97.

Style: Pony

Pairing: Twilestia

Rating: Teen

Apologies

The letters became few, like a mighty river drying to a trickle in the midst of a drought. Celestia was worried. She was always worried for her student, so faithful and dependable, but this worry was vain.

A summons was sent and just as she feared not only had the letters dwindled but the sparkle in Twilight’s eyes had dimmed. She was excited, yes, to have been called by her teacher to the palace, but it was done so with the pretense of another emergency.

What is it this time, was heard in “how can I help you, Princess,” and when the debriefing was done, bows and goodnights were offered, so very perfunctory.

Seven days would pass before the task needed to be tended to, and it had been brought to Celestia’s attention that Twilight had been sulking for four of them.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Celestia asked immediately, using her authority -more motherly than royal- to slip her way into Twilight’s room.

“I didn’t think you cared.” Twilight relinquished into the dark room. Neither bothered to light the candles around the living space.

“How could you ever think that?” Her heart hammered behind her chest. She was a bit surprised it remembered how to behave when nervous beyond comfort.

Celestia could feel the words on Twilight’s lips because they hung in the air, suspended like thin wires not even her millennial grace could completely tread.

“Because you sent me away.”

Tears flowed, watering the seeds of both hurt and healing as more words were whispered into the night.

A hug, so warm, so few and far apart for those two beings in respect to age, was more than welcomed.

Then a kiss, so dangerous, so freeing and confining for these two mares in respect to daily role, was more than welcomed.

And an apology stung Twilight’s skin in accord to the soft but searing lips that intended to make her melt. Over and over again, the apology landed. On her cheek, under her ear, on the nap of her neck, on the newly exposed slope of her shoulder.

The apology followed them to the bed, and was not only branded into Twilight but returned to the princess.

Misunderstandings, silly misunderstands, and hidden feelings, and things kept unsaid, were brought to light in the shadow of the room. They fumbled through the dark like the hooves that caressed with the same apology as the lips.

I’m so sorry, was pressed into the trembling expanse of Twilight’s stomach.

I didn’t mean to upset you, quivered into Celestia’s ear as nervous hooves dove between goddess flesh.

In the morning, before the sun was risen but too far into the night to still be considered so, Celestia roused from the tangled embrace that kept her warmer than her precious celestial responsibility.

One last kiss found her student’s lips, gently to keep her slumbering and without the apology tangled between. Celestia looked down to the peaceful face, to find all traces of sadness wiped away. She couldn’t see the sparkle but she was sure of glow that haloed her body.

When the task was done and Twilight returned to her friends in Ponyville, Celestia was glad to see that the drought had passed.

Twilight still needed Celestia, and Celestia still needed her.