Sunlit Skies

by Arcanist Ascendant

Rating: everyone
Tags: Slice of Life, Sunset Shimmer, Twilight Sparkle, Main 6, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Romance
Length: 13849

Twilight loves Sunset. Now, if only either of them knew what that meant.

Twilight Sparkle loves Sunset Shimmer.
Unfortunately, neither of them understand what that means.

Fluff. Edited by Zaid ValRoa. I would not say that the prequel is required reading, but it would probably wouldn't hurt.

Published 2015-06-07 18:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2015-08-18 22:30:15 UTC

Chapter I

Twilight Sparkle was panicking. She wished she could claim that this was not an ordinary state of affairs.

The fields of Equestria rolled on beneath the rising morning sun. From her vantage point in the foothills of the Crystal Mountains, the sky stretched on without clouds for miles. She had never seen a bluer sky. Far in the distance behind her, the mountains loomed, mournful glaciers perched high above the treeline. She had been surprised to find that the soil was fertile this far to the north. Even in the winter, ponies tended their fields with care, turning to gaze at the train as it clattered down the rails.

Twilight would have loved nothing more than to be out in that enormous sky, continuing to practice flight. Unfortunately, she was more than a little stuck at the moment. While in her short life she had been in many awkward positions, she’d never had the privilege of being a living teddy bear before. At least, not until two nights ago, when it began happening with alarming frequency.

Although... she mused, maybe it’s not so bad. The swaying rhythm of the train had lulled the mare sitting beside her to sleep. The sunlight caught her mane as she breathed, chest rising and falling gently. Presently, the train hit a larger-than normal bump and the entire car clattered and shook. Sunset Shimmer stirred, mumbling as she woke, and at length opened bleary eyes. She looked tired, but nonetheless grinned upon catching sight of Twilight.

“G’morning,” she yawned, apparently untroubled by the terribly designed wooden seats in the train. Of course, she had been supported more by Twilight than the bench; it was possible that she was a comfortable couch as well as a princess, now.

“It’s well past noon.”

“Not having homework to do or magical theses to write means I get to sleep in for the first time in, well, ever. I mean, it won’t last, but I do plan to enjoy it for as long as I can. And I was just so comfortable,” Sunset said as she curled even closer to Twilight, whose heart was hammering in her throat. Her head turned away from the shock of ruby mane to stare out at the Equestrian countryside once more.

Twilight loved Sunset. She really did. Or, at least, she thought she did, and shouldn’t that be good enough? If not, how could she explain the warm, fuzzy feeling that suffused throughout her entire body whenever they were together? She had never felt that way before that cold night, walking with Sunset Shimmer through the frozen forest. The scientist in her screamed that correlation need not imply causation, but when it came to matters of friendship, that voice had been wrong quite often.

And yet, somehow, something still didn’t feel right. Two days ago romance had been the absolute last thing on her mind. Now here she was, cuddling with a mare on her way back home. It was all too rushed, too fast. Twilight needed time to understand exactly how she felt, and she felt like Sunset wasn’t giving her a moment’s rest. As much as Twilight loved spending time with the mare, the only time she had been alone since Sunset’s return was when she slept, and even that, Twilight imagined, might not last long. No matter how hard Twilight tried not to worry while they were together, she felt as if she needed time to reorder her life.

No matter how desperately Twilight needed space, she still could not bring herself to ask Sunset to leave her alone, if only for a short while. Twilight had spent hours lying awake imagining how that scenario would conclude, and in her mind it always ended with a look of poorly-hidden betrayal on Sunset’s face. By her own admission, Sunset Shimmer had been alone for her entire life. Only Twilight and Princess Celestia had ever shown her a modicum of kindness, and in the latter’s case Sunset hadn’t been in a position to appreciate it. Sunset needed Twilight now, and there was no way she would be so selfish as to turn away just because the affection made her uncomfortable.

“Are you lost in thought?” Sunset asked, sounding amused. Twilight often forgot just how well they had gotten to know each other in such a short time.

Twilight tore her gaze away from a patch of particularly interesting clouds, instead looking around the car. Tan plaster and floral designs constituted most of the car, along with the most fantastically uncomfortable and useless dividers between the worst booths she ever had the misfortune to sit in. At length, she responded, “Yes, sorry. I know we were in the middle of a conversation, that was rude of me.”

“You don’t need to apologize to me for anything, you understand that, right?” Sunset responded, rubbing her nuzzle against Twilight’s withers. “Besides, I was done speaking anyway.”

Twilight stood abruptly, startling Sunset, as Twilight had been supporting much of her body weight for the past several hours. The mare fell into the seat in a tumble of vermillion mane. “Sorry!” Twilight apologized once more, “I just want to go to the caboose – I, uh, need to stretch my wings, they’ve gotten sore on the ride,” Twilight lied. She winced, knowing all too well what Applejack would say were she here. She saw, or maybe imagined, an almost imperceptible narrowing of Sunset’s eyes. Sunset was not a stupid mare, and it was fairly likely that she had seen through her flimsy excuse for leaving. It was possible, but either way she chose not to call Twilight out.

“I’ll see you in a bit, then – remember what I said about apologies!” Sunset called after her as she padded towards the rear of the train. The train was almost empty; Celestia paid for the rail line to do normal service to the Crystal Empire. It was the only reason there was a train at all, as there wasn’t anywhere near enough use of the line to justify its existence otherwise. Aside from a trio of guards that Shining Armor had insisted on, Sunset and Twilight had been alone.

As Twilight stepped out into the open air at the end of the train, there was only one question on her mind.

What am I going to do?

By the time they reached the Ponyville station, night had already fallen. The moon hung low in the sky. The stars glinted, cold and distant. Owls hooted a serenade to an audience of glowing eyes at the Everfree’s fringe. It was another cold night, but it was good to be back home.

Ponyville was empty and silent. Light spilled from windows here and there, but it was the hour of the wolf, and most ponies were well and truly asleep. None of their friends were present to greet the couple; Twilight had told them to expect her tomorrow afternoon. She needed to talk to them, to get help understanding how she felt. She just couldn’t, not tonight. She needed some sleep to organize her thoughts. Besides, sane ponies were asleep at this hour.

As a sharp counterpoint to Twilight’s brooding, Sunset seemed like she was attempting to take in everything there was to see at once. A gentle emerald light lit their way, bobbing along at horn-level as she took in the sights. Twilight had forgotten, for all the time they’d spent together, that Sunset had never been to Ponyville before. Her saddlebags were of golden silk – a parting gift from Cadance and Shining Armor – and held all of her meager worldly possessions. She hummed a now-familiar tune as they trotted towards the center of the town, smiling all the way.

“What is that song? You seem fond of it,” Twilight asked. While she was genuinely interested, she spoke primarily because the silence had stretched uncomfortably long.

Sunset stopped humming immediately, a slight blush of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. “If it’s annoying you, I’ll stop,” she replied, concerned.

“No, I really didn’t mean that! If there was a problem I would have said something. It just sounded nice and I was curious,” Twilight said, noting ruefully that there was a problem that Sunset could help her with that Twilight still hadn’t asked her about.

“I do forget sometimes that not every question is supposed to have a double meaning. I had just gotten so used to the constant questions about me and my, er, tantrum, that every time anypony asks me anything, it just seems like a challenge,” she explained, paused for just long enough to get a strange, contemplative look in her eye, then continued. “But anyway, it’s just a silly song I learned from some fillies at the – oh, wow, look at that.”

They had reached the center of Ponyville. The Golden Oaks Library stood before them, all dark save a single candle in Twilight’s bedroom window.

“I guess, when you described your home as a tree house, I imagined it as a little shack balanced on the branch of an oak tree – you know, like a foal would have in a backyard. Not this – this is beautiful,” Sunset said, looking up at her new home with awe evident in her eyes.

Twilight smiled for the first time in hours. “It’s definitely not that kind of treehouse, I assure you. For one thing, neither rain nor rodents will be a concern during your stay. I suspect Spike has been up all night waiting for us, even though I told him we’d be late, so we should get inside and let him get some rest.”

Sunset frowned as they started towards the front door. “Hold on – I thought you said that you didn’t tell anypony you’d be coming back tonight? How could Spike be expecting us?”

“Celestia could send me letters wherever I was without dragonfire, so after my coronation, I asked her to teach me her spell. I sent him mail to let him know we’d be back earlier than expected. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to sound like I was bragging.”

Sunset whistled in appreciation. “That’s impressive. I won’t make a big deal about it, since you don’t seem interested in talking about it,” she said as Twilight pushed open the library door. “You’re very humble. It’s one of your most admirable qualities, and one I’m still working on emulating.”

The room was completely dark, save the shining of Sunset’s verdigris magelight. The shelves that they could see were in perfect array, though several stacks of tomes were lying, neatly arranged, in the center of the room. One such heap was moving, seemingly under its own power, towards a wall. The movement stopped suddenly, the pile of books lowered itself to the ground, and a small figure hurried across the floor with the sound of claws over wood.

“Twilight! Welcome back. And, hey, Sunset, it’s been a while. You look a bit, heh, shorter than the last time I saw you.”

Sunset chuckled. “Very funny, Spike. How have you been?” Her eyes darted around the room, savoring the sight of shelves stuffed with books. It was so easy for Twilight to forget that Sunset Shimmer was the only pony who was anywhere near as nerdy as she was herself. Their only difference was that Sunset did a better job of hiding it.

“Oh, great, thanks for asking,” Spike said, pausing briefly before he addressed Twilight. He had deep bags under his eyes. “Twilight, I got out that extra bed Applejack and Rarity used that one time, I figured you might want it.”

She hadn’t even thought of that. “Thanks, Spike. You didn’t tell the girls about my letter, did you?” When Spike shook his head, Twilight continued, “Go get some rest, dawn isn’t too far off.” Spike obliged, stumbling through the shadowy room on his way to bed, but Twilight wasn’t quite ready to follow him.

“Tea?” Twilight suggested to the other mare as she moved into the kitchen. “Spike snores until he’s well and truly asleep. If we go up after he stops, he won’t wake us up with snoring, and we won’t wake him up with talking. Everypony wins.”

“Tea does sound good,” Sunset admitted. “I never used to be fond of it, but after... well, after my episode I’ve been finding myself enjoying it here and there. Do you have ginseng?”

Twilight nodded as they entered the kitchen, pulling tea bags and mugs out of a cupboard and lifting the tea kettle off the fireplace crane. Sunset fired green sparks at a pair of candle sconces, eliciting a nervous look from Twilight. These candles burned far more brightly than they had any logical right to, allowing Sunset to dispel her magelight while the room remained reasonably lit. It was a small room, and cozy; no larger than it had to be. Shelves and cabinets were kept in perfect order, even though Twilight had been away for days. She’d have to thank Spike for that later. Twilight indicated the tiny table in the corner to Sunset, who dragged her hooves walking to it. Fatigue was evident in her eyes, and Twilight wondered if perhaps they should have just gone to bed, never mind Spike’s snoring.

After Twilight filled the kettle with water, Sunset motioned from her seat towards it with a golden hoof. “Give that here, let me at least be of some use,” she requested as she ensnared the kettle in a glow of emerald light.

Twilight saw no reason to object, so all she said was, “Remember, whatever you do, this is a wood house.” Sunset Shimmer did not deign to respond. Instead, she channeled more magic into her horn, nearly heating the metal to incandescence. It began whistling in a matter of seconds, and Sunset immediately stopped. “Don’t touch that,” she advised.

“Wasn’t planning to,” Twilight murmured, impressed. “You know, you aren’t too shabby yourself, when it comes to magic,” Twilight spoke as she poured the boiling water into two mugs along with the tea. She could feel the heat of the metal through the air.

“Not really,” Sunset muttered. “I’m not as good as I’d hoped, whatever the case may be. I think I might just be out of practice; I used to be far better with magic, especially fire and heat-related things.”

And you think you aren’t modest, Twilight reflected. She procured a sugar bowl with telekinesis as spooned some of the fine powder into her mug. She stirred the water absentmindedly as the tea steeped, looking out the room’s window to the town beyond. The gloom of night was so thick she could barely make out the houses closest to hers, but she knew the sun would be rising soon. Sunset was warming her hooves on the mug she had been given, looking content. It was exceedingly pleasant to sit there in silence with Sunset Shimmer. With all the shock of the past few days, Twilight had nearly forgotten that she enjoyed the other mare’s company, just sitting together as friends.

After a few minutes had passed, the silence was broken.

“Twilight?”

“Hm?”

“Do you ever feel like...” she began, then trailed off. She fidgeted with her mug, restless – clearly something was eating at her. She took a long sip of the tea, as if trying to put off what she needed to say as long as possible. All the while, she avoided Twilight’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how to put this into words. I guess what I’m trying to say is, do you ever have trouble, uh, ‘getting’, ponies?” Not knowing how to react, Twilight remained silent. When she failed to respond, Sunset went on.

“Well, I do. I mean, I always used to. When I was a filly, ponies, usually Celestia, kept telling me that I was doing things that might hurt other ponies’ feelings, but I couldn’t understand what she meant. It was almost as if they were always just things, not ponies like me – with feelings, I mean. They all had a unique name and behaved in a unique way, but that wasn’t enough to make them... real, I suppose, to me. I thought nothing of it if I did something malicious and somepony else was hurt or took the blame.”

She paused for a second to take another draught of tea, then continued. She had finally gathered the courage to look Twilight in the eye. “And then you came along. When I was hit by the Elements of Harmony, it... it hurt; it hurt more than anything I’d ever felt in my life. I replayed everything I’d ever done to wrong somepony else in my mind all at once, and for the first time I understood the suffering I brought into other ponies’ lives. I don’t even think I was capable of guilt before then, it’s all so hazy now – but what I felt then, the grief, the regret; that was real, I’m sure of it.

“As soon as I realized that other ponies had feelings just like me, I knew that they would hate me as much as I hated myself. I wanted to take it all back, but that was impossible. Anything I might have done to right my wrongs would be too little, too late. And then you lifted me out of the crater. You showed me something beautiful and alien – compassion,” she sighed. Her gaze was growing ever more intense, but Twilight did not turn away. “And I think you saved my life. Don’t say ‘it was nothing’, because it really wasn’t.” Twilight had, in fact, been just about to say exactly that. “And ever since then I’ve been trying to live up to your example, but it’s still hard for me to understand how ponies feel sometimes. So, please, could you please just tell me what I’m doing wrong? Because I honestly don’t know what I’m supposed to do!”

Oh. Now it was Twilight’s turn to look uncomfortable. Sunset’s voice rose in pitch, suddenly frantic.

“I am doing something wrong, aren’t I? You always seem so uncomfortable when we’ve been together, like you’re ashamed of having me with you!” All at once, she looked terrified, hooves trembling, as she hung her head cradled in her hooves over the table. “Did I hurt you somehow? Do you want me to go back? Across the mirror? I’ll do it if – !”

“No!” Twilight yelped, appalled. “No, I don’t.” Sunset seemed like she was fighting back tears. Crying did not greatly improve her visage – Twilight realized long ago how much showing weakness hurt Sunset Shimmer. She had to fix this – now. She didn’t feel like anypony needed to hurt because of her.

“But – !”

“Just hold on a minute and let me speak my piece, alright? You’ve said yours already, so it’s fair. Can you promise that you won’t talk about running away until you’ve heard what I have to say?” Sunset gave her hesitant assent, and Twilight took a deep breath, choosing her next words with care.

“I’m just as scared as you. I’m just as new to this as you. I wanted to take this slowly, but I was afraid that if I told you I needed space you’d think I was trying to get rid of you. That’s why I stayed quiet – apparently that didn’t work out, since this happened anyway, and that’s entirely my fault. But the reason I’ve been a little distant isn’t because I don’t like you, because that’s not true. I’m just confused. I think we both are, really. It’s a lot to take in at once. I’ve had crushes before, of course, but the way I feel now isn’t just that. Problem is, I don’t know what it is yet.” She smiled what she hoped was an encouraging smile, trying to disarm the situation. “Like I said. I don’t know what it is. All I know is, it’s a feeling so powerful that it managed to overcome my fear of the unknown.

“And I really do care about you, I’ve just scared of such a huge change. Did I ever tell you, I used to plan out my month to the hour, even prescribing a few hour’s worth of time to write a plan for the next month?” Sunset let out a strangled noise, somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and Twilight stood to embrace her. “Just give me a bit of time to sort it all out, okay?”

Sunset fidgeted for a moment, sniffing. Twilight could feel her heartbeat slowing before they pulled apart and knew that she was calm. “I... suppose that’s fair. I feel a little silly for worrying so much now, really.”

"I’ve been worse. One time, I thought I was going to miss a deadline on a Friendship Report. The whole town suffered. It happens.”

Sunset giggled. The room went quiet once more. Now, however, there was no tense atmosphere that spoke of confessions to be made. After being in a state of quiet panic for more than a day, it was immensely cathartic to Twilight. A quick glance at Sunset’s face, serene and beautiful, confirmed that the other mare felt exactly the same.

Finally, it dawned on her that it was not just quiet, but completely silent. As such, there could not be a snoring dragon upstairs. Ergo, Spike was deep enough in sleep that they could go upstairs with no risk of waking him, even if they were speaking. Loathe as she was to break up such a lovely moment, they really needed to get to sleep before dawn.

“I think we should get some rest, it isn’t going to be long before the sun is up again,” she mumbled, standing. Sunset followed her lead. Leaving their mugs behind, they began to trot upstairs. Sunset no longer leaned on Twilight as they walked. Twilight was mildly surprised to find that she missed supporting her lithe frame.

“Thanks, Twilight,” Sunset muttered.

“For what?” Twilight asked, absentminded, as she pushed open the door to her room. Spike lay on his little bed in a tranquil sleep. An extra bed had been brought out, and the room looked exactly as it had years ago when Applejack and Rarity had spent a stormy night at the library. Moonlight spilled across Twilight’s bed, throwing long shadows across the rest of the room.

Sunset dropped her saddlebags at the foot of her bedstead, looking exasperated at the question. “What do you mean – ugh. Thanks for letting me be vulnerable around you, I suppose. I don’t know how to articulate – whoa!” Just before Sunset could get into her cot, Twilight yanked her into the air in a little burst of purple light. The two of them fell tangled together into Twilight’s bed.

"I’m getting awfully mixed signals here,” Sunset mumbled into the blanket. “Take it slow, or cuddles. Make up your mind.”

“I still have no idea what’s going on, but I’m tired and confused and forgive me,” Twilight replied with a little smile, her own voice muffled by Sunset’s mane. Suddenly all that fear of the unknown didn’t seem to matter quite as much. She shuffled her feathers to a more comfortable position, making herself as comfortable as possible. In fact, her action had shocked herself just as much as it probably shocked Sunset. “It’s cold out, and you had a rough moment a few minutes ago. I felt like I should thank thank you for being there for me, even though I didn’t look like I appreciated it. I hope you don’t mind, I don’t think either of us wants to be cold tonight.”

“Hmm... I’m not saying that...”

Sunset trailed off. She did not snore, thank Celestia, but her chest began to rise and fall more slowly. She relaxed, releasing tension that was so constantly present while she was awake that it had become her natural self. When she slept, she lowered the barriers she had attempted to erect around herself all her life, keeping all sympathetic contact at a safe distance. Twilight was proud to do her part tearing down those walls in the waking world.

Twilight hugged her companion close. Her mane smelled like winter flowers. Outside, the moon continued its slow fall to earth. Twilight counted stars until she could feel herself drifting into dreams.

Chapter II

The world was nothing but crimson and gold. Her half-asleep mind floundered for a second, trying to make sense of what she saw. After a moment passed, she realized that last night’s events hadn’t been a dream. Twilight smiled.

Dusty beams of light floated through the window, gilding everything it fell upon. The beautifully carved ceiling had been nigh invisible before dawn, but now she could discern every detail. She took a moment to appreciate the intricate patterns as she blinked the last vestiges of sleep from her eyes.

As gently as she could manage, Twilight extricated herself from the tangle of limbs, snorting to blow a bit of her companion’s hair out of her face. She was astonished when she managed to roll out of bed without waking Sunset Shimmer. Immediately, however, she wished that she’d never gone through the effort; it was a cold winter’s morning, even here, so far removed from the Crystal Mountains. She shivered, considering for a moment that she could just clamber back into her bed, but there was something she had to do.

There was a loose piece of paper on the ground. She couldn’t imagine how it had come to be there, but Twilight lifted it in front of her muzzle, procured a quill and an inkwell, and wrote a brief note. She left it on a bedside table where Sunset would be unable to miss it, then silently made her way downstairs. Spike rolled over in his sleep, but otherwise did not stir. She wandered past the bookshelves, still half-asleep, before pushing open her front door.

It was a crisp and cool morning, not much warmer than the previous night, but the cold had been bothering her less recently. Ponyville looked exactly like what it was; a town well and truly awake in the late morning light. Not even a blizzard could dampen the town’s spirits, and this had been a light snowfall. Ponies and birds sung alike, pegasi rearranged the sky, and earth ponies carried trade materials to work. Many ponies hailed her with friendly greetings as she walked, but she heard no cries of ‘Princess!’, no bowing, kneeling or scraping. She was immensely grateful for that.

Eventually, Twilight arrived at her destination- a building on the edge of town fashioned in likeness of a carousel. It proclaimed itself as the Carousel Boutique, and it was open, according to a sign. Twilight pushed open the door, announced by a soft tinkling of bells.

Reddish-purple curtains, all velvet, hung from every wall. Mannequins flaunted freshly-designed dresses in every corner, every angle reflected in a line of mirrors. The space should have felt like impersonal, meant only for matters of business. Perhaps it would have, were it not the life’s work of the Element of Generosity. The building could have felt like a second home, and everypony was always welcome.

“Welcome to Carousel Boutique,” a familiar voice sang from the depths of the shop, “where every – oh, darling!” Rarity interrupted herself mid-slogan to express her surprise at Twilight’s appearance verbally and with an unladylike flying hug.

“Oof! I was only gone for a few days! Hello, Rarity.” Twilight massaged the spot where Rarity’s horn had poked her, wincing.

She was very pretty, Twilight noticed. A coat of pure alabaster, impeccably groomed, broken only by a trio of diamonds on her flank. Her purple mane was masterfully styled, putting that of almost everypony Twilight had ever met to shame. Ruefully, she realized that her own mane was as boring as possible in comparison, even with her lovely coloration. Maybe she could do something about that for Sunset’s sake. It would only be fair, her mane always looks so beautiful...

“And how is dear Sunset?” Rarity asked, yanking Twilight out of her daydream. “I know the two of you didn’t start off on, shall we say, the right hoof, but you seem to have become fast friends. Was she supposed to come back with you? For the life of me, I can’t recall.”

“Sunset’s doing quite well,” Twilight dodged. “She spent the night at the library.”

“And what about you?” Rarity inquired. “Anything of interest transpire during your stay with your brother and sister-in-law? I mean, the Crystal Empire is outrageous. All those gems. Truly, truly, truly outrageous.”

“Well, yes, I suppose. I mean, yes, something happened, and I kind of need to talk about it.” She shifted her weight from one side to another nervously, trying her hardest not to pace.

“Anytime, Twilight!” Rarity surreptitiously switched the ‘Open’ sign in the window around to face indoors. “Go find somewhere to sit, I’ll be back in a moment!” she called as she wandered off into the shop.

Twilight did as she was told. There were booths along one wall, complete with curtains, a mirror, and a round seat. Twilight sat in one of them and waited, admiring a blue-green dress in the mirror that she thought might look good on Sunset.

“You know, it’s really not cold enough outside for you to be blushing quite so much!” Rarity called from another part of the shop, her voice muffled by distance. Twilight caught a glance at herself in a mirror- she really was sporting a luminous blush, probably from imagining how Sunset would look in a dress. My body continues to betray me, she mused.

“Now, I want you to tell me everything!” Rarity exclaimed in a singsong voice as she re-entered the room and sat at the booth adjacent to Twilight’s.

“Hey, Rarity, is that dress over there for sale?” she asked, waving a hoof at the gown she’d been admiring a moment ago.

Twilight had hoped, with the question, to give herself some more time to come up with a proper explanation, to forestall the barrage of Rarity’s questions. It did not work. “Oh, that? Dear, really? I could make such a masterpiece for you and your wonderful wings, but you waste your time with such an everyday item? And, good heavens, the color would not work with your coat – oh. Ohh!” A look of sudden understanding came into Rarity’s gleaming eyes.

“Wait! Wait! Hold on just one second! All the pieces have come into place! Constantly blushing? Making strange, unannounced changes to your travel plans? Looking at articles of clothing that would absolutely not work with one’s own coloration? Oh, honey, you have every sign of a pony who is in the process of eloping! Scandalous!” Rarity leaned forwards, crossing forelegs with a nigh-predatory gleam in her eye. “Do tell. Who’s the lucky maaare?!”

Twilight fidgeted for a moment, feeling the flush in her cheeks transform into an even brighter crimson. “Or stallion,” she meekly suggested.

To her credit, Rarity did not laugh. “Or stallion,” she conceded, though she did not seem to believe it was a great possibility. That’s hardly fair, thought Twilight. How did she know? I didn’t know!

Well, she was going to find out about Sunset eventually. I mean, it’s why I came here in the first place, why did I bother putting it off? She sighed inwardly, then began, finally, to explain. “Well, you know how Celestia moved the Crystal Mirror back to Canterlot?” One nod. Rarity was already hanging on Twilight’s every word. Already there was a light in her eyes that might have been dawning conversation even before Twilight had shared her story. “Yeah, I suppose she thought that if enough nutjobs with dreams of world domination had a chance of getting across the mirror, they might as well go directly to the pony best able to deal with it. As much as I love my sister-in-law, that’s not Cadance. That’s off topic, though. Anyway, the story; Sunset was going to arrive at that train station they built way away from the Crystal Empire. Since it was going to be such a long walk, and I was already there visiting Shiny, I offered to escort her through the woods. And then, uh. Well,” she said, pausing. She had been avoiding looking at Rarity, but as Twilight stopped for breath she saw that the other mare was nearly catatonic with glee.

“Wait wait no n – ” Twilight started, but it was too late. Rarity had launched herself from a sitting position into a flying hug far too quickly for Twilight to react. Rarity slammed into her – thankfully not horn-first this time – squealing with delight as she flew. Twilight caught the two of them before they hit the ground, leaving them floating in the air. Thus, rather than fall to the floor, they remained suspended until Twilight righted herself, helping Rarity do the same.

“Did you play hoofball or something when you lived with your parents?”

“Sorry,” she apologized, still ecstatic, “but that’s just so wonderful! I mean, you’ve never even expressed interest in anypony before!”

“Well, maybe not anypony,” Twilight interjected, but Rarity seemed not to hear.

“ – and now the two of you are together in the library and it’s just so cute! Wait,” Rarity interrupted herself, “you two didn’t have some sort of falling out, did you? Is that why you’re here?”

“No, it’s not,” Twilight said firmly before Rarity could try to apologize for being insensitive. She was taking the revelation remarkably well. “You... are you sure you don’t mind?”

Rarity was visibly confused. “I don’t understand the question, darling.” A crease marred her normally unblemished face for a moment as she considered, before erupting into a peal of graceful laughter. “Oh! Twilight, dear, you wound my honor!” she giggled, bringing a hoof to her chest in mock offense. “I resent the implication that such a thing as finding a marefriend could shatter the bonds of friendship between us! The only thing that could possibly offend me about this situation is if you refuse to let me model a dress on such a lovely figure! And before you ask, no, that dress wouldn’t be her color, either, not with the red. Have you been worrying about this all weekend?” she asked, suddenly with a note of concern in her voice.

“Well, not in so many words, and I don’t think I realized it at the time – ”

“Twilight! I do not get jealous! I am the Element of Generosity!” She sniffed, apparently displeased with herself for the outburst. “Silly sort of label, that, to be honest,” she muttered, briefly breaking eye contact with Twilight as she stared outside. Twilight followed her gaze to a dejected-looking pegasus that had apparently just seen the ‘closed’ sign hanging in the window. “I catch myself saying that too much. The fact of the matter is, Twilight, that everypony, Element-bearer or not, is generally in support of their friends – at least this is the case for true friends, and I think we qualify. If you are worried about what I or any of the girls will say about this, I demand that you stop that this instant. It does yourself, and us, a disservice. I can speak for everypony when I say that whatever anger – I hope you do not mind if I say this, dear – your occasionally overactive and paranoid mind has imagined is just that – paranoia. I will adore having a new customer in town with such a lovely coloration, mane, and kind personality. Pinkie Pie loves any and all new additions to this little town. Really, I could write a list about why this isn’t the problem you fear, but I have other obligations today.” She finished her spiel and leaned on a foreleg, taking a slow breath in to recover. For the last minute, she had prioritized speaking over breathing. “Everything’s going to be just fine, Twilight.”

Gratitude for her friend suffused throughout her entire body. How could she ever have thought she would disapprove? She could have gone home right then, she’d found the catharsis she’d sought. But... that wouldn’t have been very generous of her, would it? She had another pony’s welfare to look after besides her own, now, and there likely wasn’t a pony who knew how to help better than Rarity. “I just wish Sunset knew that.”

An eyebrow quirked at this remark. “Why? How is she, anyway? I thought nothing of it at the time, but you avoided the question when I asked earlier.”

“She’s mostly fine, I think, but I honestly don’t know,” Twilight admitted. “She was in a bad state last night, but I managed to calm her down after a while. I’m still not convinced she’s completely better yet, and everything’s so sudden and so weird and I just don’t know what to do about it!”

“Do about it? You should pursue it, of course!” Rarity looked incensed, apparently afraid that Twilight was about to squander her chance at true love.

“I want to! Sunset is adorable! It’s just all happening too fast for me to process.”

“Oh, well, okay then,” Rarity said. She mellowed out as she considered, brow furrowed in thought. “Well then, what precisely would you like to talk about?”

Twilight faltered. Honestly, she had not thought this far ahead; probably not her best moment, as this was the moment she had come to Rarity’s for in the first place. As such, she thought her response was perfectly reasonable, given the circumstances.

“How do I romance?”

“I’m sure you could find a book on the subject,” Rarity teased. “I’m surprised, Twilight. I could call love an art, something to be mastered and practiced. I could say that, but it would not be true, much as I enjoy the occasional exaggeration. Anypony can do it. You’re very good at making friends wherever you go. Romance isn’t any different. You have to be generous, honest, kind, loyal; but most important is making sure that your love is true. Why do you care for her?” she inquired, and waited patiently for an answer.

Twilight paused for a moment, letting her mind wander. One of the velvet curtains rippled in a pattern like a raging inferno. Twilight stared at it, mind wandering back to Sunset’s mane of fire as she spoke. “I don’t know. It’s so hard to understand how I feel because it was so stressful when it – er, began, I suppose – that I sometimes forgot that I did enjoy her company. Everything’s changed too quickly, and I still don’t understand how to talk to her and make her understand exactly how I feel. We had a chat last night, though. We didn’t quite come to an understanding as to how we would proceed in the relationship from thence onwards, but I left her a note when I left the library – she’s still asleep – that, among other things, proposed the possibility of a date. But I digress,” Twilight said after noticing the bemused expression on Rarity’s face. “Sorry for rambling.”

The memory of Sunset Shimmer’s flower-scented mane seemed to hang in the air. Twilight smiled, suddenly certain. “She’s funny, and nice. She’s modest, whether she realizes it or not. She doesn’t like sharing things about how she used to be, but she won’t lie about what happened. I like how vulnerable she acts when she thinks nopony is looking. I enjoy being there for her when she needs somepony to talk to – especially since she thinks I’m the only one she can talk to, but I’ll prove her wrong on that point soon enough. I want to be the one to help her get over what she’s done in the past, and let her know that she’s already forgiven. And even though I never used to see it, she’s beautiful.”

Rarity smiled a beatific smile. “And does she know that this is how you feel?” she asked, voice gentle. Her eyes sparkled in the sunlight pouring through the windows. The silence stretched on, as good as an answer. “Then you should probably tell her.”

“Y – you’re right,” Twilight said. “You’re right!” She grinned with all her newfound confidence. Everything would be just perfect, now. “I’m going to go right back to the library right now and tell Sunset exactly how I feel!” She sprung off the chair, startling Rarity, who stood clumsily and galloped after her. Twilight pushed open the door to the boutique and heard it lock behind her as Rarity followed her mad rush.

“Wait!” she called. “There’s somepony – !”

A shadow passed over the sun.

“Twilight. Sparkle.”

She stopped dead in her tracks, whipping her head around to find the source of the words.

“Oh, dear,” Rarity murmured from behind. “You know, I did try to warn you.”

A dark figure, silhouetted by the morning sun, perched atop a nearby building, raised an ominous hoof, and pointed it towards Twilight in accusation.

“You dare invite a pony into this town...” it menaced, and suddenly leaped into the air before finally falling to earth near the alicorn with a pink blur and a bounce, “...and you didn’t tell me how to theme their super-duper ‘Welcome to Ponyville!’ party?”

Author's Note

I'm not entirely sure how to feel about this one. As you could probably tell, I tried to focus on dialogue more than prose, and I'm probably overthinking everything oh god it's just a fun little fluffy short story but i really want to not suck and tell me where I fucked up because I know I did

Also, we shall see what Pinkie does in a chapter or two.

Chapter III

Waking up was a slow process. She could have gotten out of bed quickly, but since the library wasn’t on fire, Sunset didn’t feel any need to hurry. The dull murmur of the town outside melded into white noise, a lullaby for a static world. The tranquility of the moment was broken by a disquieting realization – Twilight was gone. Why? Had Sunset done something to displease her? Probably not, since she wasn’t waking up on the street.

With a groan and creaking of stiff limbs, she flopped out of the bed. The angle of sunlight had changed throughout the morning so that it fell directly where her head had been. All of a sudden, Nightmare Moon’s plan to bring about nighttime eternal made perfect sense to Sunset. It was probably less a quest for world domination so much as one for beauty sleep. A cursory glance around the room revealed that Spike had abandoned his bed, meaning he had seen her wake up in a bed that wasn’t her own. Oh, well, it was going to be awkward with him anyway, she thought, before spotting a piece of paper that had been left beneath a vase on a table. With a little tug the note was free, written in Twilight’s signature scrawl.

Sunset,

I’ve gone out to talk to the girls. I still feel like I need time to sort this out. It’s all very confusing, none of this was part of my life until a few days ago.

Feel free to go for a walk, get lunch, anything. I know you have at least a few bits. Maybe we can do dinner tonight. Maybe Pinkie will have set up a party somewhere. Let’s play it by ear.

~Twilight

P.S. What do you put in your mane? It smells amazing.

Sunset read the note, not quite managing to stifle a giggle. Oh, Twilight, only you would ask a mare on a date by letter, she thought as the note evaporated in a burst of emerald light.

She trotted slowly to the door, still sluggish with the last vestiges of sleep. As she pulled it open, the smell of food wafted upstairs. Sunset was starving – the scent may as well have been magnetic for how quickly it pulled her down the stairs and into the kitchen. There she found Spike sitting at the same table she’d shared with Twilight the night before, wearing an immaculate chef’s hat and a ‘Kiss the Cook!’ apron.

“Pmmkeks mmfer mmf” he said when he noticed her, or at least attempted to. She had to give him credit for his heroic effort to speak – his cheeks were so full of food that he resembled a bullfrog. He swallowed a moment later. “Pancakes over there,” he repeated, gesturing with a talon towards a plate set out for her.

“Thank you, Spike,” she said with a little smile as she took her seat. Inside, she screamed. There was absolutely no chance that he hadn’t seen her sprawled across Twilight’s bed.

“How did you sleep?” Sunset asked, trying to gauge his reaction.

“Just fine. Wow, you sleep in hard, Sunset. At least you don’t snore. Too loudly,” Spike answered with an honest grin on his face. “Was something wrong with your bed?”

Oh boy, here we go, thought Sunset.

“Because, you know, I do all the chores around here, and if there was something wrong, I’d like to be the first to know,” he continued, grin widening. Oh, come on, he’s just a kid, this isn’t fair, Sunset complained to herself. Wait, Twilight said he hatched when she was, what, six? Seven? That would make him a teenager now. Oh, I hate teenagers...

She sighed. “All right, yes, I had a talk with Twilight last night that ended with everypony feeling much better in the end, with a moral lesson about trusting your friends thrown in. I was given to understand that this was par for the course in Ponyville.”

“Well, maybe, but you still haven’t answered my question.”

“I was cold.”

“You’re a fire mage. I’m sure you could have worked something out,” he beamed. His smile was so wide now that it would look more at place on a Cheshire Cat, or perhaps Pinkie Pie’s face. Sunset felt the color rising in her cheeks as she bit back an uncharitable retort. She’d never had to explain herself to anypony before, and wasn’t quite sure how to begin.

A few moments passed, as Sunset desperately tried to invent some sort of explanation. Before she could, however, Spike waved a claw in dismissal. “Hey, forget about it. I shouldn’t have said anything, ‘specially cause I knew you’d be embarrassed. That wasn’t cool.”

She tucked into her pancakes, considering. Spike could have continued to make her uncomfortable by asking questions until he had coaxed a proper answer out of her, but had chosen not to. Why had she expected him to be so malicious? She knew him to be better than that. Was she just being paranoid again, or was she expecting him to do what she would have done in his position; taunt her, mock her?

No, I buried that Sunset Shimmer, she told herself. “Thank you, Spike.” As an afterthought, she added, “Thanks for making me pancakes, too,” as she took a bite.

His grin returned. “Making you pancakes? Heck no, these are my pancakes. I’m just letting you have some.” He chuckled good-naturedly, before returning to an almost serious expression. “You’re welcome, it was honestly no problem.” Sunset let him swallow a few more too-large bites of pancakes interrupted before she asked him another question that had been on her mind.

“How do you feel about me living here? I mean, Twilight said there wouldn’t be a problem, but you basically clean everything up, right? I don’t want to feel like I’m imposing on anypony.” She set her utensils down on the plate, staring at where the pancakes had once been.

“It’s fine,” Spike assured her. He rose to get rid of his plate, now clean, that had been covered in pancakes only moments ago. “Make sure not to, like, make a huge mess, or set the books on fire or anything, and you’ll be fine.”

“Oh, come on, I lost control in a library one time – wait.” Sunset had been sure he had been accusing her, as if he’d known the story. Instead, his grin returned.

“Wait for what? This is a new one, do tell.”

“Ugh!”

Spike changed the topic once more. He had far more tact in sensing what ponies didn’t want to talk about than she’d ever had. “No, but, for real, this is like, your house now, right?”

“Uh, yes? But like I said, I don’t want to impose – ”

“No, but that’s just the thing,” Spike frowned. “You gotta stop acting like you don’t belong. Well, you don’t really have to, but you should, ‘cause you do.”

Once more, Sunset suppressed an uncharitable thought. After all, what did Spike know? Stop that, she reprimanded herself, he’s doing his best to give good advice. “I... I think I should go, anyway,” she said, still uncomfortable with her own subconscious.

She left the kitchen then, leaving Spike behind with his diminishing pile of pancakes. As she passed through the library she took a moment to admire the shelves as she couldn’t have done the night before. In the daylight, she noted with approval that everything had been properly organized according to Dewey Decimal System. Unfortunately for her, the 900 series – history – was extremely sparse, and the few books Twilight did have were either outdated or simply wrong. History had always been her favorite subject as Celestia’s protégée; she’d have to find a way to fill the stacks with proper history, instead of all the mythology Twilight seemed to favor. With a parting glare at The Elements of Harmony: A Reference Guide and all the inaccuracies contained within, she pushed open the door and entered a new world of light.

Ponyville in daytime was nothing like it had been at night. There was no sense of tranquility to the hustle and bustle of daily life, but as she walked through the town she noticed an easygoing vitality in everypony she met. Unfortunately, though she knew quite well where she wanted to go, she had no idea how she was supposed to get there. An aging pegasus mare approached her as Sunset stood at an intersection doing little other than looking lost.

"Hey there, ma’am. I haven’t seen you around Ponyville before. Are you lost?” she said, waving an indigo hoof as she approached.

“I suppose, yes,” Sunset admitted. “You wouldn’t happen to know where, uh, Sweet Apple Acres is located, would you?”

The mare brushed some graying hair out of her eyes before pointing off into the hills next to town. “It’s over there, sweetheart. Have a nice day, and on behalf of the town, welcome. I hope you aren’t too high strung, because otherwise you’ll have a good surprise when Pinkie finds you.” She chuckled and trotted off through the rest of town, leaving Sunset in her wake.

Never before had she been around ponies so helpful to complete strangers. She’d grown up on the streets of Canterlot, a city which for all its beauty still had an ugly underbelly. In those crowded streets she had never once gotten a scrap of compassion. A chance encounter had allowed her into the far easier castle life, but by that point she had begun to actively cultivate a persona that would warn all warmth and sympathy to keep its distance. Celestia had attempted to gain her trust regardless, and Sunset had betrayed her for trying. When she saw how universally friendly these ponies were, so very much like Celestia, shame bubbled up from deep within.

Her hooves carried her to the edge of town and beyond, across a bridge and into the shadow of the Everfree. After a few minutes the gnarled boles of the Everfree Forest transitioned into lovingly-kept apple trees, their branches bare and leafless from the winter months. A cool breeze rustled the leaves of the apple trees, here and there freeing snow from the boughs. Sunset shivered as the wind tugged at her mane. As she continued down the lane, she heard in the distance a repeating, concussive noise that would stop for several minutes and then resume. Curious, she left the well-worn path to find the sound’s source.

She arrived in a clearing after a minute or so of walking. She was certain this was the scene of the commotion, as several lifeless tree-limbs on the ground showed that a pony had been going through with an axe recently. If they were still here, they did not show themselves.

“Hello?” Sunset called to the trees. She felt silly for doing so the moment after the word left her lips.

“Howdy.”

Sunset stifled a shriek when a voice spoke from directly above her. With a heavy thud, the mare – the voice sounded like a mare, at least – dropped to the ground. With as much forced calm as she could muster, she turned to look at the pony behind her.

It dawned on Sunset that she had only truly seen Twilight’s friends at the end of an almost successful tiara heist. Still, she would recognize Applejack anywhere. Wind carried through the leafless trees of the orchard and pulled at her hair, but her stetson remained firmly in place despite jumping out of a tree. Her orange coat was obscured in some places by a pair of worn saddlebags and spotted with grime from a morning spent working beneath the winter sun. Sunset noted an axe leaning against the tree she’d fallen from.

“Oh, um, hi, Applejack. I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. Sorry if I’m somewhere I shouldn’t be,” Sunset said, surprising herself by overcoming her instinct to run away.

Applejack dismissed Sunset’s worries with a wave of a hoof. “Nonsense, Twilight told us you’d be comin’.” She frowned for a moment before continuing, “Though ah don’t recall being told you’d be coming so early. Anyhow, any friend of Twilight’s is a friend o’ mine, so don’t you concern yourself with not belonging here at Sweet Apple Acres,” Applejack said with a tip of her hat.

“Thanks for saying that, Applejack – ”

“Not just sayin’ it, Sugarcube,” Applejack grumbled, “Ah mean it, too.” A frown came over her face in an instant and was gone in the next, and she softened her expression with a smile. “Ah’m guessin’ that you came looking for me on purpose, so what can I do you for?”

“I just need somepony to talk to right now, and Twilight is off at Rarity’s, but you look busy. Should I come back another time?”

Applejack considered for a moment, scratching her chin with the underside of her hoof, then shook her head. “Nah. This work ain’t hard, just mighty tedious. You won’t be a distraction. Come along, then.”

She hefted the axe and deposited it in one of her bags, setting off through the trees at a trot. Sunset started after her, doing her best to keep up. Curiosity at what the mare was doing now outweighed the fears that had driven Sunset to seek her out. After a minute or so had passed, Applejack stopped at the base of another tree. With a mighty leap, she propelled herself into the leafless boughs of the apple tree. She pulled the axe back out of her bag and began hacking at the limb, confirming without doubt that she was the source of the noise that led Sunset through the acres. Sunset noted that the mare’s efforts to chop off the limb were not mindless or sloppy, but methodical. She first made a groove a pony-length down the branch, then cut off the rest of the branch past that point. Only then did she cut off what remained of the tree at the trunk. By the time Applejack jumped back down from her perch, Sunset’s interest had bubbled over into a question.

“Why are you cutting the branches off like that? For that matter, why are you cutting them at all? Is something wrong with it?”

“These branches are dead. If ah don’t cut them now, I’d invite parasites and disease into the tree that might make the whole thing die. And ah cut the branches like that because if you try to cut the whole thing at once, the weight of the limb will make it fracture at the trunk. Then the whole tree might die, too.”

“Really? I suppose that makes sense, but that’s fascinating. How do you know the branches are dead?”

Applejack glanced back at the trio of apples on her flank. “Ah just... do. Anyhow,” she said, clearing her throat, “No need for timber to go to waste. The second part of the job will be Big Mac – er, Big Macintosh, my brother, that is – anyway, he’ll haul a cart around and pick up the branches later today. It’s one of the winter jobs around the Acres, making sure the trees will be healthy in spring.” She lifted a hoof to scratch her ears, turning as she did so to look down the lane of trees and the cut branches she left in her wake.

“I guess he isn’t as nimble as you, then? That looks like hard work, getting into the trees like that. Do you want help? I could give you a boost with my magic, or just cut the branches myself if you show me how,” Sunset offered.

“No, but thank you kindly for the offer.” Applejack put the axe back in her bag with a smile and set off again with Sunset in tow, but slowed again almost immediately. “But you’ve been avoidin’ the whole reason you’re here, Sunset. What’s on your mind?”

Sunset sighed. She had no idea how to say any of what was on her mind. At length, she finally managed to say, “I feel as though a lot of good things are coming my way that I don’t entirely deserve.”

Applejack narrowed her eyes at this, stopping completely to look Sunset in the eyes. “Ah don’t follow,” she said slowly. “Is this still you feeling guilty for all the stuff Twilight said you did? Turnin’ into a demon and all – no offense,” she added.

“None taken. But yes, that, among other things,” Sunset said. She followed Applejack’s lead and rested against the base of a larger-than-average tree by her side. “I’ve done a lot of things in my life and I don’t feel like the few good things I’ve done in the past moons can come anywhere near cancelling them out.” She sighed after finishing her spiel, rubbing her hooves against the roots of the tree just to give herself something to do.

“So... what? You think there’s some sort of scale that counts all the good and bad things a pony does over their lifetime, and if they have one more good deed under their saddle they can call themself a good pony? And you’re worried that you’re a bad pony because you’re measuring yourself on this scale?” Applejack said, a dubious expression on her face.

Sunset was surprised at how easily the other mare had understood her point of view. “In short, yes. What do you think I can do to make amends for what I’ve done?”

“Ah think you’re being a silly pony, Sunset.” Applejack tipped her hat, as if the words required no further explanation.

“I’m sorry, what?” Sunset replied, dumbfounded.

“Sorry. Ah just think you have the whole issue of morality wrong. You can’t divide the world into good and bad, and you can’t measure hearts that simply, neither. Take Princess Luna. Ah was there for all the horrible things Nightmare Moon did just to me an’ my friends, but imagine how much worse it was a thousand years ago the first time around. She’s not a bad pony, and neither are you. You both have done things you ain’t proud of, but Twilight showed us then that a single moment can change a pony forever. And I think she’s trying to show you that, too. You just gotta listen to her.”

“You’re right, that is what Twilight says. I know she’s right, but still...” Sunset trailed off, unable to find words to complete the thought.

“Everypony deserves a second chance, Sunset, so long as they sincerely try to make themselves better than they were before. It’s not about whether you’ve done enough, but whether you’re trying to do more. So, from now on, stop beating yourself up over it. Celestia trusts you enough to let you back into Equestria, and she’s no fool. Twilight told us before you came that you were one of the best ponies she’d ever met, and she’s no fool, neither.” Applejack stopped leaning on her tree, trotting over to where Sunset sat and offering a hoof. After a moment’s hesitation, Sunset took it, and got back on her hooves.

“I’ll... try, I guess,” Sunset said. “I just don’t know how I can find a way to leave my guilt behind.”

“Well, just stick with Twilight, Sunset. You’ll be fine.” Applejack winked, and set off through the trees once more. “Well, so long as you’re here, you may as well tell me what your last few days have been like! Ah miss the Crystal Empire, sometimes. How was it?”

Sunset grinned, trotting after her friend. She didn’t immediately notice as she began her tale, but the weight on her mind had vanished as if it had never been there at all. “Well, it’s sort of a long story, actually...”

Author's Note

Holy christ, these last three days have been stressful. I've had about eighteen different computer problems installing my new motherboard/cpu, so I am SO sorry it took this long. You have my sincerest apologies. The next chapters will be much quicker to come out. I feel like this probably isn't as high quality as my other chapters, so tell me if you find anywhere where the prose is too light, or there isn't enough description, or anything. Sorry about the wait.

tl;dr this chapter is worse than I'd hoped but better than I expected.

Chapter IV

Sunset had missed this sort of easy companionship. She felt comfortable helping the other mare with her chores in a way she didn’t when she was with Twilight. This was a calm in the thunderstorm of her past few days. Sometimes they talked, either because Sunset was sharing her story or because Applejack had a question or comment for her. Much of the time, however, they were quiet.

It wasn’t the quiet of the awkward lulls in conversation that Sunset had grown all too accustomed to. Instead, it was an understanding that both mares could be alone with their thoughts but had the choice to start a conversation whenever they wanted. It had all the perks of being alone, but with company. In the calm atmosphere, all Sunset’s previous worries were melting away, like night terrors that seemed so silly under the light of dawn.

After several hours of work, they returned to the farmhouse.

“Y’all could eat here tonight, if you and Twilight wanted,” Applejack suggested. It was the first time either of them had spoken in several minutes. She trotted along the fence to the gate, pausing for a moment to empty the mailbox into her saddlebags. There was a pair of parcels and a few letters, one of which was violently pink. Another brief walk carried them into the house.

“That sounds really nice, Applejack. Thanks for the invitation. I should probably go meet her and let her know,” Sunset said, glancing out the window. There was plenty of daylight left, but to the east the sky was beginning to darken. “She must be done with whatever she was doing in town by now.”

“Not to be blunt, sugarcube, but would you like a shower before you go?” Applejack asked. She had taken the wad of envelopes out of her saddlebags and began reading each one in turn. Sunset felt a flush rise in her cheeks at the accusation before she took a sniff. She was starting to smell like somepony who’d spent a full day in the sun. Her mild indignation transformed into gratitude for the other mare; far better to be mildly embarrassed but be in a position to do something about it, than to wait and have Twilight notice. I suppose honesty can hurt a little, sometimes.

“Thanks,” Sunset said. “Where – ”

“Upstairs, can’t miss it. When you’re done, ah’ll have gone to run an errand. Don’t you worry if the house is empty when you’re done, just feel free to show yourself out. Come back some time after nightfall with Twilight,” Applejack said as she rinsed her hooves in the kitchen sink before shaking them dry.

Well, that was... brusque. Sunset didn’t allow herself to dwell on it, instead heading up the staircase through her friend’s home. It was welcoming, warmly lit, with a sort of lived-in ambiance that Twilight’s library lacked. The Apple household was clean; the library, by contrast, was sterile, every part kept in perfect order like gears in a machine. Perhaps it was because Twilight didn’t technically own the place, as it was town property. Perhaps since ponies could wander in to look through her selection of books any time the library was open, Twilight felt compelled to strip away anything overtly personal from her abode. Sunset wondered what the Golden Oaks Library would look like if Twilight felt free to change it any way she pleased. Would it feel as much a home as this?

Sunset found the bathroom soon enough. She stepped into the shower, drew the curtain and turned the faucet on. Bliss exploded throughout her body. When was the last time she’d had a shower? She hadn’t needed one during her stay in the Crystal Empire, and in the excitement of last night she hadn’t gotten a chance to wash up. Which would meant that, in this form, the last time Sunset Shimmer had a shower was... well over ten years ago.

She sighed. As wonderful as it was, she didn’t want to abuse her host’s hospitality. Sunset allowed herself five minutes to get the worst of the grime out of her coat and mane, five minutes which came and went all too soon. She turned the water off as she took measured breaths, gathering energy into her horn.

The first spell was like a mummification with invisible cloth, and Sunset felt pressure as it wound its way around her body. The second was far simpler. The ethereal bindings shattered like glass, and steam hot enough to scald billowed off her form. Sunset exited the shower unscathed and perfectly dry. Being able to use magic again has its advantages, she mused. Out of courtesy for her host, she directed the steam through the bathroom window. It shimmered green and gold from the combined effect of her magic and the sunlight.

She made her way back downstairs and out the front door, trotting down the little path through the woods. She wanted to see Twilight again. She wanted the tension between them to evaporate like water caught in her spell. Hopefully, if Twilight’s day had been as enlightening as Sunset’s, they could work out whatever issues still plagued them.

The path led into town, and Sunset emerged from beneath the shadows of the trees just as the sun was reaching the horizon. Being in the town, all that remained for Sunset to do was find Twilight. That’ll be a bit more troubling, she thought. Where do I look? Sugarcube Corner, Carousel Boutique, the Library...

She decided on the library. Twilight would probably think that was the logical place to meet up, so she’d be staying there waiting for Sunset to find her. Sunset made her way to the center of the town.

As soon as she arrived near the base of the tree, her guess was vindicated. Twilight was backing out of the door, closing it as she left.

“Hey,” Sunset called.

Twilight turned towards her as her face split into a grin. She bounded across the short distance separating them to embrace Sunset, nearly bowling her over in the process. “Hi, Sunset,” she said. Twilight’s smile was radiant. It hadn’t even been a day, and she’d already started to miss it. “Sorry for running out like that this morning. I needed some time to think. Still friends?”

“Oh, I hope so,” Sunset replied. She allowed herself a moment of weakness, letting Twilight support her, before standing up straight. “Applejack invited us for dinner. If you haven’t made any other plans on that front, we should take her up on her offer.”

“Did she really?” Twilight asked, though she didn’t sound too surprised. One dark eyebrow rising was the only indication that the news had interested her in the slightest. “That sounds wonderful. If she’s waiting for us, we should head over right now.” Twilight stopped hugging Sunset, but still pulled her along by a hoof. She was too startled by the sudden activity to resist, and they began walking the well-trodden path to the Apple’s orchard that Sunset was growing quite familiar with.

“And maybe tomorrow night we could, I don’t know, have dinner together,” Twilight suggested. She was quiet now, almost meek, as if implying that Sunset might have somewhere better to be. She was starting to fidget with her wings, something she often did when she was nervous.

“I –”

Twilight cut her off immediately. “It’s just that I feel like I’ve been pushing you away a little bit. We’ve been together for such a short time but between my brother, Cadance, and now the – er, Applejack’s dinner, we won’t have had any time to be alone. I just don’t think that’s fair to you.”

“If you hadn’t cut me off, I would have told you that it’s a great idea,” Sunset said. “Not to bring up a possibly difficult subject, but where do we go from here? Your proposal sounds suspiciously like a date.”

“Is that a problem?” Twilight gazed at Sunset, looking crestfallen.

“No, no!” Sunset backtracked. “That’s not what I meant at all. I’d love that, really. It’s just... I don’t want to dance around the issue and never confront it. I can’t stand subtlety. I just want to know where we stand, how exactly we’re going to make this work without it being awkward every other minute. Hold on, it’s getting dark, watch your step.” She conjured a green orb to float over them and safeguard them from tripping on roots or holes in the path.

“Thanks, Sunset,” Twilight mumbled. “Whatever you are, you’re a good friend.”

“Well, I learned from the best.”

“You’re a master in your own right,” Twilight said. They walked under the trees once more, and Sunset had to admit it was somewhat intimidating being this close to the Everfree by night. “But back on topic, I don’t think I have an answer for you just yet. I’m sorry, it’s still too confusing.”

“You don’t need to rush anything. It’s fine, really,” Sunset replied, but her heart sank. How long would it be before things could be normal between them?

They walked in silence the remainder of the way. Twilight let them in through the fence gate. She departed from the garden path to walk away from Applejack’s house, eliciting a raised eyebrow from Sunset.

“I would have thought that we’d be going into the house. Do you know something I don’t?” Sunset asked as they walked through the small field in the center of Sweet Apple Acres.

"Oh, Applejack always has these sorts of family get-togethers in the barn. It’s the only place everypony will fit,” Twilight said. The barn in question was a muted red-violet color, the same as the house. Everything was calm and quiet, which struck Sunset as odd. Where was everypony?

“Family get-together? How many ponies did she invite, anyway – ”

Twilight threw the barn doors open with a blast of magic, and everything happened at once.

“Sur-priiiiiiiiiiise!”

The shout came from everywhere. Columns of confetti streamed from a cannon, and hundreds of faces appeared inside, flocked around tables or clusters of balloons. High-strung as Sunset was, thousands of self-defence spells came to her in an instant. Even as startled as she was, she had the presence of mind to dispel the gathering magic.

“Ha! You jumped a full meter into the air! Are you sure you aren’t a pegasus?” cackled a voice from above her. Rainbow Dash floated lazily in the air, grinning at Sunset’s surprise. Before Sunset had much time to study her, Pinkie Pie appeared out of thin air to pull Sunset into the barn. This was not an exaggeration- she’d been looking at the spot where Pinkie materialized, and there had been no intermediate point for Pinkie’s progress to be tracked.

“Well, that nearly gave me a heart attack,” Sunset mumbled, but she smiled despite herself.

Next to her, Twilight giggled. “You knew, didn’t you?” she asked, trying her best to sound accusatory. She suspected that she failed, on that front.

“Yep!” Twilight confirmed, before frowning and qualifying, “Well, I knew that it would happen sooner rather than later ever since I learned you were coming to Ponyville. Everyone gets one. I don’t think that’s what you meant, though. But yes, Pinkie met me around noon and told me she’d do your ‘Welcome to Ponyville’ party tonight. Applejack was told to invite you over, and the rest is history.”

“But how did she have everything ready so quickly?” Sunset asked, casting her eyes around the room. After working together to surprise her, the ponies in the barn – which, if their numbers were any indication, were probably half of the town’s total population – had begun to mill around and enjoy the party. There was a table for food, another for drinks, and a third, larger than the former two combined, for pastries and other dessert foods. Balloons were everywhere. There was a huge banner that read, ‘Welcome to Ponyville, Sunset Shimmer’ draped across the barn rafters.

Twilight was looking between the food and drink tables, apparently trying to decide if she was hungrier or thirstier. “Everypony gets the same welcome,” Twilight said. She cut a path through the crowd to the food table while Sunset followed, still confused.

“But weren’t we supposed to be arriving late tonight or something? How could she have all this set up for now? It doesn’t make any sense! Also, um, could you get me some of what you’re having?”

"Sure,” Twilight said. She’d poured some manner of thick, red soup into a bowl for herself, and repeated the process at Sunset’s request. After giving the bowl to Sunset, Twilight shrugged. “Now might be a good time for you to learn that there’s no way to apply rational thought to Pinkie’s actions. I think she’s passively clairvoyant or something, and she can do things with magic that defy any explanation. I spent a long time trying to figure it out, but trust me, it’s no use.”

They found an empty table in one corner of the barn. Sunset hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she’d been near food, but now it was all she could think about. She tucked in. The soup, she discovered, was some kind of tomato and rice concoction that was absolutely delicious. Sunset had spent much of her life having nobody to cook for her, so she prepared her own meals. This was problematic, since she was a hopeless chef. She’d lapsed into a routine – bagels every day for breakfast, cafeteria food for lunch, canned beans or white rice for dinner. Until she broke the habit on her return to Equestria, she hadn’t realized how much she’d been missing.

This food was even better than what she’d had in the Crystal Empire. It did not last long. “Ohhhh...” Sunset moaned. “There should be laws against making food that good.

Twilight observed her, a rather bemused expression on her face. “I guess you really were hungry. Good thing there’s plenty of food here. Pinkie never does these things halfway.”

Sunset stood to find more food. Much as she wanted to try something new and probably as good as the soup, she was too fatigued to try something new. She poured she noticed a number of interesting things. Rainbow Dash was being a pest, swooping around the rafters and occasionally dive-bombing passerby. Applejack and Rarity were having a heated discussion near the table Sunset shared with Twilight. Fluttershy was trying to convince a petulant rabbit to eat something it apparently wanted nothing to do with. Pinkie’s usual antics were scattering the crowd. All these things on their own were inconsequential, but together they had the effect of keeping Sunset’s corner of the barn as private and quiet as they could hope for. Applejack noticed Sunset watching her, and turned to meet her eye for the barest fraction of a second before inclining her head in a nod.

Until moments ago, despite every bit of evidence against it, some self-conscious part of her mind had thought Twilight’s friends might hate her for potentially driving a wedge between them and their friend. You foal, Sunset. When will you learn nopony thinks as selfishly as you do?

Twilight sat alone, fidgeting with her spoon. She still hadn’t so much as touched her soup. Something about her expression caused Sunset to hesitate in restarting the conversation. When she sat down, she sat down in silence.

Twilight was frowning slightly, eyebrows knitted together as she contemplated something beyond Sunset’s ken. Somehow, despite Sunset, her nearby friends, and all the rest of the ponies at the party, she looked lonely, sad.

Maybe things were still somewhat awkward and unclear between the two of them, but there was no way in hell she’d let Twilight be sad.

“Feeling alone in a crowd?”

“Hm?” Twilight had noticed when Sunset was sitting down, but hadn’t seemed to register her presence until she spoke. Her expression eased somewhat. “Maybe.”

“I know the feeling. So much of the time I never had anypony to talk to, and if I did, I was too proud or stubborn or ashamed to try. But you have your friends, and now you have me. So, tell me what’s wrong.” Sunset leaned in over the table, partially to hear Twilight’s response better through the din and partially to make eating less messy.

Twilight sighed, then took a deep, measured breath, as if fortifying herself. “Sunset... I think there’s something I don’t understand.”

Now it was Sunset’s turn to frown, confused. “About what?”

“About you.”

She closed her eyes, regulating her breathing. To Sunset, it looked like a simple breathing exercise – five seconds in, five out, repeat. Sunset didn’t interrupt. She would find the words she needed in her own time.

“Until a few days ago, I never had any sort of plans for the future. I mean, I was perfect at planning the coming month down to the hour, but it was more for making sure I had enough time and could balance work and social engagements. Since sorting things out last night, and talking with Rarity, I’ve been able to think more clearly. I’m thinking about the next few months, years even, and I can’t imagine any future I’d want for myself that doesn’t include you. How have you done this to me?”

Wordlessly, Sunset stood and walked around the table during Twilight’s monologue. The mare was showing her usual warning signs of hysterics. When she sat down again, she leaned against Twilight, who looked uncertain but did not object. “Is this love?”

Sunset smiled. “I don’t know. But, if we work together, maybe we can find out.”

Everything she’d ever heard or read on the subject told her that a good kiss was supposed to be electrifying, exciting. Sunset always had the opposite impression. Twilight leaned forward as she brought Sunset towards her, pulling the two of them into a passionate kiss. In an instant, the cacophony of the party around them faded to easily-ignored background noise. Nothing mattered but that moment. None of her worries, buried guilts or old shames existed at all. These few intimate moments were the only times she could remember being calm, feeling safe and unconditionally loved.

Like all good things, the kiss came to an end. Conversely, the feeling of being cared for despite all her flaws persisted. As she opened her eyes, she saw that Twilight’s breathing had slowed, as if she’d been affected the same way. It had taken so long for them to understand their own confused feelings, Sunset realized, because they were trying to use their minds instead of their hearts. One of the first lessons on friendship, and they’d both forgotten it when it counted.

For now, Sunset was just too tired to think of the future, like Twilight had been doing. The present was good enough for her.

“Maybe we should get some sleep?” Sunset suggested.

A smile spread across Twilight’s face, and her purple eyes glimmered in the torchlight. “As good as the food is here, I was thinking the same thing. We’ve both had a long day,” She said. Standing up, she offered a hoof to Sunset, who took it.

They passed through the crowd towards the open door, leaning against each other. Twilight spread a wing over Sunset, blanketing her with an air of contentment. Sunset allowed herself a quick peck on her marefriend’s cheek, before breaking apart and saying, “Maybe we can spend the day without avoiding each other. You could show me more of town, or we could stay in, just the two of us...”

They departed down the path through the night, leaving the general commotion of the party behind them. They were quiet the whole way back to the library, the sort of companionable silence that Sunset had been missing. At the library door, Twilight stopped for long enough to wrap Sunset in a tight embrace. “I’d like that,” she whispered, and they walked into the dark library together. Sunset hummed, content.

All was well.

Author's Note

Editing credit goes to Ragnar, for graciously spending his precious writing time to instead try and make this story slightly bearable. And this marks the end of THIS part of Twilight and Sunset's relationship, but I have a sequel planned. I'm going to make a blog post in a few days specifically to gauge interest for it, because it's going to be a much different feel from this and Snow in her Mane. Thanks for putting up with my crap for the last few months!