about others?”

“Well, sometimes it isn’t so simple, I’ll admit.” Cadance sighed. “I do my best, and nothing warms my heart more than seeing ponies reconnect and work through their differences in a relationship to a mutually stronger bond between them… but sometimes that just doesn’t work out. Sometimes I find ponies in the herd are monogamous, despite whatever they might say in public, and the relationship they’ve tried to build just doesn’t work.”

“Like me,” Lero said softly, with an air of dread in the words. Saying them out loud made them more right. But they were hard words, toxic words, words that he felt could destroy everything he had and might ever have just saying them outloud. “I’m not really much of… that sort, am I?”

Cadance’s mouth shut and she sat watching him think, not interrupting, just encouraging him to think it through.

“I mean, back home,” Lero continued, bolstered by the lack of judgement in the mare’s face. “Everyone is monogamous. Or is supposed to be, at least. We have ponies—good god, I mean people!—we have people who cheat on their significant others. I imagine that must happen here, too.”

“Infrequently, but yes,” Cadance said encouragingly.

“But usually they’re frowned upon. Having more than one girlfriend at once? That’s just... “ Lero shook his head. Part of him thought it was worth completing the thought, he had the impression Cadance wouldn’t hate him for it, but… he might hate himself, for it. “So I suppose I am monogamous at the end of the day.”

Cadance hummed noncommittally and scribbled something onto her notes.

“Which, I suppose means I’m the problem.” Lero said finally, sighing heavily and looking down at his hands. “It’s me. Not them.”

“Now, I said at the start of all this that this isn’t the time or place for recriminations or assigning blame,” Cadance said disapprovingly, like a mother might say to their child who did just what they had told them not to do. “That isn’t why I’m here, I assure you. And even if I was… this isn’t your fault, not really—well, perhaps blowing up at Dust Tempest–” Cadance added with a giggle, inclining her head towards the newspaper on the table between them. “But no, it isn’t your fault.”

“I think it is,” Lero said softly. “I mean, I… I’m not happy that Twilight or Lyra thought it was appropriate to talk about this behind my back, but I do kind of get it, sometimes women want to talk among themselves…”

Cadance tilted her head rather adorably, and it took him a moment to realize she probably didn’t know what a woman was. He let it slide.

“At the end of the day, though, the only reason Rainbow was so eager to defend me is because of me—because she knows I have no interest in other stallions.”

“I won’t deny it’s common, certainly, Lero, but it isn’t like it’s required,” Cadance pointed out. “That, I will add, is another common reason ponies approach me for advice. I’m not sure if it’s different for humans, but some stallions just can’t handle their lover’s co–”

“I don’t wanna know!” Lero exclaimed, cutting the mare off, who smiled sheepishly.

“Right.” Cadance wrote something else down, chuckling, and then sighed. “So… you feel guilty for being attracted to Twilight and Lyra?”

“Yes,” Lero said, then corrected himself: “No, not really. Not exactly. I don’t feel like I’m really hurting Rainbow, if that’s what you mean, but some part of me just feels it’s wrong… at first it just felt wrong, enjoying myself with–” Lero paused, blushing but Cadance only smiled encouragingly. “With, well, Twilight, because it felt like I was betraying Dash… but I don’t really feel that anymore these days, not exactly.”

“I see.”

“Sometimes I just feel like… I do love them, you know? I don’t know why or how, and I feel…” Lero sighed and looked up at the ceiling, trying to gather his thoughts from the nebula in his mind. “Just wrong, in general.”

“Mhmm.”

“How do I… not?” Lero said finally, dropping his gaze back down to Cadance fixing her with a stare.

“How do you not what, Lero?” Cadance asked politely, although he suspected she already knew what he was going to say.

“How can I move past this? How can I get over this?” Lero groaned, cupping his face with his hands as he leaned forward. “I love them—you understand that, right?”

There was a note of wry amusement in Cadance’s voice. “I think I have some idea what that’s like.”

“But, I’m not a princess or grand master or a Wonderbolt—I’m not really amazing in any way.”

“I think your herd might disagree with you, Lero.”

Lero’s fingers parted as he glared at the pony princess trying to provide them with help. “Can you even really say I’m a good husband, Cadance? Really? I can’t even give them children, I can’t accept their culture, I guess, I can’t…”

“Now, I think that’s part of your problem,” Cadance said, getting out of her chair and walking over to the couch, wrapping her wing around him as she sat down. “‘I can’t’ is never a productive start to anything.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “I want to be better. If… if they want to expand the herd, don’t you think I should be okay with that? How can I be?”

“I think you can only ever be okay with what you’re okay with, my friend,” Lero felt the mare’s head lean against his shoulder. “And I do think you’re good, Lero. If you weren’t, these things wouldn’t tear you up.”

“What do I do, though?” He asked, looking at the alicorn princess currently hugging him and holding his hand in… whatever weird way ponies could hold things with their hooves. She met his gaze and held it for a moment, looking thoughtfully.

“I have a few ideas, I’ll admit, but I’d like to talk to the others, first. Do you think you could send Lyra and Twilight in, dear?”

**

Twilight wasn’t really sure what to expect, when Lero stepped out of the den and walked up to the trio of them.

The wait had been rather awkward to say the least. They obviously didn’t want to listen in, that was rude—perhaps not as rude as knocking in one’s bedroom door and demanding you become involved in another herd’s personal problems, but even so. On the other hoof, they also hadn’t wanted to not listen in. Or at the very least, they wanted to be near Lero, as far as they might otherwise be allowed.

So the three of them had returned to the kitchen and proceeded to sit, more or less in silence, as they waited for something to happen. It was a bit difficult, in Twilight’s mind, not feeling a bit like a schoolfilly waiting outside of the principal's office, waiting to be called in after a big fight. Well, in her imagination at least. She, of course, had never been the sort of filly to get herself involved in that sort of nonsense when she was going to school, and after being accepted into Celestia’s school and as her personal student, there weren’t many ponies who would even think of trying to engage her in that way.

Nevertheless, all her readings and reflections on the matter suggested the feeling must be very simple. Apt, perhaps, given Cadance’s old-than-them age and the general position of authority she had occupied in her young life, as foalsitter and—if she was being honest—older sister.

Still, Twilight wasn’t sure what to expect when the three of them heard Lero approaching. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw her herdsisters turn to look at the doorway as the footsteps approached, but Twilight remained seated, staring at a small burn mark on the table that she suspected she must have caused at some point—it wasn’t like Lyra had the strength to do so, and Rainbow certainly had no magic of that sort to call her own (unless she was hiding a horn from them). She didn’t remember ever putting the spot on the table, accidental though it certainly was, of course. Perhaps a repair spell would–

Twilight took a deep breath and let it out. She was rambling. Her thoughts were rambling. She hadn’t felt this confused and out of sorts since… well, last week, actually, now that she thought on it.

She looked up just as Lero entered the room. He looked both better and worse than she was imagining and fearing. His eyes weren’t red, he hadn’t been crying—nor did it look like he was going to, although even after all this time she still had trouble reading human expressions at time. It was… stormy. He looked frustrated, sad, certainly, but as if he wasn’t sure he had liked what he had heard. Or perhaps that wasn’t it either, perhaps it was just a more open expression of the turmoil she felt in herself. She wasn’t sure.

“Twilight,” Lero’s voice was soft, but firm, perhaps with an edge that Twilight couldn’t place either. Not something Lero often put into his voice. He tried being so gentle with all of them, much of the time. “And Lyra… Cadance wants to talk to you.”

Lyra glanced at Twilight with a carefully neutral expression on her muzzle, and Twilight shared the look, before glancing sidelong at Rainbow, who was frowning rather thoughtfully.

They shrugged, and got up, trotting side by side down the hall with their flanks and shoulders brushing together. A sense of familiarity, and strength, Twilight thought, given it felt very much like they were walking into the lion’s den.

But why? They had resolved the problems, hadn’t they? Perhaps it was the nature of the beast.

Cadance… she had always looked up to the mare, and yet here she was, acting very much… Twilight wasn’t sure what her feelings were on it.

“Twilight, Lyra,” Cadance said, looking up from her wing, which she was apparently preening, of all things. “Sit down.”

“Okay,” Lyra said, before jumping unceremoniously onto the couch and setting the whole structure a-wiggle. Twilight followed her up and sat on the edge of it in a far more dignified fashion. She admired Lyra and Rainbow for being so carefree at times, but this wasn’t the time for it.

“What did you want to speak with us about, Princess?” Twilight asked in a carefully neutral and distinct tone of voice. “Did the talk with Lero go well?”

“It did, I think,” Cadance said, frowning a bit at her. “‘Princess’?” she echoed with a bit of a quizzical look. “I don’t think you’ve ever called me that, Twilight, even–” Cadance’s frown turned into a smirk. “When it probably would have been appropriate for your to do so, now that I think about it.”

“Well, I’m not sure where we stand, really,” Twilight said a bit more shortly than she intended. “I mean, you practically barged into our room—not even a knock, mind you—and, and this!’ Twilight gestured with her hoof to the den around them, sparing a baleful glare at the paper on the coffee table. “It isn’t like I don’t admit we all made mistakes, myself included, Cadance, but we have—we can–” that cost her something dear indeed. “–we will work through them. I know we can.”

“And you will,” Cadance said, surprisingly Twilight by inclining her head, agreeing with her. “I never said you couldn’t. It’s only… you understand, Twilight, I love you. I’ve loved you ever since I set my eyes upon you as a little filly—and you as well, Lyra, although I hope you won’t begrudge me if I said I was perhaps closer with Twilight than yourself.”

“Of course not, Cadance,” Lyra said, sounding amused. “I mean, you are sleeping with her blood brother.”

“Lyra!” Twilight hissed. The mare’s jovial tone annoyed and frustrated her to no end. This was serious! This was terrible and wrong and it should be met with equal and complete vigor!

Cadance chuckled. “Yes, well.” The princess shook her head, making a note on the scroll Twilight had given her. “I never said you couldn’t work through them, Twilight. You’re a smart girl, you always have been. But… surely you understand that there’s no shame in asking for a bit of help, every now and again? I seem to recall one or two of your friendship letters being about just such a topic, actually.”

“You–” Twilight shook her head. She was starting to get the impression everyone in Canterlot had read those blasted letters. Luna, she could understand, but Cadance? And, oh of course, perhaps her brother as well. Why not? “That’s not important.” Twilight paused, letting her thoughts still for a moment. She… she wasn’t wrong, was she? “I agree with the principle of the thing, Cadance, but you and I know it just isn’t done with herds.”

“Would you feel better if you made me a herdsister?” Cadance said, with just a hint of teasing amusement in her voice. “I can’t imagine the scandal that would happen—brother and sister in the same herd, no less.”

“Cadance.” Twilight said sternly.

“I’m sorry, Twilight, you’re so easy to tease sometimes… and… well, I know you love rules and order.” Cadance sighed heavily. “And I realize I’m intruding here, but I really do want to help.”

“I don’t have a problem with it,” Lyra said, interrupting the two way conversation between the alicorns in the room. She shrugged. “I mean, she is the princess of love, isn’t she, Twilight? If I had a friendship problem, wouldn’t I come to you?”

“I– yes, well, I–” Twilight’s train of thought derailed temporarily. It was easy, for Lyra, to say such. She treated rules more like suggestions, in a way. Not outright breaking them, exactly, but it was like they didn’t affect her, she’s just glide through them, untouched. “I said you could help, Cadance. I just wish you hadn’t been so…”

“I understand.” Cadance nodded. “Let’s continue, though, on more… pertinent topics, shall we? I take it from Lero that you’re wanting to have a foal.” Cadance paused, a pained look of longing passing over her face. “I know you’ve been looking into it for some time, Twilight… I take it that fell through?”

For a moment, Twilight felt confused. Of course it had fallen through. That should have been abundantly clear when she had explained everything to her no more than half an hour prior. Then it occurred to her that perhaps she was just trying to find a place to start.

“Yes, it’s true. I suppose I could still pursue the topic of, enchanting Lero or something so we could have foals,” Twilight said with a frown, followed by a sigh and rubbing the side of her head. “Maybe I will, I just don’t have much hope. It’s pretty clear that everypony else in history has just been… well, finding less magical workarounds.”

“It's easier, then,” Cadance summarized. “To just expand the herd, I mean.”

She wanted to say yes, but stopped herself, and said with a smirk; “I’m not sure one would consider love ‘easy’, Cadance.”

“Too true.” Cadance laughed. “But easier, I think, in terms of trying to bring about the result you want.”

“I suppose so, yes.”

“I’m curious, the Twilight Sparkle I knew wouldn’t give up or–”

“Cadance,” Twilight said with a weary sigh. “I agree, I’ve never been one to give up on things, to just say something can’t be done, but at the same time I know full well that certain things can’t be done either. You ought to know this too. There’s elementary aspects to magic, immutable, unchangeable, things beyond you or I.”

“You’re forgetting, Twilight, that I wasn’t born an alicorn, or even a unicorn,” Cadance chuckled. “I suppose rules and ideas that have been drilled into you two since you were fillies.”

“I’m not sure I like the implication here, Cadance,” Lyra spoke up. Twilight glanced at her herd sister and wife, who was frowning deeply at their guest. “I’m not a scholar like Twilight is, but you seem to be suggesting that this is all because Twilight’s just giving up on this idea. I don’t see why she should keep bashing her head against a wall if there’s no reasonable hope of it working.”

Twilight and Cadance flinched at the violent imagery. Something, unfortunately, Lyra had picked up from Lero, she imagined. Or perhaps a griffon, goodness knows Lyra had unusual tastes in friends.

“I don’t mean to.” Cadance shook her head. “I was, actually, just trying to ask Twilight how that made her feel… I know in the past you haven’t taken anything less than perfection well, Twilight.” She explained, turning her ear towards Twilight even though she continued to look at Lyra with a bit of puzzled and interested expression on her face.

“Well I can’t say it made me feel good,” Twilight grunted, thinking back to that first night after their lunch with Rarity, when she realized just how big of a mistake she had made, the oversight. She had desperately tried to find an answer that wasn’t the answer she knew must be true, that singular inescapable truth. “I was… more worried how Rainbow would take it. She’s loyal, very loyal, you know—”

“Almost like she’s the bearer of the Element of Loyalty, right, Twilight?” Lyra asked as she jabbed Twilight’s side with her hoof.

Twilight rolled her eyes.

“So you didn’t think Rainbow would take it well.”

“I know she wouldn’t. She’s always been protective of Lero—not to say the rest of us aren’t, of course” Twilight added hastily. Cadance made a note on her scroll and nodded. “I just… Lero’s come so far, you know? It isn’t like I didn’t imagine accepting a new stallion into a herd would be difficult or hard, but… I mean, come on. It isn’t like he doesn’t have friends who are stallions, right? What if it was Big Mac?”

“Applejack’s brother,” Lyra added, in response to Cadance's questioning look.

“Ah,” Cadance nodded and smirked. “Caught your eye, has he?”

“He’s Fluttershy’s stallion,” Twilight snorted. “I just meant as an example, really.”

“I see.”

“I believe Lero could adapt, can adapt,” Twilight explained, “He’s adapted so much, you know? I’m sure he could get used to the idea…”

“I sense an ‘and’ there.”

“And I think, as lead mares, we have to think of the good of the herd in general.” Twilight said evening, even though she felt a bit annoyed her sister-in-law had forced her to go on. “I love Lero very much, but he’s only one pony, even if he isn’t a pony.”

“I take it you think sometimes members of the herd don’t always get their way, then. Even stallions?” Cadance’s voice was neutral, but not in a bad way.

“I think sometimes that’s just what happens.”

“I see.” Cadance made a note, then paused, frowning at it, before scribbling it out. “What about you, Lyra, what do you think?”

Twilight turned to her herd sister, as did Cadance, but if the combined weight of half the nation’s alicorns unnerved her, Lyra didn’t show it. She met there gaze evenly, although she wore an expression that suggested she was thinking very hard over it. Not unusual, for the mare, and Twilight couldn’t help but remember how she looked that night when Rainbow ran.

“Well…” Lyra began, stopped, then shook her head. “I supported Twilight, and I continue to do so. I think she’s right… but it isn’t that Rainbow is wrong, either. The bond she has with Lero is… intense. Sometimes it’s like imagining the bond between Celestia and her sun.”

Lyra licked her lips, looking nervous. “Too intense, sometimes, and it blinds her and–” Lyra paused, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “I suppose we should have asked, this is confidential, yes?”

“It is,” Cadance confirmed, her face holding a whisper of disappointment. “And it isn’t. I won’t tell anypony or anyhuman anything you don’t want me too, Lyra—we can even ask Twilight to leave, if you wish, but, at the same time, holding things back from your wives? From your herdmates? That’s not healthy either.”

“Like you’ve never held anything back from Shining,” Twilight grumbled. She, of course, wasn’t privy to any sort of detail of that sort, but it must be true.

“I have,” Cadance confirmed, looking sad. “Oh, I don’t mean the little things like what he might expect to find under the Hearth on Hearth’s Warming, but… big things. Damaging things.” Cadance looked haunted for a moment.

“What… what do you mean, Cadance?” Twilight asked, wondering if she even should. Unbidden, she found her hooves under her and walked across the room to hug Cadance.

“It’s… personal. I don’t mind sharing, but this isn’t the time or place.” Cadance shook her head, even as she returned the hug as warmly as Twilight could ever remember. “But I was wrong to do so, regardless. I urge you not to keep secrets from your herd, Lyra. I know it’s hard.”

“I know the value of truth telling,” Lyra said shaking her head. “It isn’t that, though. It’s just that, well, I stood with Twilight because I feel like the herd does need leadership. Rainbow is a wonderful pony, I’m proud and grateful everyday that she’s part of my life, part of our lives… but she isn’t a leader. She’s been stuck in a rut—I suppose—and we’ve been stuck too. I mean look at this house. If Twilight hadn’t put her hoof down, we’d probably have Rainbow’s cloudhouse attached onto the roof, even though most of the herd can’t use it.”

“And getting everypony in the same house was a bit of work in and of itself, too,” Lyra shook her head. “I don’t like the idea of forcing the herd to go along with things, either, though.”

“Of course,” Cadance agreed. “Any relationship, herd or not, is about communication and compromise, in one way or another. We, as ponies, add consensus to that.”

“What is it you think we ought to do, then, Cadance?” Twilight said finally. “I don’t really know where the herd stands, myself, but I know I want to have foals one day, I know Lyra does too—and whether or not Rainbow is going to openly admit it, I’ve seen that gleam in her eye when we talk about it. Lero can’t provide them, and the only way we’re ever going to get pregnant is if we expand our herd.” Twilight grimaced. “Or, I guess, hire a–a stud.”

Cadance frowned at that and shook her head. “I don’t think that’d be necessary.”

“I’m guessing you’d like to talk to Rainbow, next,” Lyra mused. “If there’s nothing else.”

“I do, yes. Then all of you together, again.” Cadance agreed, scribbling something on the scroll. “If you could?”

Twilight waited for Lyra to walk through the door and down the hall, her hoofsteps fading. She paused, and Twilight knew she was looking back at her, but she waved her to go on. She… didn’t need Lyra to hear this. It took a moment before she started walking away again, and Twilight could just imagine her wife standing there, looking over her shoulder at the part of Twilight sticking out of the doorway, with a puzzled expression on her face. Then one of understanding. Maybe she didn’t want her to overhear, but Lyra was nothing if not perceptive, and she probably… knew.

It took Cadance a moment to notice Twilight hadn’t let left the room with her herdsister, so intent she was on scribbling. Twilight was tempted to look over her shoulder at what she was writing so intently and so vigorous, but she knew that was very much a no-no, even if it was notes on herself and Lyra. If, indeed, she even wanted to see them.

Cadance looked up, surprised. “Twilight?”

“Do you… do you really think I’m like my mother, Cadance?” Twilight’s voice was soft and fearful, those words giving form to the sense of shell-shocked horror she had felt most of the morning at her core. Part of her kept whispering that what she had done was exactly what her mother would have done, but she kept trying to remind herself that she hadn’t done anything purposefully harmful. Not to mention she felt deep remorse over it all… her mother, on the other hoof, Twilight was sure, had no regrets.

Cadance’s expression was a frightfully neutral mask, reminding Twilight uncomfortably and terrifyingly of Celestia. It was the sort of expression she wore when she didn’t want to say something, but knew what she had to say would upset Twilight anyway… and yet wasn’t willing to lie about it.

“No.” Cadance said finally, with a sigh. “And yes.”

Twilight’s heart sank and she fell onto her rump as she gaped at the mare.

“That isn’t a bad thing, Twilight, please understand. Star Sparkle…” Cadance looked distant for a moment. “She’s perhaps one of the most forceful and strong ponies I know, and yes, that includes Princess Celestia. She has a strong will, a willingness to fight for things she wants. Your mother had dreams, goals—and she reached for them.” Cadance paused, put aside her notes and pulled Twilight into the room with her magic, and into her waiting wings and legs. “None of which, is a bad thing, Twilight. You possess these qualities too, and that isn’t bad.”

“My mother–” Twilight’s voice was dangerously close to a sob, but she was stronger than that, even here, with her foalsitter and sister.

“Made mistakes, and is too strong headed and too strong willed to admit them,” Cadance said softly. “But you do, Twilight. You’re like your mother, and sometimes, like your mother, you act too strongly and make mistakes… but you admit them, and try to do better. I assure you, if Star Sparkle had been the one Auntie had sent to Ponyville years ago, she’s still be on the very first lesson of friendship.”

“But you said–”

“I know what I said, and what I said is true.” Cadance paused, and Twilight could hear her heart beating in her chest. “Your mother was prone to stubbornness, and I was worried that you, like her, wouldn’t accept my help because you didn’t believe you need it."

“Of course I need your help,” Twilight whined. It was if she was a filly again. “I… I’m hopeless. I should just give it back to Rainbow…”

“I didn’t say that, and I certainly don’t think it. You are a Princess, Twilight, you know how to lead.” Cadance nuzzled Twilight, nosing her ears gently, just like she used to do. “And I think you can, if that’s truly what you think his herd needs. Lyra supports you, after all.”

Twilight sniffled—not that she had been crying or feeling sorry for herself! After all, she had all these other ponies to worry about. Her wives, her husband… Spike. I should go apologize to him, she thought to herself, and the warmth enveloping her pulled back.

“I know something that’ll cheer you up,” Cadance said with a smirk. “We didn’t do it earlier, I didn’t think it was really appropriate for a serious discussion… however…” Cadance’s smirk turned into a grin, which Twilight found herself returning, catching on to what Cadance was saying.

Simultaneously, they started bouncing on their hooves as they chanted; “Sunshine, Sunshine…”

**

Rainbow paused at the doorway of the den, smirking like she had just caught Twilight going to town on herself as Twilight and Cadance spun on the spot and shook her rumps at one another.

“And do a little shake!” The two mares said at the same time, laugher barely contained in their voices, for all of five nanoseconds before they broke down laughing and holding one another. Rainbow figured that was her cue.

“Really, Twilight?” Rainbow said as she stepped fully into the room with a laugh. “Still? Aren’t you a grown mare?”

“Oh-oh hush, Dashie,” Twilight said breathlessly as she blushed, even as she grinned sheepishly at Rainbow.

Cadance didn’t seemed fazed by the idea that she was still acting like a silly filly, just smiling happily at Twilight, before turning to Rainbow with a chuckle. “Oh I don’t know, Rainbow, would you like to try it?”

“Ha,” Rainbow mimed laughing as she shook her head. “Come on, Cadance, I’m far too cool for that.”

“Oh, indeed?” Cadance chuckled, as she reached out and placed her hoof on Twilight’s shoulder. “Go on Twilight, I’ve got to talk to Rainbow now… are you feeling better?”

“A bit,” Twilight said, her good mood fading slightly, with her ears drooping and her face falling. “I think I’m going to go find Spike and give him a hug, though. Sometimes I don’t know where I’d be without him… he deserves better than me.”

“Sounds like a plan. Good luck—try not to give him too much ice cream, though.” Cadance giggled at Twilight’s expression, which shouted ‘do you think I’m an idiot’. Then she settled back into her seat, gesturing for Rainbow to do the same.

Rainbow needed no further prompting, stretching out on the loafy, lumpy furniture and giving Cadance a smile… that faded into something more serious as the situation caught up with her. The silence stretched between them like a canyon, and Rainbow found herself uncomfortably reminded of Twilight and her having a conversation over this very topic in her mother’s home. Save, perhaps, that the alicorn princess across from her was somewhat bigger and wearing a pleasantly neutral smile as she waited.

“Twilight tells me that you’re pretty close to making it into the Wonderbolts,” Cadance commented eventually, when it was clear Rainbow wasn’t going to be suckered into the first move. “That’s pretty impressive.”

“Oh yeah!” Rainbow grinned, her distrust of the pink mare temporarily placed aside. “I mean, I’m already one of the best fliers in Equestria, you know. It’s really just a matter of making it official, see. I’ve got a test coming up in a few months and once I ace that, I’ll be in the reserves.” Rainbow beamed, a familiar sense of pride and excitement bubbling up inside of her chest. “I’ve waited so long for this and…”

Rainbow’s glee faded as she realized who she was talking to, and why. “You’re not really here to listen to me talk about the Wonderbolts, though, are you Princess?”

“Cadance is fine,” she said with a wink, apparently not noticing the unamused tone in Rainbow’s voice or grumpy expression. “I suppose that’s true enough, but I do like hearing about your exploits, you know. Twilight writes pretty frequently to me, and Lyra does every now and again, but you…” Cadance smiled just as warmly as before, which only served to remind Rainbow of the guilt she felt over never writing her own mother, let alone her sister-in-law. Not that she had ever bothered to contact any of Twilight’s actual sisters or brothers, but perhaps that was normal, given the nature of Twilight’s natal herd.

The less that was said of her own natal herd and Lyra’s… the better.

“I’ll admit I do my best to keep abreast of such developments—after all, I am a princess of Equestria and requesting reports being sent to myself, is perfectly normal, but…” Cadance paused and licked her lips, grinning. “I daresay such dry reading hardly catches the blow by blow of them, right?”

“Okay, fine, sure.” Rainbow crossed her forelegs over her chest and frowned at the mare, resisting the urge to flare her wings and try and frighten her off. She didn’t belong here, family or not. “It’s great. I’ll be a Wonderbolt sooner rather than later. I’m Rainbow Dash, awesome. I’m not buying it.”

“Not buying what, Rainbow?” Cadance said calmly. Maddeningly calmly.

“That you care!” Rainbow snapped, keeping herself from yelling, just barely by the tips of her feathers. “It isn’t even why you’re here, there’s no point in denying it! You wanna talk about Lero and the herd and foals and junk.”

Cadance’s smile slipped slightly, and she sighed. “Yes, it’s true. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care and—let’s be honest—I rather think we needed an ice breaker.”

“Fine,” Rainbow grumped. She doubted she could really intimidate the princess even if she tried. “Talk, then.”

“Alright.” Cadance paused and tapped her nose with the quill’s tip, apparently thinking, until she gave a tiny, adorable sneeze and blushed. “Right. Well, I suppose what I’m most curious about is why you thought going on a date with Dust Tempest was a good idea?”

“Ugh!” Rainbow groaned, throwing herself back against the couch with vigor. “I told you, I told Twilight and Lero and everypony that it was an accident.”

“An accident,” Cadance echoed in a tone of voice that Rainbow hated. She doubted her. She thought she was lying. “I see.”

“Oh don’t say that!” Rainbow snapped.

“Say what?”

“‘I see’!” Rainbow said, shaking her head. “Therapists like you always say that and it always means something bad.”

Cadance opened her mouth to say something before closing it, apparently thinking better of whatever she was about to say. Then, a moment later: “You’ve been to therapists before, I take it.”

Rainbow remained silent, resolutely not looking at Cadance, which she supposed was answer enough for the alicorn.

“I don’t mean anything by it, Rainbow, certainly nothing bad,” Cadance’s smile was somewhat wan. “It’s only to get you to talk more. Often, with this, the only person who can really help somepony is themselves-I’m just a sounding board.”

“Whatever.”

“Now, you say it’s an accident, but, Rainbow—and please, I’m not accusing you of anything!—I can’t help but feel a bit skeptical of that claim. After all, picking somepony up is usually not so easy,” Cadance said gently, in a motherly tone of voice.

“Yeah, well.” Rainbow’s ears folded back against her head, although her anger was more at herself than Cadance or anypony else. Certainly not at Dust Tempest. “I just.. I didn’t realize until after what I had agreed to, really. I just thought he wanted to hang out.”

“On Hearts and Hooves Day,” Cadance said neutrally.

“Oh come on!” Rainbow said, throwing herself out of her seat and into a hover so she could freely gesture. “Look, I’ll admit it looks bad and all, but come on, how was I supposed to know! I’ve never been hit on in my life! Why would they, I’m not exactly you, Cadance.”

“What do you mean by that?” Cadance said, sounding taken back, which was just the sort of reaction Rainbow wanted. It emboldened her.

“I mean like, look at you! You’ve got the body of an alicorn–” Rainbow blushed slightly as she realized the stupidity of the statement “–all flank and hips and tail and neck. I’ve certainly not got any of that!” Rainbow slapped her thigh for empathize, drawing Cadance’s eye to her flat behind. Ordinarily, Rainbow would feel rather uncomfortable knowing a mare was looking her bare bottom—probably mocking her—but the moment had her caught up. Here, with her legs dangling loosely, her behind was particularly flat, and only served to accent the near total lack of body fat on her lithe form.

Rainbow turned back to Cadance, expecting, her to look either embarrassed, or understanding or at worst, with a mocking sneer across her muzzle. She hadn’t expected Cadance to look so… confused.

“I’m not sure I follow, Rainbow,” Cadance said finally, frowning at her. “I mean, thank you for thinking I’m… well, beautiful, but I’m not sure what that has anything to do with you, exactly?”

“I can’t believe Twilight idolizes you,” Rainbow said as she dropped back onto the couch with a roll of her eyes. “I’m not very good looking. Lots of ponies would call me ugly. No butt, no flanks—my tail’s always a mess, etc, etc.” Rainbow said tiredly, looking up at the ceiling and avoiding her gaze. Maybe she just liked drawing the answers out of ponies, taking sadistic pleasure in getting them to admit it.

Cadance didn’t say anything, and Rainbow didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of looking her in the face after admitting that hard truth. “So, when Dust asked me out on a date with me and my herd—I guess I just wasn’t expecting it and it caught me by surprise, is all.”

“Okay.” Cadance said finally, after a long moment of silence. Despite herself, Rainbow glanced at the alicorn, who seemed rather troubled by something, chewing the inside of her mouth thoughtfully, before closing her eyes and sighing. “It might be unprofessional of me to say, Rainbow, but I don’t think you’re ugly at all. Obviously you and I are very different ponies, but you’re also…” Cadance’s cheeks lit up. “Very hot. On your own. Maybe you’re not a fashion model, but there’s more than one way of being beautiful.”

“Uh huh.” Rainbow shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Look, I appreciate the thought, but I know you’re just saying that.”

“I’m not just saying it, though. That’s my point.” Cadance shook her head. “Before Shining and I made things official, I know he had a big crush on a mare who looked just like you. It takes all kinds. I don’t know why you think–”

“Look, I’ve had ponies tell it to my face enough times that it’s sunk it. Girls, a few stallions…” Rainbow said, cutting Cadance off. “I’m not stupid, and I don’t appreciate being lied to, Cadance. I know you’re trying to make me feel better, or whatever, but look, Princess, I’ve accepted this for years. It’s just the way things are.”

“I see,” Cadance said softly. Whereas before the word was more of her trying to prod her forward, this was more of an admission of defeat. Silence stretched between them for a long moment. “You know, when I first came to the palace—this was… oh gosh, must been fifteen years ago now… I didn’t know anypony, I guess that should be obvious. I wasn’t born into Royalty, just like Twilight wasn’t.”

“So I didn’t know anypony, I didn’t know my own body anymore—the whole magic thing, it was weird,” Cadance mused, smiling at the quill in her magic, as she rotated it. “But… I was pretty outgoing back then—I guess I still am—and Auntie encouraged me to find new friends… and, well, she introduced me to her personal student of the day, Sunset Shimmer.”

“She’s had other students?” Rainbow said with a tone of surprise.

“...of course she has.” Cadance shook her head, trying to return to her story. “Anyway, you’ve never met her—I’m not really sure what happened to her, actually—but she was a complete and total nag.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. first thing she said to me, when we were alone? Told me I was too pink. Offensively pink, I think were her exact words. And she told me I’d be lucky if I ever managed to have a kid with my belly like this–” Cadance gestured to her own tight belly “–without her coming out and wrecking my cutie mark into a thousand pieces.” Cadance barked a laugh and shook her head again. “She was, ah, witty, I’ll give her that.”

“What a jerk,” Rainbow commented, with a frown; in her head, she could only imagine Twilight as Celestia’s student, and it was difficult reconciling the image of her wife with the pony Cadance was describing. Obviously this Sunset Shimmer wasn’t the same as Twilight, but it was surprising that Princess Celestia would allow someone who was so unpleasant-sounding to learn from her, especially in a close, personal position. Rainbow found herself shaking her head: “What’s your point?”

“My point is that it crushed me, at least for a little while,” Cadance said, sighing and scrawling something into her notes. “I had a period of… oh, three or four years, growing up, where I’d wear dresses and makeup, trying to make myself less pink. A few unpleasant adventures with coat dye too, actually, until Auntie put her hoof down. It was just something someone said to me—someone I didn’t even know or care about, and it coloured my whole world.”

Cadance paused, giving Rainbow a very firm look. “I don’t know if Sunset was serious, or if she was just having a bad day or if she was just a natural nag, but I do know she wasn’t right. She was wrong, and she hurt me, deeply.” She looked as if she wanted to say more, but then closed her mouth.

Rainbow frowned at her, and then frowned deeper, at herself. It was difficult to believe that somepony like Cadance, a literal alicorn princess—and one of the more accessible ones, at that, could think she was anything less than, well, there’s a reason she was rapidly becoming a favored subject for artists and photographers. She hadn’t known Cadance well before her wedding, and truthfully she didn’t know her all that well now, either; she did know a number of ponies, including Rarity, who had expressed disappointment in learning she was getting married, especially with the implications overhanging it. It just didn’t fit. The mare was almost the literal living embodiment of beauty, at least in some quarters, and…

Of course, Twilight had had some… reservations about her appearance too, now that Rainbow thought about it, but she had always dismissed them as just Twilight being Twilight. Certainly, she was no Cadance—her coat was too dark for that, but…

“Well, let’s put that aside for the moment,” Cadance said, sounding as if she was pulling herself out of her own thoughts. “Tell me about Twilight; I see she’s lead mare—are you alright with that?”

“Sure,” Rainbow shrugged. “I mean, she is a Princess, after all—I guess she knows something about leading.”

“But you were still upset when she Challenged you.”

“Of course I was,” Rainbow snapped, “I mean, she just wanted to hurt Lero!”

“She did?” Cadance said, soundly neutrally surprised. “By not including him in the discussion?”

“Yeah!” Rainbow said, her wings flaring, stretching out against the couch as she frowned.

“Do you not believe Twilight loves Lero? Or you, for that matter?” Cadance asked, tilting her head slightly. “I’ll grant, though, that loving somepony—or someone—doesn’t exclude the possibility that you might hurt them, intentionally or unintentionally.”

“Well, sure.” Rainbow said after a long pause. “I mean, I know she does—I’m not stupid.”

“I never said you were,” Cadance pointed out. “And if you’re expecting judgement, Rainbow, you won’t find any from me. I consider you a friend, whatever else you might be to me, after all.”

“Alright,” Rainbow said, feeling as if a bit of the fight welling up inside her had been ripped away, making her feel deflated. A fight that she only now realized was brewing in her belly, now that it was gone. “Okay, look, I don’t mean that. I know Twilight loves Lero, and me, and Lyra, and whatever—and I know if she’s a bit inconsiderate sometimes, it’s just ‘cause she’s Twilight. It’s just, it’s Lero. He needs to be protected.”

“Let me ask you this,” Cadance said, pausing for a moment to gather her thoughts. “Suppose it really had ended there, that night—you told your herd no, you didn’t want to hear such talk, and they agreed. What would you have done then? Told Lero in the morning what had happened?”

“I don’t think so,” Rainbow said, feeling somewhat hypocritical. “There’d be no point in worrying him, right?”

“You tell me, Rainbow,” Cadance said softly. “I’m not judging you, remember, I only want to know; would you have told Twilight to keep researching, even though she knew there was no hope of ever finding a solution?”

Rainbow sat, her gaze fixed on Cadance’s neck without actually seeing anything at all. Eventually she sighed. “I don’t know. I guess we would have had to tell him, eventually… I don’t think we ought to keep lying to him.”

“I agree,” Cadance said with a nod. “Holding that back… that wouldn’t be healthy for any of your relationships.”

She waited for Cadance to say more, a certain empty, hollow feeling in her chest dragging her down, but Cadance let the silence drag on and on, as she scribbled something on her scroll with a bit of a frown—her tongue was even sticking out of her lips as she concentrated. Finally, she broke it: “Aren’t you going to ask me about expanding the herd?”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Cadance said, her eyes flicking to Rainbow in a way that told her that the princess had probably been hoping she’d be the one to bring it up, rather than Cadance forcing the topic.

“I assumed we would,” Rainbow grumbled, crossing her forelegs and frowning at the newspaper left on the coffee table.

“I think I understand that you’re concerned for your stallion—even if your stallion’s a human,” Cadance murmured. “I think, perhaps, you’re underestimating his strength, though. However, what I am curious about is this: you must know by now that Lero is, in his heart, a monogamous individual. Why did you insist on having a full bodied herd?”

“I didn’t want to be selfish,” Rainbow said simply, shrugging. Why else would a mare keep a stallion all to herself?

“I see,” Cadance said noncommittally

“I don’t expect you to understand, though.” The words just slipped out of Rainbow’s mouth. They would have been rude, even if she wasn’t talking to a Princess.

“Not understa–” Cadance’s confused expression turned to one of understanding. “You think I’m monogamous?”

“Everypony does.” Perhaps not everypony, but Cadance and Shining had never really been a proper herd—you needed somepony to share with, really, even if ponies often referred to young couples as herds. To make matters worse, the two of them had gotten married in the most public and loudest way possible. Now, several years on, the duo had never made so much as a hint that they were looking for somepony else. And they’ve been trying to get pregnant.

“I… suppose I could see why we might give the impression, yes,” Cadance said, sounding a bit frustrated and unhappy. “I assure you we’re not. It’s just…” Cadance took a deep breath and went through the breathing exercise that Rainbow was so familiar with Twilight doing. “If you really must know, Rainbow, after the changelings, it’s become very difficult for us to trust anypony, to have that sort of relationship that might bloom into a romantic one.”

“Oh.” Rainbow felt her face heat up. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, Rainbow.” Cadance said with a bit of a frown, shaking her head. “So you didn’t want to be selfish. What did Lero make of it?”

“He was a bit surprised, I guess, I mean, back home—where he’s from—every human is monogamous.” Rainbow shrugged. “But he was okay with it.”

“What makes you think he couldn’t be okay with the herd including another stallion, then?” Cadance said, her voice gentle without any of the anger Rainbow had feared, given her response to her accusations. “He’s adapted greatly, right? Even including just Twilight would be unusual for him.”

“I guess, but… I don’t buy it, I know he’s been hurt by all this,” Rainbow shook her head, recalling the scene from the day before. “I mean, he’s so friendly all the time—hay, sometimes he’s more of a pony than we ponies are! And he lashed out at Dust Tempest, and, well. I mean you’ve heard all this.”

Cadance nodded, encouraging Rainbow to go on.

“He’s bent, like me—he’s only into mares—well, I suppose, uh, women too… um.” Rainbow frowned.

“I understand, yes. But—and I made this point to your husband—it isn’t as if he’d be required to do anything he wasn’t comfortable with, with this hypothetical stallion.” Cadance paused and wrote something else in her notes, although Rainbow couldn’t imagine what. “I can’t imagine Lyra or Twilight forcing you to have sex with them, if you didn’t really want it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Rainbow said, sighing. “So, what? You think we ought to do it anyway?” It came out more accusing than she intended, but she didn’t really care. “Just start dating somepony and hope Lero adjusts?”

“Dating anyone new, bringing them into an existing relationship—or existing set of relationships, is always going to be difficult, and always going to require adjustment.” Cadance smiled slightly at her. “As, I’m sure, you know from experience. But no, I’m suggesting that perhaps you need to consider that it isn’t as insurmountable as you seem to believe, Rainbow.”

Rainbow frowned at that, disagreeing. Cadance didn’t know Lero like she did, and never would. He needed protection—her protection, she supposed, since she wasn’t sure if Twilight really would. With a sinking feeling, she found herself wondering whether she should have fought to keep control of her herd. She wasn’t a politician or skilled in the art of manipulating ponies, like Rarity. She knew she couldn’t control the herd from the rear, as much as she might like to, and what if Twilight decided to force the issue in a few months? What would she do then? Perhaps she’d have to take Lero and break herd.

You can’t do that! A voice in her head snapped at her, instantly making her feel guilty. They’re your friends! Your wives, no less! You’ve been through hell and back!

What about Lero? Rainbow thought back, not at all bothered by the notion she was talking to herself. What about him? He needs my protection, more so than they do! They’re big girls, they can look after themselves!

Maybe, but it’d break their hearts—and Lero’s, I imagine. The voice quieted for a moment. Where would we go? Would you run off and form another herd? Stay monogamous?

Oh shut up! Rainbow snapped.

Maybe you should try being a bit loyal to your herdmates, wives and husband, the voice whispered back. And trust them.

“Rainbow?” Cadance said, drawing Rainbow out of her thoughts. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, fine, sorry.” Rainbow shook her head. “I zoned out for a moment.”

“That’s fine,” Cadance said, scribbling something more onto the scroll. “I was just saying, I think you could call everypony back. I wanted to talk to everypony at once.”

“Oh.” Rainbow slid off her perch and onto the floor, then frowned at Cadance, who was now furiously scribbling away. “What the hell are you writing, anyway?”

“Oh, nothing,” Cadance said, a bit of a blush coming to her cheeks like a foal caught with her hoof in the cookie jar.

“Uh huh,” Rainbow said skeptically. “Can I see them, or is some sort of weird doctor mumbo jumbo about not sharing notes with the patient?”

Cadance laughed by way of an answer, and floated them over to Rainbow. They weren’t notes at all, but rather doodles. Of all manner. One featured a really awesome picture of herself, wings flared as someone—Lero, she thought—hid behind her. Another featured a outline of a stallion with a question mark on his rear. There were others, too: Rainbow’s eyes grew wide as she flicked took them all in, including a few of which that weren’t exactly… well, she had her magazines over the years, that was for sure.

“I don’t actually need to take notes, but I find drawing helps keep my focus,” Cadance said, apparently looking over Rainbow’s shoulder, having came up behind her. “I’m particularly fond of that one.” She added, pointing what appeared to be two stallions… fucking.

“Y-yeah.” Rainbow felt her cheeks heating up and her wings twitched. “I can see why—is… is that Twi’s brother?” Rainbow added, as she thought she recognized the… well, the bottom.

“Yes, yes it is.” Cadance tittered.

“Then who’s….”

“Oh, that’s me,” Cadance shook her head with a sly grin on her face. “It’s amazing what spells you can find if you really go looking.”

“That’s you?” Rainbow said, sidestepping away from Cadance to put some room between them. “He doesn’t look too,” she hesitated, looking for the proper word. “Comfortable.”

"We both learned something that day." Cadance giggled, a hint of a blush on her cheeks. "More lube.”

Rainbow stared at her for a moment, her blush intensifying as, uninvited, certain images pranced into her head. After a second she shook them off. “Uh, right. You… you probably shouldn’t tell Twilight that.” She broke her gaze and coughed. “I’ll be back with everypony in a few minutes.”

***

Twilight followed the herd into the room, somewhat ironically bringing up the rear, despite her supposed new position in the herd’s hierarchy. The idea vaguely amused her, for a moment, although after a second—partly due to her staring at Lero’s butt—she wondered if it might not be beneficial for her to write a book, for her husband. A sort of Xenophile’s Guide to Equestria. Perhaps it would help Lero if she sat down and explained things.

Cadance was seemingly right where they had left her, curling up in the chair opposite the couch, and as before the lot of them trotted over to it and on or next to it. Perhaps it was Twilight’s imagination, but there seemed to be almost a bit of a distance between Rainbow, Lyra and herself. And Lero, truth be told. What had Cadance talked to them about? Had it upset them so badly that they weren’t feeling as comfortable with one another anymore?

“So… what do you think, Cadance?” Lyra asked, drawing Twilight’s attention back to the den.

Cadance had lost her notes along the way, it seemed, although she was still twirling the quill in her magic as she frowned at it thoughtfully—she started, as if surprised by Lyra, and then smiled at them, a professional sort of smile, rather than the warmer sort Twilight was used to seeing on her lips.

“Well, I talked to each of you—more or less—individually, and I think I know where everypony—everyone, pardon—stands.” Cadance said slowly, her smile slipping slightly.

“Do you think we can fix this?” Twilight said, matching her frown with one of her own. They had to fix it. For Celestia’s sake, they were married!

“Perhaps,” Cadance said.

Twilight’s stomach felt like it was suddenly filled with lead. It wasn’t a ‘yes’, it wasn’t an ‘absolutely’, it was perhaps. A maybe. As if she didn’t know whether it could be saved or not, whether or not they could move beyond it.

Of course, that might not be the end of it; as she talked to Spike, she was reminded, strongly, of a thought she’d had years and years ago, about how she wanted to do better with her own herd, she didn’t want it to break apart like it had for her mother and father… they were still a herd, of course, but Twilight wasn’t so naive enough to think that they were truly a herd, on some levels. It seemed, really, only her father’s boundless capacity for love—and, admittedly, her mother’s iron will and lack of desire to bend—had held the herd together at all.

“I think it would be helpful for you, as a herd, to talk to a professional, at least semi regularly,” Cadance continued. “It could be me, or somepony else, who’s more local, but I understand that you’re all a bit reluctant to do so—and I thank you again for allowing me the opportunity to try and help.”

Her sister-in-law paused, frowning first at her quill, then at Lero. “Lero, keeping in mind you can say no, would you mind if I told them what you told me?”

There was a pause, and Twilight watched her husband’s face as it worked through a number of emotions, all too quickly and perhaps slightly too alien for Twilight to follow. Then he slowly shook his head.

Cadance looked mildly surprised, although she masked it well.

“No, I’d rather say it myself,” Lero said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “Girls, look, I’m… I’m not a very good husband—I know you disagree, but when I look at you, and when I look at myself… there’s a world of difference, you know?” Lero shook his head. “Can you honestly say, if I was just a normal pony, that I’d be on your…‘level’?”

“That’s not really how it works, Lero.” Twilight frowned. “I mean, I wasn’t always a Princess, and I don’t think you’re saying that now that I’m ‘important’ that I ought to go and find other ponies to love and care about.”

“Yeah! Like, come on Big guy,” Rainbow punched Lero lightly in the shoulder. “You don’t need to be a Wonderbolt or whatever.”

“No, but look at me, I don’t excel at anything.” Lero shook his head. “I know you don’t like hearing it, but it’s true—I’m not even a good husband or herd stallion, by your standards, am I?”

“Lero,” Cadance said softly but firmly. “Remember what we talked about, about self recriminations?”

“I know, Cadance, I do.” Lero sighed heavily. “Girls, I want to be better. I’m not perfect, by a long shot, I want to work on my hang ups, and be the sort of pony—even if I’m human—that I ought to be.” Lero looked down at his hands. “That I ought to be for ponies as amazing as you three.”

Twilight crawled up onto the couch and hugged him firmly, joined by her herd sisters and beloved wives. He was stiff, for a moment, then relaxed under their bodies, his arms reaching out and encircling them all in the way only he could. Then he tensed up again.

“But…” Lero said slowly, and sadly. “I think it’s only fair to admit that I’m probably monogamous at heart. Twilight, Lyra. I’m sorry, but it’s the truth. I do love you, never doubt that, never doubt my commitment to you, but sometimes it makes things hard...and at the end of the day, I’d be perfectly happy with just one of you, and never want anything more.” Lero sighed. “So… with that in mind… if you feel this isn’t working, isn’t going to work, and you want to leave and find some other stallion and build the lives you deserve with them—you can do so. I won’t hold it against you.”

Against her side, Rainbow tensed.

She couldn’t imagine the element bearer of loyalty being too happy with them upping and leaving, but…

For a brief moment, Twilight entertained the thought. It would be easier, Lyra and her setting out on their own; Twilight turned her head and glanced at the mint green mass on the other side of Rainbow’s body, wondering what she was thinking. In truth, Rainbow and Lero had often been neglectful, which was partly what caused the whole fight to begin with, on some level. She knew they didn’t mean it maliciously, on purpose. But it still happened, and it still hurt. They could go, find some stallion—maybe even Dust, if he’d have them, and… build a life together.

But she had already built a life, here, with her herd, with her wives and husband who she loved. Twilight crushed the thought.

“Thank you, Lero,” Twilight said, gently, keeping her voice light and making sure no notes of horror could creep into it. “But… I think I speak for all of us when I say we’d like to at least fight for you. If you want to work on this, then I want to be there, to help you. I think you’re wonderful already, but... “ Twilight smiled sheepishly. “I can understand the drive to self improve, if nothing else.”

Lyra and Rainbow murmured in agreement, before adding their own comments, although Twilight didn’t really pay that close attention; she was looking over her shoulder at Cadance, who was openly grinning at the lot of them. Whether it was because of the scene they were making on the couch, or their words and promises. They were going to move forward together.

They weren’t healed, but they were healing.

***

Months went by, and with surprising quickness, the late winter turned to early spring, and the five of them—sometimes six, since Twilight wanted to ensure Spike was included too—continued to meet with Cadance regularly. Sometimes they met with her in their home, other times they took a weekend and headed out to the Crystal Empire. Princesses traveled free, after all, and while it might have been a bit of a hassle, it was, by general consensus, worth it. Not that it was always easy. There were tears and anger, ideas and misconceptions were broken down. They probably had more fights than they had ever had before, but, paradoxically, they felt closer together than before, too.

As a group, they met with, and made up, with Dust Tempest, although he was more than willing to move on. The media was less forgiving, but it wasn’t the first time Twilight had been in the media spotlight, and probably wouldn’t be the last; her herdmates, especially Lero, suffered more so than her. As for Dust, they wished him luck, and Twilight promised to write to him. There was no reason, they agreed—some of them more reluctantly than others, that they couldn’t be friends. Eventually he got a job teaching, oddly enough, in the Crystal Empire.

As the Springforward passed and summer days sprung up, so too did announcements of who had gotten pregnant. Normally a joyful time, and it still was, but when Rarity announced hers, it hurt. It hadn’t been the first time somepony they knew had announced a pregnancy, but it was particularly close to home, and Twilight found it a particularly bitter pill to swallow—and she wasn’t the only one. That sparked a fight, a bad one, and Twilight thought for sure they’d break up. But they didn’t. Cadance lost her foal that week, and it ended up that she was the one in need of their love and support, which, oddly, helped them with their own struggles.

That month had also brought a rather awkward and upsetting dinner with Rainbow Dash’s mother, and her herd. Twilight knew the mare was probably interested in her former-now-current herdmate’s daughter’s relationship with the Crowns of Equestria, and did her best not to make a scene. In the end, though, it had been Rainbow Dash who lost her head. There might have been a fight in that, too, had Rainbow’s mother not shown up at their hotel in tears. Updraft, it seemed, wasn’t the forgiving sort. A few weeks later, the whole herd exploded, a painful and cogent reminder of their own issues—at least in Twilight’s opinion. Both events put things into perspective, maybe. They healed a bit more, after them.

Over the summer, Lero decided he wanted to go back to school. It was a bit of a surprise, but they all supported him—not that he needed to ask. It was a bit odd, watching Cheerilee tutor him day after day, but eventually he moved beyond the basics of Equestrian education. He wanted to make something of himself, and in truth, Twilight wasn’t sure what that would be, especially when he had no magic of his own. It had taken some work, but she had managed to get him a private tutor, one that visited every other weekend, although lately Lero had been traveling to Canterlot to spend time with the tutor.. A year ago, Twilight wasn’t sure she could imagine her husband traveling anywhere on his own. It seemed healing and moving on had caused him to grow up, too.

Then, at summer’s end, they lost their home.

That hurt, too, perhaps Twilight herself more so than anypony else, because it was her home, the Golden Oaks, that had been mostly damaged in Tirek’s attack, and it had been somewhere with a lot of meaning for her. Of course, she gained a new place, and while nice, it didn’t feel quite like home—but having her herd there helped. Maybe one day it would feel like home again.

Life went on.

Twilight sighed as she stared at the peak of her tree house castle thing, only barely visible from her vantage point at the Le Bon Foin. Cloudsdale was rapidly approaching, she knew, and there was already a nip in the air; soon it’d be too uncomfortable to be sitting around outside. Across from her, glaring at a piece of cake as if it was committing some great personal offense to her, sat a rather heavily pregnant Rarity. Her friend was still some months away from actually giving birth, but one wouldn’t know, from the way she complained about it.

At her side, sat Lyra, who was uncharacteristically fidgeting, and Rainbow, who was looking more than a bit uncomfortable. There were only two seats open; they were waiting on Lero and somepony else. It had been nearly a year, and to their surprise, Lero had suggested somepony, a stallion he had apparently met, and asked them here. None of them knew what to think, really.

“I still can’t get over how rude those Crystal ponies were,” Rarity grumped, even as she took another bite of cake. Rarity had been hanging out with Twilight’s herd lately, and while it was a bit odd having an outsider so close to them, it was comforting too. For her part, Rarity, she suspected, was nesting—and with her own herd so far away and distant, they were a familiar and comforting presence. Twilight didn’t mind. She had accompanied them to the Crystal Empire on their most recent trip to see Cadance, and had overheard somepony suggesting she was a bit on the heavy side, these days.

And she had been going on about it non-stop, so Twilight nodded comfortingly as she forced herself to stop watching the road.

“Are you sure you three want me here, dears?” Rarity asked suddenly, apparently abandoning her urge to complain about their uncouth cousins to the north. “I know I’ve been imposing upon you all for a while now—for which I’m eternally grateful—but if you want privacy…”

“No, it’s fine, Rarity.” Lyra said, reaching over and patting the soon-to-be-mother on her hoof. “This isn’t really a date, to begin with. Just Lero introducing us to one of his new friends.”

Certainly not a date, no, but Lero had insisted they at least look at his friend as if he might be one. He had brought it up in the last meeting with Cadance, much to Cadance’s pleasure and their surprise—especially since he was being so mysterious over the friend’s identity. Months of counseling with Cadance had unfortunately rubbed off on her husband, and he had a bit of a flare for the dramatic romance now, it seemed.

She had also suggested they bring a friend, to provide a sort of buffer and keep the interaction less awkward.

A sidelong glance at Rarity made Twilight wonder if her friend was going to talk about her various aches and pains and intimate issues with being pregnant and make it awkward anyway.

Rarity caught her eye and grinned shyly, as if she could read Twilight’s mind, and opened it to say something—only to gasp in surprise. “Oh, well there’s Lero and—oh my!”

Twilight turned to look at the pair approaching up the street from behind much of the herd. Did he plan that? Perhaps… There was Lero, alright, catching her eye and waving at her. It took her a moment to glance at the stallion next to him—only to blink in surprise as she realized it wasn’t a pony, but rather a zebra—although still a stallion.

“Greetings,” the zebra said; his voice was deep and he spoke with a faintly rhythmic accent, although she hoped he didn’t rhyme all the time like Zecora did.

“Hey everypony,” Lero said, ruffling Rainbow’s hair and hugging Twilight awkwardly, given their difference in height. “This is my tutor, Eshb Akhdur.”

“Your tutor?” Twilight said, frowning, moreso at Lero than the new stallion, who looked faintly bemused by their expressions—something told her that Lero had been more upfront with him while keeping the rest of them in the dark. She had never met Lero’s tutor, for various reasons—mostly due to her own work and such. He had hired him on reputation, and so far hadn’t been disappointed.

“Not what you were expecting, sadiq?” Eshb Akhdur said with a throaty chuckle. “Perhaps I ought to bow and present for a Great Spirit of these Lands.”

Twilight’s face coloured. Oh, he was a zebra alright—they typically referred to alicorns as such rather than as Princesses. “No, no, that’s fine, I suppose I was just expecting… well, a pony named Green Grass.” That had been who she hired, after all.

“Ah, yes.” Eshb grinned. “A deception, I suppose, upon my shoulders; tis a translation of my name from tongue to tongue—many unicorns would not trust a zebra to teach, I wager, so I hide behind masks... “ he frowned slightly. “By the time it is revealed, my work speaks for itself. Usually.”

“Of course,” Twilight said, frowning slightly at the implication of prejudice, but shook herself. “Well, I’m glad to meet you, finally, Mr. Akhdur!”

“Yeah,” Rainbow said, hopping out of her chair and flaring her wings. “Lero talks a lot about you—well, what you’re teaching him, I guess. Don’t understand a word of it, but he seems happy,” Rainbow smiled in a way that suggested that anyone who made her stallion happy was okay in her books.

Twilight glanced at Lero, as Lyra and Rarity introduced themselves, and he caught her eye with a bit of a smirk.

“Do I know how to pick’em or what?”

Twilight giggled into her hoof, and prepared to order. Perhaps this wouldn’t go anywhere, perhaps this Eshb Akhdur would become just a friend. Yet, it was Lero who had made the effort here, trying, once more, to adapt and adopt their culture as if it was his own. Even if it all fell apart, Twilight could appreciate that. It just made her love him more.

Author's Note

Over a year ago, I said I'd make an attempt to write a new final chapter to fix--or try to fix, the underlying issues that people had with how the story ended-- reopening the story from complete to incomplete about a year after it had been published.

I wish I could say it took me a year to write this chapter, but truthfully I stalled and stalled hard. It wasn't that I didn't have some idea about what might happen, rather I struggled, greatly, to figure out how to put it in such a way that would allow the fic to move forward over a long period of them working on their issues, without being dragged down in the minutiae of people working on relationship issues like rational adults. However, I've been reading a lot of other fanfics, and a few, like 'The Pony who lived upstairs' helped shape my thinking on how to write this.

Of course, much of the motivation comes form Cogwheelbrain, although it's possible they might not find this ending as enjoyable. It's hard to believe most of this chapter didn't exist two weeks ago.

I'd also like to thank Alamais, and Archonix, for helping preread/edit it.

As I said, I'd rather the ending be somewhat open; what happens next, that's up to you. Maybe they the herd on whole takes a shine to this Zebra and ends up bringing him in. Maybe they have many stripey butted children--or maybe not. Maybe Lero finally admits he loves another guy and loses his butt-ginity to Eshb Akhbdur--or maybe that definitely happens .

In case you're wondering, yes, the name and inspiration is a reference to Georg's excellent, fantastical character Green Grass. Hopefully Georg won't hate me overly much for this.