Because I Have Friends

by TheAccidentalBrony

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Starlight Glimmer, Drama
Length: 7746

In the wake of Starlight's graduation, Twilight Sparkle worries her friends may be growing apart. Clearly, the best way to deal with this is a few mugs of cider.

Starlight Glimmer's graduation was nervewracking for Twilight Sparkle, and in its aftermath, she begins to worry about her own future. She and her friends have come a long way since they first met, achieving many of their dreams and, in the process, assuming new responsibilities. But as they have grown into their roles in Equestria, have she and her friends have started to grow apart?

Clearly, the best way to answer this question is with a few mugs of cider.

Takes place between Celestial Advice and All Bottled Up

Pre-reading by Damen

Proofread by PresentPerfect

Cover art by katakiuchi4u

Published 2017-06-01 20:40:01 UTC
Last updated 2017-06-01 20:40:01 UTC

It's okay to slip

DAAAAAAANCE, EVERYPONY, DANCE!

Twilight Sparkle was, in fact, not dancing, despite the music. She did not particularly like to dance, and moreover, she simply did not feel like dancing on that particular evening. In fact, the constant pulsing of the bass was more annoying than it was anything else at that point. The emotional rollercoaster the day had put her through earlier—from panic to dismay to overwhelming joy—had long since left her, replaced with an emptiness at her core that just left her feeling cold and tired.

An emptiness she was doing her best to fill with plenty of delicious, golden cider. Which she’d be doing a lot better if the Celestia-damned bartender would quit chatting up the pretty mare three stools over and notice her mug had been empty for the last three and a half minutes.

Unexpectedly, a frosty mug slid across the thick oak counter, stopping directly under Twilight’s muzzle. Some of the frothy gold liquid it carried had splashed over the rim as it traveled, the lost droplets tracing thin paths through the condensation. In confusion, she glanced back to Silver Jigger’s last known position, who was still grinning coyly mere inches from the slightly-inebriated pegasus. Her brow furrowed, she brought her muzzle to the rim of the glass. As her reward, her nose instantly filled with a bouquet of bright, pleasant floral odors. Within these, she found the comforting scents of spicy cinnamon and warm, rich oak, with hints of vanilla peeking through. Before it even touched her lips, honey and slightly sour apples danced on her tongue.

Twilight’s horn threw out a shower of sparks, a pink glow slowly enveloping the vessel, which teetered unsteadily before her eyes. Unlike the last two (or was it three?), she didn’t hesitate for even a moment before bringing it to her lips and taking a deep draught of sweet nectar from it.

It was even better than it smelled.

“A darn sight better’n the swill he’s givin’ you, isn’t it?” Applejack shouted, her voice strained against the din blasting from Vinyl Scratch’s ridiculous sound system.

Twilight's heart leapt at the sound of her friend's voice. “It's hard to believe they're the same thing at all. Thanks, AJ, you’re a lifesaver!”

“Don’t mention it, sugarcube.”

Twilight jabbed a hoof towards the stool next to her. “Hay, this one’s open, if you want to take a seat…”

“I’d love to...but there’re thirsty ponies out there, and I’ve got cider to sell.”

“Oh.”

Applejack frowned. “It’s just, well, you know we had a hard year this year, what with Granny’s hip goin’ out again and the new competition from Appleloosa.”

Twilight nodded silently.

“And, what with the thieves running the place takin’ one bit of every five, it just means I gotta sell that much more,” Applejack added.

She smirked. Applejack had talked herself an incredible opportunity just getting into the Salty Hoof for the occasion, and she knew it, too. Convincing Moon Glint to reduce her commission from thirty-five percent to twenty was nearly unbelievable, considering the sales they could expect tonight. Twilight had to admit, her farmpony friend could indeed be quite the shrewd businesspony when she set her mind to it.

Applejack cleared her throat. “So, uh, yeah. Sorry, Twi, but I’ll have to catch ya later.”

“Yeah, it’s alright,” Twilight said, her head drooping a little. “See you around, then.”

“Sounds good. Take care of yourself.”

Applejack retreated slowly, her eyebrow raised. Presumably, she was headed back to the dance floor, where ponies were more than willing to overpay for a bottle of cider. Truly, this scene was no more hers than Twilight’s, but bits were bits, after all.

She sighed. Applejack was a good friend, and she oughtn’t scorn her friends their successes.

Even if those friends were conspicuously absent this evening.

Rotating her stool fully away from the bar, her eyes fell to the writhing mass of ponies, scanning it for a familiar form. The dim lighting, punctuated by flashes of brightness, made it difficult to discern anything more than a multi-chromatic smear. She narrowed her eyes in an attempt to force the blurred forms into focus, eventually rewarded by the appearance a conspicuous cyan blob in her vision. She was far off on the other side of the dance floor, near to the stage, because of course she would be. Rainbow Dash was quite at home at these sorts of events, as befit her boisterous, outgoing nature. Judging by the azure forms next to her, she’d found her fellow Wonderbolts in the crowd as well. Twilight couldn’t help but roll her eyes at that. The showponies couldn’t be bothered to attend the ceremony earlier in the day, but when word got out that Pinkie had planned an afterparty at the Salty Hoof, everypony who was anypony suddenly had nothing on their schedules.

The rhythm of the crowd had slowed, horns lit and swaying in time with a remix of Coloratura’s latest single, making it easier to pick out individual ponies. Unfortunately, none of them matched anypony she knew, and she resigned herself to the notion that there was likely none to be found. It made sense; Fluttershy would have scurried off shortly after the music began blaring, and Rarity had excused herself earlier in the day to tend to her shop in Canterlot. There was apparently some sort of crisis or another to handle, a new season to plan, a new customer to satisfy. Something like that, anyway. To be honest, Twilight hadn’t truly been paying attention; she’d heard it all too many times. There were always other concerns busying them these days, keeping them apart. Including Applejack, out there making a tidy sum foisting welcome brews at more-than-accommodating patrons.

She bit her lip, the mug lowering to her hooves until she released it with a loud pop. The froth had mostly settled, the cider’s surface nearly mirror-like, reflecting back her own frowning visage punctuated by small ringlets from the sonic blasts.

“Twilight!” Her ears perked as a weight settled into the stool beside her with a heavy whump. Rather than turn to greet the pony, though, Twilight simply stared into the golden liquid harder, ignoring the forming knot in her chest. Right now, she really just needed a few minutes alone.

“Wow! Pinkie's really killing it with this afterparty, huh?” Twilight’s uninvited guest chattered with an enthusiasm that made her teeth grind. “I mean, yeah, parties are her thing and all. But still, she's really topped herself this time, don’t you think?”

“Heh. Yeah, it's super.”

A beat, interrupted only by a pony gulping and the dying screech of the current song.

“Thank you for today, though, really,” the mare said, finally. “I mean, not that I wasn’t totally scared out of my mind you were going to send me to some Celestia-forsaken town in the middle of nowhere. But the rest, well, it really meant a lot to me.”

So, Starlight, then. She could imagine worse company, and her former student was doing her best to make conversation. Twilight disliked small talk even under normal circumstances. In her current frame of mind, it grated on her nerves like the cracking of a book’s spine. Even so, Starlight’s description of her potential assignment sounded suspiciously familiar. She had grown much in her time in Ponyville, but it was clear she was still far from moving past the experiences both of her youth and her Town.

And Twilight had nearly sent her away.

Just another item to add to the list of things she almost messed up.

She brought a hoof to her head, inattentively rubbing small circles in time with the irritatingly catchy beat. The stool beside her protested obnoxiously, letting out a grating screech as its occupant shifted her position.

“Um, is everything alright?”

“Oh, me? Yeah, I’m…fine.” Taking a quick slurp of cider, Twilight forced her lips into a thin smile and reticently turned towards her friend.

Starlight’s eyebrow raised as her eyes searched the alicorn’s face. “You sure? Because, honestly… Well, you look a bit like an axe-murderpony.”

She blinked.

“Oh... I’m sorry, that was probably a bit harsh. I just mean, urgh…”

Twilight hacked up a dry, cheerless laugh, placing a hoof on her friend’s back a bit less gently than she meant to. Tilting her cider fully vertical, unhinging her jaw far wider than was truly necessary. To her great disappointment, she was rewarded only with a sprinkle of droplets that fell from the empty stein to her snout. She wrinkled her nose with displeasure, brusquely rubbing the wetness off with a fetlock and returning the drink to the counter with a solid thud.

“It’s alright. I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Yeah.”

The unicorn scratched the back of her head as she took a hesitant sip from her beverage, her cheeks filling with pink. Her drink looked to be a delicate affair, one of the fancy, enchanted sorts requiring specialized training to make. Within it was a full spectrum of colors, which sparkled dazzlingly as they swirled and intermixed. Although quite beautiful to look at, Twilight never bothered with those sort of drinks. They tended to be expensive, and there were so many to choose from, all exotic blends of flavors that never quite appealed to her.

Cider did the job well enough, anyhow.

Turning back to her own drink, Twilight’s lips spread in a broad grin as she found it had actually been replaced—thank Celestia!—with a freshly filled one. Silver Jigger had apparently been able to step away from his private affairs for a moment to actually do his job.

“How many of those have you had, anyway?”

The heat spread in Twilight’s cheeks, realizing she couldn’t quite recall the answer. In fact, she was unsure how long she’d even been at the party in the first place, and trying to make her brain cooperate was a bit like building a sand castle out of molasses. After a few minutes, she decided “a while ago” was going to be the best estimate she could come up with. Rarity, certainly, would be displeased with her lack of self-control. Likely, she would consider it another failure at proper royal behavior.

“Dahling, a lady simply does not chug her beverage in polite social…er, company,” Twilight mocked with a roll of her eyes.

Starlight’s jaw dropped, and she exploded with laughter.

“Well,” she sputtered between chuckles, “I think that answers that!”

Twilight’s cheeks reddened further as she realized she had verbalized her thoughts. What was done was done, though, the warmth in her belly making it hard for her to stay upset for long. And it did seem sort of silly that her student was monitoring her like a filly. Drawing in a deep breath, she forced each muscle in her face into a flat, neutral expression as she met Starlight’s gaze.

“Hay! I’m a big enough pony to know what I can handle, Starlight Glimmer! I’mma Princess after all,” she huffed, pointing at a wing to demonstrate the point. “And I’m an alicorn, and you know our physo—physiology is more than a bit different.”

Starlight stopped laughing, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully.

“Yeah,” Starlight said finally, “I guess you’re right; I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

The unicorn looked down, turning her attention to the pink-and-teal swirl in her glass. Lifting a toothpick with her magic, she gave the viscous fluids a gentle stir, watching the colors blend and separate again intently. For a moment, Twilight just watched her, unsure what to think of the sudden silence between them. This was new. Starlight wasn't exactly known for holding her feelings back. In fact, of their friends, only Rainbow Dash and Applejack tended to be blunter in their delivery. With a sigh, Starlight lifted her head from the glass, meeting Twilight’s gaze with downcast eyes.

“I guess I’m still not very good at this whole friendship business, am I?”

“Oh, don’t be silly. You’re doing fine, Starlight. As the Princess of Friendship, I’d know, right?” She bit her lip, a lump of ice burning in her chest. “Though you wouldn’t know it…”

“What do you mean?”

Twilight tapped a hoof on the counter, the muffled sounds from the stage suddenly seeming worthy of her attention.

Ah...Ah...Ah...know I said...Ah...Ah…(fly with)...Hooves on Fi-i-i-i-i-re!

“N-nothing,” she said quickly. “This music is really awful, you know?”

Starlight quirked an eyebrow, then giggled brightly. “Yeah, it’s not exactly my style either, but it works for these kinds of things.”

“I guess.” Twilight sucked in a long breath. “You really have no idea how glad I am you decided to stay here in Ponyville with us.”

“Honestly, there wasn’t really a choice there at all. I still have so much learning to do—and I’m going to need my best friends to do it.”

“Yeah. I was really stressing myself out about the idea of having to send you away.”

“Let me guess, something about me causing world-ending catastrophes without you there to look over my haunches?”

“Er... something like that, yes,” Twilight said, leaning forward to lift her mug despite Starlight’s tittering. As she did, the counter seemed to tilt sideways unsteadily, forcing her to quickly slam a hoof to it to steady herself. Her stomach still in her throat, she turned quickly to her apprentice, doing her best to smile convincingly. Starlight didn’t look any wiser for it, her attention instead captured by something at the other end of the bar. Twilight followed her gaze, eventually landing on a pair of unicorn stallions, around whom a small group seemed to have gathered. Hovering in front of them were two bottles of cider, punctured in numerous locations along their length.

“What are they doing?” Starlight inquired in a low, inquisitive tone.

“I really have no idea. Experimenting with the explosive properties of alcohol, maybe?”

As they watched, an orange flare lit from the tan stallion’s horn. It sliced through the edge of his partner’s bottle as it flew, shearing away the glass as if it were paper.

“Lass, that there is Magister’s Shots. Ya mean to tell me ya’ve never played?”

Twilight jumped at the sudden intrusion into their conversation. Turning, she found a gray stallion leering at them from the table behind them, the thin lines etching his brow turned up in bemusement.

“I, uh...no, I can’t say I have. Starlight?”

Starlight laughed sarcastically. “I didn’t exactly get invited to parties like this before.”

“Huh... well, you two look well-suited to it,” the stallion said, a smirk beginning to cross his features. “You’re here together, right?”

“Um,” Twilight began, glancing over to Starlight, whose cheeks blossomed with pink but said nothing, “I guess so? I mean, we didn’t come in together, but…”

“Butcha plan to leave t’gether, right?” He winked at Twilight, continuing without waiting for a response. “Fantastic! So, then here’s what you ladies are gonna wanta do…”

The game, as it turned out, was relatively straightforward. Each player had three roles to play: defense, for which they should attempt to move their own bottle out of the line of attack; offense, which involved firing on their opponent’s bottle; and support, which they could use to either heal their own bottle or refill their opponent's. The first two options were always available; the latter used a shot glass provided by the bartender (so that’s what he was doing!) that could either be poured into your opponent’s bottle or melted to fill your own. Striking your opponent was an automatic foul and required the offender to drink the remainder of their bottle.

Easy.

BZZZZ-WAP!

The sound of a bolt from Starlight’s horn grazed past her ears, just barely missing her. Well, it had sounded easy, but in practice made for quite a struggle.

That certainly didn’t stop it from being fun, though.

She grinned as another beam of light flared to life from her horn. It missed as well, barely grazing the bottom of Starlight’s bottle as her own clanged from a direct strike, the now-warm cider spraying over Twilight’s open muzzle.

“DRINK! DRINK! DRINK!” The chant coming from behind them was deafening, their antics having apparently drawn quite the audience.

Twilight didn’t have time to listen to them. The bottle had been fatally wounded by the blow, cider gushing in all directions. Somehow, she had to gather it all up before it landed; it was in the rules. Lighting her horn, she quickly encased the bottle in a magical shield, allowing it to drain unattended.

Now, to deal with the cider that had already escaped the escaped the bounds of her magic. Turning, she saw that her luck had held: the liquid had sprayed out in a single stream. Sparking her magic again, she weaved a magical net in front of the ponies in its path, which caught the cider like flies in a spider web. That complete, she sealed the pooled liquid in the shield inside a second bubble, then floated both batches to her mouth and swallowed the lot of it in a single gulp.

The ponies behind her roared enthusiastically.

Twilight took a breath, feeling relatively satisfied with herself. She couldn’t help but notice Starlight hadn’t resumed her onslaught, however, and the audience was still abuzz with anticipation. Turning around, she looked to the bar in front of her.

Her heart sank at what she saw.

Her success at preventing spillage had been far, far more limited than she’d thought. Contrary to what she had believed, several deep puddles of cider had collected on the sticky bar, just waiting for her to sop them up.

Her stomach churned.

“DO IT! DO IT!”

Twilight looked back to her Starlight, who was watching her through have lidded eyes, a smug smirk crossing her muzzle.

“Yeah, Twilight,” she sneered, her eyes twinkling playfully, “do it.”

Oh, so that’s how this is going to be, Twilight thought, gritting her teeth. Her magic flared brightly, enough even to sting her own eyes, and the pools lifted themselves off the countertop. Bringing them together, as she had with the cider she had successfully caught, Twilight unceremoniously dumped the tainted batch into her own mug. She looked down at the vessel, about a quarter-full in all, then turned back to Starlight, flames of heat flaring in her chest.

“Cheers,” she snarked, lifting the mug in her hooves right to the edge of her lips. She locked her eyes onto Starlight’s, whose expression slid from glee to shock as she tilted the mug far back, its disgusting contents meeting Twilight’s quivering lips.

The crowd behind them rose up in wild applause.

Their hoofstomping alone drowned out the dance beats, their whoops and peals of laughter echoing throughout the hall. The liquid had only been on the surface for a minute, but even so, she could taste the remnants of vomit, sweat, and... who knew what other things had been there that she didn’t want to think about. Her stomach suddenly lurched violently, protesting the uniquely nauseating experience of a long, thin hair dragging over her tongue with the final gulp of cider. It dangled momentarily down her throat, forcing her to seal her lips against the wave of bile rising up her throat. Her eyes watering, she gulped desperately until it the last of it had finally slid slimily down her throat.

The audience still thundering their gratification behind her, Twilight turned back to her friend, her face a mask of rage.

The game was ahoof once again.

BZZT BZZT BZZT!

In a flash of magic, three darts flew from Twilight’s horn towards the hovering target. She turned quickly to her own bottle’s defense, but was stunned by a burst of sparkling light over her head, and could only watch as yet another of Starlight’s strikes hit her bottle dead center. Her dismay was short-lived, her mouth curving into a satisfied grin as she realized the blow had been too high, striking far above what little cider remained in the bottle.

Then she caught sight of a floating shot glass, and her smile vanished.

She blinked.

There was not one, but three, all accelerating rapidly towards their target. How had she even…?

No.

A chill ran down Twilight’s back, the coat along her spine standing on end.

No.

This was not going to happen.

Without thinking, she shot into the air, hovering just above her own bottle.

“Hey, no flying!” somepony shouted, the audience turning on her.

Twilight ignored all of them.

ZZZT ZZZT ZZZT!

Three more bolts, each aimed precisely at the approaching shot glasses.

A collective gasp went up around them as a bright flash shone from the unicorn opposite her. Over the pounding music, Twilight could barely hear the bottles smash against the counter

What she could clearly see was the shield bubble around Starlight, who was gasping for air, clearly in distress.

A cold shock of fear struck her, spreading in her chest, obliterating her anger. Turning to the audience behind her, her heart fell as she observed the admonishing glares worn by the dozens of ponies surrounding them, each appearing angrier than the last.

She swallowed.

The blaring disco lights flashing in her eyes, she spun back towards Starlight, a pulse of intense light revealing what the crowd had been gawking at: A dark streak, stretching from the mare’s left eyelid to the back of her head, cutting a swath through the silky, mauve hair of her mane.

“Oh no!” Twilight squeaked, her heart pounding in her ears as she flew to her friend. The light stinging her eyes, she swallowed thickly as she tried desperately to blink the tears from them.

“Starlight, I…”

She reached out with a hoof towards her friend. Or she would have, had her limbs not been frozen in place, unresponsive to any command.

“Maybe,” Starlight growled, wrapping Twilight in her cyan glow, “it’s time we get you home.”

“Staaaarlight, wait,” Twilight moaned as Starlight dragged her through the doors of the Salty Hoof.

The unicorn spun on her hooves, her teeth clenched. “What, Twilight?”

Starlight’s voice was harsh and raspy, the anger brimming over its edges enough to make Twilight cringe away. Tears rose her eyelids, and she strained to swallow them back down.

“Are—are you okay?” she finally stammered, her voice shaky.

“I’m fine, Twilight. The first blast barely singed my coat; I got my shield up in time to block the other two. If it weren’t for…well, you know,” Starlight rolled her eyes, “I probably would have stopped all three.”

Twilight’s attention was suddenly drawn to the dirt beneath her hooves, and she did her best to ensure she didn’t look away from it.

“I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I’m sorry. I swear I fired at three shot glasses...”

“There was only one. Which you missed, I’ll add.” Starlight sighed, rubbing a hoof against the singed fur on her head to reinforce the point. “You... It’s okay. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry too.”

“Your mane… it’s ruined.”

Twilight facehoofed. That was a really obvious, and stupid thing to say.

“You think?”

Her hooves became supremely interesting again.

Starlight’s voice softened. “Oh, it’s alright, it’ll grow back. Right now, I think we just need to get you home.”

Twilight nodded, starting to trot forward, only for her limbs to cut through the air uselessly.

“Oh, right,” she murmured. “Do you think you could let me down now, maybe?”

“Hmmm. Let’s see if you can behave yourself first.” Starlight flashed her a sly smirk, then began trotting forward, carrying Twilight alongside.

Twilight looked to her right, but the trees flashed by in a blur that made her stomach turn. She quickly turned back, fixing her eyes on the dim lights of the castle in the distance. Suddenly, a gust of wind picked up that blasted her with frigid air, and a shiver wracked her body.

“Bbbrrr. C-c-cold,” Twilight chattered, wrapping her forelegs around herself tightly.

“You’re cold. Oh. Oh! Well, I’ll just add a Calderius minor enhancement to the levitation field I’ve already got you in. That’ll take care of it.”

“Um, are you sure that’s a good idea? I mean, I just…”

“Hay, I’ve got this.”

Starlight smiled, a spurt of flame sprouting from the tip of her horn. Twilight cringed away, closing her eyes. Hopefully, she’d get out of this with a remnant of her coat intact. She was at her former student’s mercy, though, and would just have to trust in her abilities. The unicorn’s magic hummed with energy as it charged within her horn, its electric buzz contrasting sharply with the peace of the evening. Even the soft breeze could be heard, rustling through the few dry leaves still clinging to their branches. Soon, they would be gone too.

The world fell silent again, and Twilight braced herself for the impact of the spell.

The impact never came.

Instead, a gentle warmth began to fill the space all around her. Slowly, it drew the chill from her skin, leaving her pleasantly toasty. It was not unlike the sensation of drying off in the sauna after a long soak at the spa.

Twilight frowned.

It had been far, far too long since they had been on one of those trips together. Rarity used to so enthusiastically collect all of their friends to go to the spa and enjoy all the luxurious services Lotus and Aloe had on offer. There were many afternoons they had spent that way, sharing stories and rumors alike as they enjoyed a relaxing massage at the hooves of a skilled masseuse.

Now, those were just dreams of the past. In the present, she’d spent far too much time cowering like a foal, and so she hesitantly peeled an eyelid back.

Starlight was sitting patiently on her haunches directly in front of her, her forelegs crossed as she smirked smugly.

“Heh.” Twilight snickered tepidly, blushing a bit, “Well, I guess that wasn’t so bad.”

FWOOOM!

In an instant, Twilight’s entire world caught fire.

“Aaaaaah! Fire! Hot!”

Twilight shrieked, pounding her hooves impotently against the air beneath her. Magical flame flickered and sprouted from the bubble surrounding her, licking at her body threateningly. Focusing all the concentration she could muster into her horn, she attempted to conjure a shield, but only succeeded in producing a shower of sparks. She flailed her hooves desperately through the air, still held captive inside the field.

Her heart raced faster as she realized the flames had grown so thick she could no longer see Starlight.

Suddenly, a gout of flame spurted up directly beneath her.

She howled, frantically twisting her body away just as the molten column shot past her, singing the fur on her left flank. Desperately, she poured more energy into her spell, sparks and smoke streaming from her horn.

The shield again failed to materialize.

Sweat beaded on her brow, but evaporated before it could ever run down her forehead. The chamber holding her had become an oven, the hot air searing her lungs with each breath she drew in.

“Starliiiight,” she whined, a hint of hysteria entering her voice, “do something!”

“I’m trying!” came the faint response, sounding almost as desperate as she was.

Twilight squeezed her eyes shut, probing the bubble with her magic for weaknesses. Before she was able to find anything, though, a strange sensation of weightlessness overcame her. For a moment, she felt unable to breathe. This was followed rather quickly by the less-strange sensation of her body slamming into the hard stones beneath her. The impact forced the air from her lungs in a muffled whimper. Even though she was dazed from the fall, the burning sensation persisted, as though her entire body had been dipped in a vat of caustic potion. Though her mind was in no state for it, her body reacted, squirming and tossing itself about on the ground, as if to put out a fire that may truly have only existed in her mind. Suddenly, an icy chill splashed over her body, her coat instantly drenched by an extremely localized downpour.

“Starlight, it’s okay, it’s out,” she said, placing an unsteady hoof in front of herself and lurching upwards much more quickly than she’d intended. Her stomach shot up even faster, and she had to clamp her jaws shut to keep it and all its contents from spilling out. She blinked, taking slow, deliberate breaths to steady herself. Once the world had come back to a more-or-less level position, she began methodically torquing her torso to shake some of the ice-cold water from her coat. As she did, a suspiciously warm breeze picked up, blowing her mane back. She looked up to Starlight, finding her horn aglow with dim light as the wind stole away the remaining drops of moisture clinging to her coat.

“What—what happened there?” Twilight panted as she checked her injuries.

“I don’t know! Something about the levitation spell seemed to make the Calderius enchantment just go crazy. The counterspell I tried didn’t work, and neither did the failsafe!”

Twilight nodded slowly, steadying herself.

“So," she began, drawing in a deep breath, "why didn’t you try just canceling the levitation spell in the first place!?”

A beat.

“Um… oops?”

“Oops? You nearly turn me into pony soufflé and all you have to say is ‘oops’!?” Twilight sputtered, her eyebrows stern.

Starlight swallowed. “Well, uh, now we’re even?”

Twilight wanted to be mad, she was fully justified to be mad, in fact. She would have been totally mad, but it had been a long, long night and no matter how hard she pressed on the “mad” button in her mind, it refused to respond. It just wasn’t that serious, in fact, it was all quite ridiculous: the contest, the fire, the silly look on Starlight’s face.

She gazed at the mare, her cheeks glowing like a Hearthswarming tree, her mouth twisted in an uneven, uncertain smile. Noticing Twilight’s attentions, Starlight lifted a hoof, waving apologetically in her direction.

It was too much.

Before Twilight knew it, she had fallen back to the ground, her body wracked by waves and waves of hearty, happy laughter.

“You know,” she panted, doing her best to pick herself up again without falling back to the ground, “you’ve still got a long way to go before you catch up with me in the ‘messed up with magic’ category, even considering the whole cutie mark—”

Twilight clamped her mouth shut, but the damage was done. Starlight scuffed her hooves silently in the dirt, her face a picture of regret.

An awkward moment passed between them, the knot growing in Twilight’s chest.

“Well,” she muttered, tentatively reaching out with a hoof, “I think I’m okay now, so why don’t we… whooooa!”

In an instant, the ground beneath her simply wasn’t.

Her body listed dangerously to her right, her head bobbing about as if detached from her body, floating away on a nearby cloud. Desperately, she flung her left forehoof out, but that only caused her to tumble forward more quickly. Her stomach rose up in her throat as blackness encroached threateningly at the edges of her vision. Her hooves clattered unevenly against the cobblestones beneath her, one catching in the cracks between them. She cried out as her right ankle twisted painfully, the road rushing up to meet her. She clenched her eyes tightly; this fall was going to hurt.

The ground never came.

Instead, there was a pleasant warmth radiating from the left side of her body. When she again opened her eyes, the world had righted itself.

“Sorry. I... was afraid to use magic again,” Starlight whispered. “I hope that’s okay.”

Twilight nodded dumbly, nosing into the unicorn’s soft coat. Where their bodies touched, the midnight chill was banished once more. The throb of the mare’s heartbeat was relaxing as it pulsed in her mind, and she relaxed into the contact. Starlight wobbled slightly, grunting as she adjusted her hooves, but held firm. Nopony would have mistaken her for Big Macintosh, but she was more sturdy than Twilight would have guessed. In any case, Twilight was just thankful she hadn’t ended up with a bloody snout from having plunged face-first into the rocks beneath them.

“Thanks,” she whispered, repositioning herself so she could meet Starlight’s eyes.

It didn’t work. Instantly, she lost her balance and had to throw a hoof over Starlight’s back to steady herself.

An idea percolated through the fog surrounding her brain. Grinning stupidly, she threw her other forehoof directly onto Starlight’s shoulder.

“Hay, what are you... oof! Twilight!?”

Ignoring her complaints, Twilight wrapped her hooves around Starlight’s chest and pulled forcefully, dragging her torso up onto her friend’s back. Starlight’s legs nearly buckled under the weight, and she swayed from side to side as she attempted to balance the awkwardly-perched alicorn.

Twilight sputtered out a laugh. This was fun! Biting her tongue as a wave of giddiness struck her, she braced her hindlegs beneath her body and sat herself up, one forehoof planted unevenly on each of Starlight’s shoulders.

“Giddyup!” Twilight cried, spreading her wings wide in the most regal pose she could muster.

Starlight didn’t budge.

“Onward, my royal steed!” she shouted again, digging her hooves into Starlight’s sides.

“Okay, that’s it,” Starlight said through gritted teeth.

Starlight’s hindquarters rose as her legs kicked out: she was trying to buck her off! Feeling her balance slip, Twilight wrapped her forelegs around Starlight’s neck and dug in.

“Ecch! Twi—can’t... br—” Starlight choked out, kicking her hindquarters up furiously.

“Ooooooh, a bucking bronco!?” Twilight said, swinging wildly as she clumsily clung to her ride’s throat, snickering at the sputtering sounds coming from beneath her.

There was a loud pop, and her forelegs held nothing but air, in an instant finding herself face down in the dirt once more.

“Well, if nothing else, at least I’ll have plenty of blackmail-worthy material out of this evening, eh?” a familiar voice mumbled to her right.

Twilight scratched her head. She’d heard the words, but somehow just couldn’t make the pieces fit together in her mind. In any case, she needed to get her muzzle out of the dirt, even though her hooves were numb and her mind slow and stupid. Still, she did her best to place each of the useless heavy things beneath her, until a pressure under her torso thrust her up in one swift motion.

“This’sn’t very princess-like,” Twilight mumbled.

“Well,” Starlight grunted, “you just went and got sloshed after your student’s graduation ceremony. I’d say it’s fairly well established that you aren’t the most ‘princess-like’ princess.”

“Pff,” Twilight pffed. “You’re one to talk.”

“Um.” Starlight tapped her horn, then turned to check her barrel, just to make sure. “Yep, horn, no wings. Not a princess. Just a unicorn.”

“Maybe. You’re awful, you know.”

Starlight stopped sharply, every muscle in her body tensing as she planted her hooves into the soft loam. “I... what?”

“Um, sorry, wait... Not what I meant.” Her tongue felt heavy, the words getting harder to put in the right order. She swallowed, trying to push her stomach back down into her chest. “I mean... you’ve, uh, done some pretty awful things, but you’ve grown so much. More th’n me, faster th’n me, I think. Did you notice anything about me earlier? Like, different?”

“Well, you looked a bit like you just found out Spike was actually a changeling?”

Twilight blinked. “Spike’s a changeling? Wow...”

“No, no,” Starlight said with a chuckle. “I just meant you looked sad.”

“Well, I... I am sad,” Twilight said. “Kinda. My friends, they’re all busy with things these days. There’s this great big party, and all I can do is sit at the bar alone... drinking.”

Twilight tapped her hoof on her head, trying to get her thoughts to organize themselves. “They’re... So, you know, nopony even checked on me, how I’m doing, even jus’ some friendly conversation! Yeah, I’mma great friend-maker-pony....”

“Twilight, I don’t think your friends…”

“I…” Twilight felt her voice catch in her throat, her body quaking uncontrollably, the cold biting to her bones. “What if I don’t even have friends anymore…”

Twilight’s body was suddenly jerked to her left, nearly toppling her over as a foreleg pulled her into a tight embrace. Starlight stared intently into her eyes, only inches from her muzzle.

“You... really need to talk about this, don’t you?”

Twilight nodded her head slowly, her eyes glassy. “Watching you earlier, with your new friends, reminded me of when I first met my friends. These days, well, I’m a pretty pony princess, Rainbow’s always off with the Wonderbolts, Rarity has her boutiques... We’re just all spending less time together. I miss it, I miss them. I’m nothing without them, you know. I see what you have with Trixie, and, well, we used to have that. And that scares me, because I want that for us too, and I worry we won’t be able to get back to that.”

“Twilight, I have to admit, I think your other friends would probably be more help than I’ll be. I guess I’m the pony you’ve got right now, though.”

She paused, biting her lip, emotions warring on her muzzle.

“No,” Starlight said with finality.

Twilight blinked. What…?

Starlight rounded on her, her eyes ablaze. “Twilight Sparkle... You don’t get to do this!”

Before Twilight could respond, Starlight placed her hoof firmly over her lips.

“You, you showed me what friendship is, but more importantly, what it means. And this, Twilight, is not it!”

Starlight’s horn flared to life once more, a magical viewer forming before them. In it, Twilight could see... herself and her friends, lounging lackadaisically at the spa.

“Your friends. You should have more faith in them.”

“I know,” Twilight said, her voice thin and creaky.

Starlight waved her hoof at the image dramatically. “You are the model of what friendship is, not just for me, but for all of Equestria.”

There was a bright flash, and the vision changed to show Twilight and her friends standing up to, surprisingly, Starlight Glimmer herself, while she was still the mayor of her village.

“You showed me everypony didn’t have to be the same to care about each other.”

Another flash, and Twilight was watching herself and her friends relaxing on a rooftop. “You’ve helped me see friendship is a natural thing, one that comes from inside ponies. It brings them together, makes them more together.”

Starlight cringed, the image quickly changing to Nightmare Moon’s defeat. Another rod of cold iron fell into the pit of Twilight’s stomach. It was the final blow; the sight of one of her most cherished memories with her friends was too much, and the raw, unfiltered emotions of the night finally began to spill out of her.

“You and your friends have saved the world... multiple times, in fact. You are legends.”

Another flash. The Rainboom.

“Your friendship has the force of fate itself behind it, unbreakable even by the strongest magic.”

Twilight gasped as the image changed once more to a much more recent one, the moment when Starlight accepted Twilight’s own hoof in friendship.

“Without you, I would never have had the magic of friendship in my life. You taught me that it’s okay to slip and fall, that it’s okay to fail... because I have friends who will always be there to help me back up. Just like you did for me,” Starlight swallowed, blinking back tears. “Friendship is a force, one that binds ponies through space and time, one just as powerful as the strongest magics any being in Equestria can summon.”

Twilight jumped as Starlight stomped her hoof without warning, the edge back in her voice. “And that’s why you can’t do this! I have you to thank for everything I have, for all of my friends. But if you no longer believe in the magic of friendship, how can I? How can anypony? If even your friendships can be dissolved by a new job or a couple trips out of town, what chance do any of the rest of us have?”

The glow cut out sharply, and the two mares were alone in the stillness of the night. Twilight sucked in a deep breath, the air whistling through her nostrils, but no words came to her. Instead, she just hurt, a deep, aching hurt. Starlight’s words had dug into her like a knife, carving out her chest, leaving her cold and empty inside.

“You and your friends,” Starlight whispered, breaking the silence, “you’re inseparable. You have to be.”

Twilight felt tears spring to her eyes. “Starlight, I… You’re right. Of course you’re right. My friends and I, we’re more than just the moments we share together.”

She felt a sudden burst of warmth inside of her, the flicker of a candle against the darkness, and she turned her gaze up to the swath of stars Luna had painted against the night sky.

“We share so, so much. I know that I could never forget about them. I should know the same is true of them, too.” She could feel her face broadening, a smile taking hold as tears sprung to her eyes anew. “No matter what happens to us, no matter how distant we become or how much time we spend apart, we will always be there for each other when we need each other.”

“We will always be friends,” she concluded forcefully. “I bet they’d be pretty upset that I questioned that, that I questioned them.”

She looked at Starlight, her vision clouding once more.

“And you know, I forgot something else, too. Or, someone.”

She swallowed, her gaze fixed on Starlight’s expectant, waiting eyes. “Y-you’re here, and you’re a friend, a good friend, and I shouldn’t have disregarded that either. And this... this was supposed to be your night, and I’ve made it all about me. I’m sorry, Starlight.”

“It’s alright. You and your friends, you’re as close as any ponies I’ve ever seen,” Starlight said with a nod, “But you know, I think you’re right too. You probably can’t go back to what you six had before. You all know each other so well, you can practically finish each other’s sentences.”

Starlight paused to look at Twilight, then laughed.

“Ha! You do, don’t you?” Starlight said with a wink, and Twilight couldn’t help but giggle a little through the tears. “You girls have something very, very special. Maybe you just need to take a break, go do something fun together, just for you. I bet you’ll find things aren’t as bad as they seem.”

Twilight nodded drowsily. “Yeah, yeah, I’d like that.”

Without warning, a hoof lifted Twilight’s chin, and the world swam dizzyingly in her vision until the Castle of Friendship towered over her.

“Good,” Starlight said with a smile as she rubbed her eyes with a fetlock. “Now let’s go inside and stop being silly ponies.”

“Alright,” Starlight said, a large cup of water waving in front of Twilight, “say aaaaaaaah!”

“I... c’n handle it myself…” Twilight argued, reaching her hoof out for the glass and nearly toppling over in the process. Reluctantly, she let her go jaw slack, setting her hoof back down to steady herself. The liquid was shockingly cold, almost bitter on her tongue as it washed the sticky remnants of the night’s cider down her throat. Smacking her lips together, she added, “That really doesn’t taste very good.”

“I didn't think it would. You’ll thank me tomorrow for it anyway.”

“Mmmhmm…”

“Now, up to bed. Chop chop!” Starlight said, punctuating the last words with a clop of her hooves.

Twilight danced on air, teetering on her tiptoes as they walked to her room at the end of the long crystal hallway. Starlight kept the pace slow, Twilight doing her best to walk on her own, but leaning into her friend more and more with each step. Reaching her bed, she clumsily flung the covers off, her body falling gracelessly onto the soft mattress, which wrapped itself around her body in a comforting hug. This was good. Bed was good. Her eyelids fell as if the wires that held them up were cut as the sheets and blankets draped themselves gently over her body. As her mind drifted, she heard a light click-click of hooves that grew quieter, more distant with each step.

“Starlight,” she mumbled, the words rolling out of her mouth thickly, like marbles covered in peanut butter, “thank you. You... were exactly... the friend I needed tonight.”

“Yes, of course, thank you,” Starlight whispered, her voice hitching in her throat. She drew in a deep breath that whistled through her lips as she exhaled. “Now, it’s time to rest. Good night, Twilight.”

“Good n—”

The words died on her lips, the puffy blankets around her like a cloud carrying her off to the rest her heavy, uncoordinated body so desperately needed. She reached her hooves out, pulling a thick ball of the fabric into herself. She squeezed them, and she felt her eyes dampen once more.

“Wait!” Twilight moaned softly, the retreating click-clack stopping with her muffled cry. She pried her eyes open, but the world floated weirdly around her, blurring with every small twitch of her head. The sensation made her stomach twist and churn angrily, so she let them fall closed once more. “Stay here…with me?”

“Oh! Um... I…” Starlight’s hooves scratched against the cold crystal floor.

“Pleeeeasshh….”

Twilight could barely give her words voice at all, now. Just forming them meant fighting against the darkness, against the clouds around her mind that made it ever so difficult to concentrate. But being alone felt worse.

“Just... for tonight…”

That was all she had left. Her breathing slowed, no more words coming to her. But, after a moment, the click-clicking started again.

It was growing louder.

As suddenly as it began, it stopped, and a soft weight settled beside her in the bed.

“Okay… just for tonight,” Starlight whispered as the light in the room faded, her hoof gently stroking Twilight’s mane. “Good night, Twilight.”

“G’night,” Twilight mumbled, her mind tipping just on the edge of unconsciousness. She felt a pressure on her chest as Starlight wrapped a limp foreleg over her, and she snuggled into the embrace. As she let herself fall into the void of unconsciousness, a thin, contented smile spread across her muzzle.

Finally, she felt warm.