"I have a brother?!"
Celestia gave Twilight Sparkle an apologetic smile, stirred a little more love nectar into both her tea and Twilight's untouched cup, and took a sip. "I know it's awkward, but —"
"Awkward? Awkward?! One of my five best friends is the Element of Honesty, Princess! I'm already lying by omission about so much to her and the other ponies. What am I supposed to say when she asks me to my face why I've never mentioned him before?"
Celestia's smile turned hard, but her voice lost none of its mild tone. "You'll forgive me, I hope, if I'm less concerned about the ability of my most brilliant 'ling to adapt her cover story than I am about a deranged, rapacious rival queen and her 10,000 drones."
Twilight exhaled, pacing around the room. "I know. I know. But there's got to be a better way."
"I assure you there isn't." Celestia gestured out the window and down at Canterlot, where pink banners with Cadance's crystal-heart mark were fluttering in the day's mild breeze. "The other hive couldn't have arrived at a worse time — Cadance's alicorn ascension makes her so transparently important as to be a guaranteed target for replacement, but if they learn why she's so important, then we'll have all-out war over the heart of the Crystal Empire before we can secure control of it. So I need to make it look like we're coronating her simply as leverage." Celestia set her teacup down and strolled over to the window. "Grooming a 'ling for marriage to neutralize an ambitious prodigy whose selective barrier spells pose too much of a threat. It's a painfully classic play, which is what makes it so plausible. Chrysalis — and we have to hope her mother didn't survive her insurrection; Arachne would be clever enough to look for a deeper angle — will be too busy scrambling to neutralize Shining Armor herself to examine the golden prize that's in her grasp."
"If you need that sort of bait, why not marry Cadance to Providence Eye or to Blueblood? Not only do they have the right pedigree to justify her coronation, but if my cover is blown, the implications could reverberate all the way back to Project Luna."
Celestia's voice, for the first time, got strained. "I'm aware, Twilight. But I'm not teaching a pony that kind of spell, and I can't falsify the paper trail of a new noble without bringing ponies in on the conspiracy. The instant the queen stares into the eyes of a pony who knows the truth, this plan is dead in the water." She walked back to the table for another sip of tea. "Your lineage, on the other hoof, is under our complete control, and unassuming while also clearly being groomed for power. I need a new Equestrian hero on zero notice, and the only plausible source is from the bloodline that unlocked the Elements of Harmony."
Twilight massaged her aching temple. "What makes you think this is going to work? Do we even have an exit strategy?"
"Luring them into an attack, then modifying that barrier spell with an anti-changeling kinetic burst —"
Twilight whirled to Celestia, jaw dropping. "What?"
"— keyed specifically to their hive. If we can stall them until the wedding, Luna can capture an infiltrator and adjust the targeting accordingly."
"Even if that doesn't literally blow up in our faces, you're talking direct confrontation and a nationwide changeling panic! This is madness!"
"Then suggest a sane solution."
Twilight's mouth opened and closed. She plodded to the window, staring out at the spiraling towers of Canterlot and the city streets beneath, ponies in scurrying perpetual motion like a disturbed anthill.
"We could try telling them what we really are," Twilight said.
Celestia frowned. "I said a sane solution."
Twilight turned and frowned back. "Elements of Harmony, remember? We're preaching to ponies that one of our core virtues is honesty —"
"— and that is important. But you're talking about revealing ourselves now. Upending everything ponies thought they knew, right before an invasion rips their nation apart. If you don't think Chrysalis will take full advantage of that — marching into Canterlot as the 'real' me, and accusing us of being the infiltrators — you're madder than she is. And there's no way that revealing ourselves after the assault would go over well." Celestia's voice softened. "I know how you feel, Twilight, and I swear to you we'll tell ponies everything — just as soon as the Crystal Heart heals us so that we no longer have to steal ponies' love to survive. And in the meantime I'm as honest with ponies as I possibly can be ... not about what I am, but who I am."
"… I'm not certain I understand the distinction."
"Who is Princess Celestia?" Celestia spread a hoof. "She's the one who unified the tribes, founded the surrounding cities, and built this castle a few centuries ago. That was me. She's the immortal ruler who leads happy ponies in a fragile but amazingly persistent utopia. That's me. When I ask them to believe that Princess Celestia cares about them ... I've had a long time to observe what loving ponies do, and I do all those things, and when ponies respond to that by filling to bursting with love ... what's the first rule of our hive?"
Twilight nodded. "Nopony gets drained. Ever."
"Right. They said it was impossible for changelings to live without draining their victims, but our ponies hold me in such adulation that I've been able to skim the ambient excess to feed the hive for centuries." Celestia walked to Twilight's side and stared out the window. "What they love is my mask, but I've become my mask, and it only and ever reflects my actions. I cheer for their successes and mourn their losses. I steer them toward smart decisions and away from indulging their worst excesses. I protect them from threats and help them thrive — not to keep our food secure, but because ponies matter." She touched Twilight's shoulder with a hoof and smiled. "And I'm proud to raise 'lings who believe in that principle with such unwavering faith."
Twilight gave Celestia an uncertain smile, though it quickly fell away. "But I'm their friend, Princess. Secrets hurt."
"I know," Celestia said softly. "But never forget that you are Twilight Sparkle, in every way which could possibly matter. Twilight Sparkle just isn't quite what ponies assume her to be." She smiled wryly. "And if you weren't who you are, you wouldn't have been able to use the power of those friendships to work the miracles that have kept your friends safe."
"Yeah." Twilight exhaled, shoulders sagging, and stared at the ground. "… Yeah. I know."
Celestia stared out at the city in silence for long seconds. "I'm sorry," she finally said.
Twilight put her forehooves up on the windowsill, staring at the lavender fuzz coating her legs, her eyes occasionally flicking past them out to the city beyond. "No. I get it. You're right. It just hurts."
"I know," Celestia said, draping a wing over Twilight's withers. "That's why I'm sorry."
Twilight chuckled humorlessly, resting her head against Celestia's shoulder, and closed her eyes. "Can we at least start laying the groundwork for the truth? Once the invasion and all the rest is dealt with, I mean?"
"Of course," Celestia immediately said. "Once the invasion is dealt with, and we've secured the Crystal Empire, and I've produced a new queen Cadance can 'give birth to', and we've attuned her essence to the Crystal Heart …" She sighed. "That's a lot of 'once's. But the very next step is to openly start introducing changelings into pony society. That's a promise. And I'll want you to help with the test program."
"You know I will." Twilight nuzzled Celestia's shoulder, feeling the warmth of her carefully restrained balefire, letting herself pretend it was the warmth of skin. "You know I'll do anything for you."
Celestia smiled. "And your brother?"
Twilight thought for a moment, then nodded. "Take me to him."
There was something almost guileless in his expression, Twilight thought, one hoof on the yet-to-be-decanted pod. The chitin was still softening and sprouting fur, leaving his muzzle curled into an artificially lopsided smirk, but his closed eyes were relaxed, fluttering in the rapid motions of empty dreams.
She stared for quite some time at the floating sprawl of electric-blue mane over white coat — had Celestia used Template 3 again? — then bit her lip and considered.
"Make her my old foalsitter," Twilight finally said.
Celestia blinked, turning back from her inspection of the thick, acrid-smelling tubes twining through the egg-chamber. "Pardon?"
"Cadance," Twilight said. "Give me a reason to know her well. Luna will need time, which means the queen will need a distraction, and I'm in the best position to provide one by digging in too deeply where I shouldn't. But more importantly, that makes my brother's silence toward me even more inexplicable — I can get out in front of that and declare it fishy, giving me a built-in reason to be going after Chrysalis. And either my friends will get caught up in my protestations of weirdness, or they'll write me off as out of touch. Either way, that will punt the question of his sudden appearance until well after the other hive is exposed."
Celestia thought for a moment, then nodded firmly. "Done. And … Twilight? Thank you."
Twilight stared at the thing which was to become Shining Armor, then gave Celestia a wry smile.
"Well, you know Twilight Sparkle," she said. "When it comes down to it, she'd do anything for family."
