Imperfect

by SPark

Rating: teen
Tags: Twilight Sparkle, Sad, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Princess Celestia, Slice of Life
Length: 6556

Princess Celestia is absolutely perfect. Everypony knows that, especially Twilight Sparkle. But what if Celestia isn't perfect after all?

Twilight Sparkle knows that Princess Celestia is basically perfect. She never has done and never will do anything truly wrong. Twilight Sparkle believes that with all her heart. So what will she do when she discovers that Celestia isn't perfect after all?

Editing by Jordanis and Cyanhyde.

Cover art by NCMares.

Published 2017-09-19 21:00:06 UTC
Last updated 2017-09-19 21:00:06 UTC

Imperfect

"Twilight! How lovely to see you. What brings you to my office?" Princess Celestia's radiant smile lit up the room like her own sun, and Twilight couldn't help but smile in return. It was one of the nicer things about her ascent to alicornhood; it had given her more opportunities to spend time with her beloved mentor.

"I wanted to discuss a legal matter. Well, it's also a bit of a personal matter." She shrugged, giving Celestia a rueful little smile. "It's a bit of a long story, really."

"Come in, sit down and tell me about it." Celestia stood, herself, moving from behind the paperwork-strewn desk where she did much of the day-to-day work of ruling Equestria and seating herself on a cushion beneath the window, one wing open in invitation for Twilight to join her. Twilight sat on the second cushion, fond memories of childhood moments spent just like this—talking, sharing her problems, learning from the ancient alicorn—running through her mind. "So, Twilight, tell me about this personal and legal matter of yours."

Twilight gathered her scattered thoughts and sat up a bit straighter. "Right. Well, you know my friend Rainbow Dash, of course."

"Of course."

"It seems that since reconnecting with her gryphon friend Gilda, they have developed a, ah, bit of a thing." Twilight blushed faintly.

Celestia chuckled warmly. "They're dating?"

"They were dating. Now they're engaged."

The faintest of frowns flitted across Celestia's features. "Ah, I see. Well, surely your friends do not require my signature on the inter-species wedding certificate, given that yours will do just as well."

"Aha ha, no. I'll be doing that, certainly. But that hoary old bit of bureaucracy is sort of related to why I'm here. You see, Rainbow Dash has always been a mentor figure to an orphan filly named Scootaloo. They're very close. Scootaloo has done fairly well despite the unfortunate realties of the orphanage system. I think in part because of her friends, but also in part because she's has a parental figure in Rainbow. So now she and Gilda want to adopt Scootaloo. But they can’t. Some ancient bit of nonsense even weirder than the marriage laws, about gryphons being unfit parents for pony children. That's why I'm here."

The frown was back on Celestia's face, and lingered this time. "I see," she said somewhat cautiously. "You wish for me to make an exception for your friends."

Twilight blinked, taken aback. "No, of course not! That would be nepotism. I want to simply repeal it. There's really no place for such an outdated relic in modern Equestria."

Celestia's frown deepened. "The laws of Equestria all exist for a reason, Twilight. This one is no exception."

"I'm sure that when the Council passed it they thought it was necessary. I know you don't sign any frivolous laws, so they must have had what sounded like good explanations at the time..."

Celestia shook her head. "This particular law was not passed by the Council. I wrote it with my own hoof."

With a lurch, the world suddenly dropped out from beneath Twilight's hooves. "You... what?" She almost couldn't speak through the sudden lump of inexplicable fear that rose in her throat.

"I wrote it, Twilight. It was necessary."

"But... but it's speciesist. It discriminates against gryphons. You can't be..."

Celestia smiled gently, and reached out a comforting wing. Twilight shivered, not knowing if she should lean into the familiar embrace, or away from the suddenly alien figure sitting beside her. Princess Celestia, her idol, her teacher, her mentor for all her life, a gryphophobe?

"It's not about discrimination, Twilight. The gryphons of Equestria are citizens just like any of my little ponies. However, I cannot in good conscience allow one to raise a pony foal. Gryphons come from a different culture. They have a different lifestyle. They have a different diet, even. A pony foal would swiftly become sick on the food a gryphon chick needs to thrive. For the safety of the foals in question, I banned all such adoptions when the first gryphons settled within Equestria's borders."

"But that... that doesn't make any sense. Gryphons aren't stupid, they all know perfectly well ponies are herbivores. I know Gilda would never try to feed Scootaloo meat. That's ridiculous."

"It's not just the meat. That's only one example. The reasons for this law are many."

Twilight shook her head in negation. "What possible good reasons can there be?"

"Ponies and gryphons are fundamentally different. A foal can simply never be happy in a gryphon household."

"But they're not happy as orphans either! Surely having loving parents, even if they're a little different, is better than having no parents at all?"

"The ponies who run the orphanages take good care of all the fillies and colts there, Twilight. You know that."

"Yes, but it's not the same as having a family of your own. I've looked at the data! When you control for other variables, orphans always do more poorly in school and have more trouble succeeding in later life. Having a family is important in so many ways. I know Scootaloo would be much happier to be adopted than to stay where she is."

"I would be willing to sign an exception for her, given that her other parent would be a pony. I have made a few such exceptions in the past. There's no need to worry about her."

"I... it's..." Twilight floundered, trying to put the mixture of disbelief and sudden outrage she felt into words. "It's not just about her, Celestia. This law is wrong! It's gryphophobic. It's discrimination. There's no way it can be right to forbid loving families from forming just because of some nonsense about incompatible cultures!"

"Calm yourself, please, Twilight," said Celestia, in just that tone of mild disappointment she'd always used when Twilight had failed to finish her homework as a filly. "I've seen the conflicts that arise when gryphons try to raise pony foals. It's simply not fair to anyone involved. Better for the foals to stay in the orphanage system and perhaps have a chance at being adopted by a loving pony couple who can raise them within their own culture."

Twilight shot to her feet, feeling tears gather in her eyes, her emotions a churning froth, impossible to even identify. "That's not true! And older foals like Scootaloo almost never get adopted! What about them? Is it better for them to grow up with no families at all? Is it?"

"I believe it is, or I would not have passed the law," said Celestia calmly, reasonably. "But as I've said, I will happily grant your friends an exception. There's no need to worry about Scootaloo."

Twilight shook her head. She couldn't even think of any more arguments, she just knew that Celestia was wrong. Incredibly, unbelievably, utterly wrong. The tears that had been gathering started to run down her cheeks, and with another head shake, as if she could negate everything she'd just heard, she bolted out of the room and ran down the corridor, away from Celestia, weeping uncontrollably.

The library in Twilight's old chambers was eight strides across. She knew this very well, for she had a habit of pacing when she needed to think. Eight measured strides, turn, take eight more, turn, repeat in a kind of physical mantra that helped her focus on her problems. Today, though, she paced swiftly back and forth, nearly trotting, and her mind raced on a path as short and frantic as the one her hooves traced across the floor.

Celestia, a gryphophobe. Celestia a bigot. It was impossible. It made no sense. It couldn't be true.

It had to be true. Insisting that being raised in gryphon culture would be harmful to ponies was absolute nonsense. Gryphons were a little different, but not that different. The gryphon citizens of Equestria had lived intermingled with ponies for generations now. They were Equestrian, part of Equestria's culture. It made no sense whatsoever to insist otherwise.

Unless you were a gryphophobe.

Celestia had to be. There was no other explanation.

But there must be another explanation, Princess Celestia could not possibly be a bigot. Not her. It couldn't be true.

Twilight paced faster, as if she could outrun the new, unwanted knowledge she'd gained.

"Twilight? Is something wrong?"

Twilight halted and looked up at the stairs leading to the bedroom above. Spike, her assistant, stood at the top, looking down with his brow furrowed in concern. She opened her mouth to assure him that no, of course nothing was wrong, everything was fine, then closed it again. That would be a very large lie, and Spike knew her too well to buy it for an instant. She sank to her haunches, the frantic energy of her pacing suddenly gone. Bleak despair washed over her. "Yes," she said softly, slumping. "Something is very wrong." Tears gathered in her eyes again and she sniffed loudly.

The young dragon hurried down the stairs. "What is it? Are you hurt?"

"Only my heart." Twilight swallowed the lump rising in her throat. "I just got back from talking to Celestia..." She halted. She almost didn't want to tell Spike about what had happened. Maybe if she said nothing, it would turn out to have all been some kind of misunderstanding. Maybe it wouldn't be real.

"Oh yeah, about Gilda and that weird adoption law. What happened?"

"Celestia wouldn't change it. She said she wrote it with her own hoof, and it was a good law that protected foals."

Spike blinked at her. "...what?"

Twilight looked at Spike's confused, innocent face and felt a flicker of anger stir. If Celestia wasn't a bigot, Twilight wouldn't be sitting here, having to hurt Spike the same way she'd just been hurt. "She said," said Twilight, getting to her feet again, her anger rising as she spoke, "that it wasn't safe for gryphons to raise pony foals. That gryphons were too different. That there would be conflicts between pony culture and gryphon culture, and that this means gryphons have to be forbidden from raising pony foals, for everyone's sakes."

"But that's just silly. If different species couldn't raise each other's children, ponies couldn't have raised me!"

"I know!" Twilight stomped one hoof. "It is silly. It's ridiculous and wrong and... and... and bigoted! But Celestia insists it's right. She... Celestia is a bigot. She's speciesist against gryphons."

"But she's Celestia."

"I know."

"She helped you raise me. She signed all those treaties with the Saddle Arabians and the dragons, and... and..." Spike's pleading expression begged for Twilight to chime in, to agree that it couldn't be true.

Twilight sniffled again, anger suddenly replaced by another wash of tears. "I know," she repeated. "But she also signed that law, and I think the one about interspecies marriages too."

"Then what are we going to do? What are we going to tell Rainbow and Gilda?"

"I don't know. Celestia said she'd make an exception for them, because Rainbow is a pony, but it feels wrong that they can have their happy family when others like them can't. But then it's not fair to deny them, and Scootaloo, their happiness, just because others can't have it. I just don't know."

"What about... I mean..." Spike waved his hands aimlessly, fumbling for the words. "What about everything else? What about Equestria? What about being a princess? If Celestia is wrong..."

Twilight felt a shiver of fear go through her. She'd been avoiding thinking about where else this might lead. If the centuries-old ruler of Equestria wasn't the shining beacon of friendship and equality that Twilight had always thought her, what else was not as it seemed? The world around her was suddenly as fragile as glass and as ephemeral as gossamer; the wrong word--the wrong thought--might bring it all tumbling down, for the foundation it had been built on had suddenly vanished like morning dew in Celestia's sun.

She reached out and hugged Spike to her, clinging to him fiercely. "I don't know," she repeated tearfully as he hugged her tightly in return. "I don't know."

Twilight's room at the palace had a perfectly comfortable bed, but it might as well have been made of rocks for all the rest she was getting. She rolled to one side, then to the other, seeking a comfortable position.

Finally she sat up in bed with a soft sigh and rubbed her head with one hoof. Sleep wasn't happening, and it wasn't the bed's fault. Her mind just kept circling back to Celestia. She'd spent the whole evening trying to distract herself with no success. Instead she'd ended up alternately ranting to herself and crying. Lying in bed hadn't improved things at all. She'd given herself a headache, and though on a certain level the tears had been cathartic, they hadn't fixed anything. Celestia was still speciesist, and Twilight still had no idea what to do or feel or think about that.

For the thousandth time she tried to find some way around the inevitable conclusion. Could Celestia really be right? Could it actually harm a pony foal to be raised by gryphons? Gryphon parents could maybe have some erroneous assumptions about ponies, and of course they would lack experience with magic, if the foal should be a unicorn. But earth pony parents raise unicorn foals all the time, she answered herself, and I had all kinds of silly notions about dragons before helping to raise Spike. That didn't make it impossible to figure out what he really needed. Argh! This makes no sense at all. Gryphophobia is the only explanation, but Celestia? It still doesn’t seem possible! But it has to be true.

"Can't sleep?" came Spike's voice from the darkness next to her bed.

Twilight sighed again. "No."

"Thinking about Celestia?"

"Yeah."

"Me too. I don't understand it."

"I don't either. The things she said about gryphons... I expect to hear those sorts of things from somebody's racist grandsire. Not from Celestia."

"Well... somebody's racist grandsire is usually racist because he's old," said Spike. "Celestia is awfully old."

"I guess. I just... she's Celestia! She's supposed to be better than that! She's perfectly progressive about a bunch of other stuff. I mean she didn't even bat an eye when Applejack and Rarity started dating."

"Yeah but didn't you tell me that Luna's gay too? So like... she's had a really long time to get used to that idea, unlike a lot of ponies."

Twilight sighed again. "Still... I just can't wrap my head around it, Spike. I can't. It's so wrong. My whole life feels like a lie. I've always modeled myself after her. I've built all my moral decisions around what I thought she'd do. I've used her advice as a foundation for everything I believe in! All that is suspect now. Nothing I think can be trusted! It feels like the entire foundation of everything in my life just collapsed."

"That's pretty scary," said Spike. He climbed up into the bed next to Twilight and rested one hand on her shoulder. Twilight put her hooves around him and hugged him. When she let go, Spike said, "Maybe though... I don't know. Maybe there's a silver lining to this. Maybe in a way it's kind of a good thing? See, this means now you can build your own morals, and come up with your own idea of what you should do and be. Maybe it's not good to just imitate somebody else, even if she's basically perfect."

"Heh. I guess. Especially since it turns out that she's not perfect. Ugh. This is so..." Twilight waved her hooves around vaguely, not able to even come up with a word that encompassed the entire mess. "But maybe you're right."

"Hey, I'm always right. Obviously you should model your life after me." He gave her a wink and a little elbow nudge.

Twilight managed a faint chuckle at the joke. Spike gave her another hug, then climbed down off the bed and curled back up in his basket. Twilight settled back down in her bed as well. Eventually she heard Spike start to snore, and knew he was asleep. She also knew that Spike had a point. It probably wasn't great to build your entire life around emulating one single pony. It had seemed right and good—safe even—because Celestia was basically perfect, so if Twilight could be more like her, that was guaranteed to be a good thing. But it seemed that Celestia wasn't so perfect after all. So yes, Twilight should probably work on coming up with something better than "What would Celestia do?" It probably would be good for her in some abstract sort of way.

But right now, with her head aching and her eyes puffy and red from crying, it didn't feel like any of this was good in any way. It felt like Celestia had betrayed her personally. It felt like the earth itself had crumbled beneath her hooves and she was falling, unable to catch herself.

It was a very long time before Twilight finally drifted off to sleep.

Twilight woke mid-morning with the sun streaming into her room. Celestia's sun. She wanted to cry all over again just seeing it. There was no sign of Spike, so she rose and set about her morning ritual in silence. Her thoughts were still churning. She turned the argument she'd had with Celestia, the arguments with herself, and the dozens of imaginary arguments she'd had since then over and over and over in her mind as she brushed her teeth and combed her hair. Rage at the sense of betrayal, at the mere existence of such bigotry, and at the horrible unfairness of it all alternated with crushing despair.

Getting breakfast was unthinkable. Celestia haunted the palace kitchens all too often, needing to eat a great deal to fuel her large frame. The thought of running into her was absolutely panic-inducing. Twilight couldn't possibly face her right now. It would end in either a screaming fit or a tearful meltdown, neither of which things she wanted to have at all, let alone in public.

Well, perhaps she should just leave. She'd come to Canterlot to deal with Scootaloo's adoption. That obviously was going nowhere right now, so she might as well go back to Ponyville and figure out what to do next.

That thought felt like relief. She would be getting away from Celestia, away from the hurt and betrayal, away from hoary old laws and inexplicable bigotry. Maybe if she was away from it all she could start thinking more clearly about it.

By the time Spike returned Twilight had packed both their bags. She didn't even bother with the train, she just dropped Spike onto her back, put a levitation spell and a following spell on the bags, and flew from her balcony, bags floating obediently after.

Back in Ponyville, Twilight dove frantically into her responsibilities. She tried to lose herself in her work, coming up with endless projects when those she had on hoof ended.

She still had to deal with Celestia on occasion, but she started having Spike screen her letters, and only read and responded to them when it was absolutely necessary. She had Spike deal with the rest. She didn't know if he was writing replies for her or if he was just throwing them away, and she wasn't sure she cared. Maybe someday she'd be ready to talk to Celestia, but that day wasn't going to come any time soon.

Her frantic activity level meant that she slept less than usual, but being exhausted when her head hit the pillow meant she didn't spend hours mentally circling around Celestia.

Unfortunately no amount of exhaustion could prevent her from dreaming.

Twilight walked the halls of Canterlot Palace. The grand spaces loomed above her, echoing, empty, and far too large. She saw herself walking from some outside perspective for a moment, and saw that she was a filly again, so young that she must have only just gained her cutie mark.

Her tiny steps took an eternity to traverse the carpeted hallways, but she persisted. There was somepony she had to find. She wasn't sure who, but somepony. Maybe she was looking for her friends from Ponyville? Maybe she was looking for her parents?

The emptiness grew more and more eerie as she walked. Where were the nobles, the diplomats, the bureaucrats, the ubiquitous guards? Twilight started to run, her search growing more frantic. Suddenly she arrived at the throne room, standing in the center of the stupendously huge space without ever having gone through the doors. It was dark, far far darker than it should be, but there was just enough light to see the luminously white form seated on the throne.

"Celestia!" Twilight ran towards her.

"Twilight Sparkle. I'm glad you're here. You're the last pony left. Once I have you, all of Equestria will be here, just where they should be."

Twilight stopped. "I don't understand."

"I've decided on a better way than all that tedious ruling. See?" The room brightened slightly, and Twilight could see that the ceiling was packed with hanging changeling pods.

"What have you done?"

"Put them all where they'll be safe. It's for their own good, you know."

"You're not Celestia! You can't be. You've been replaced by Chrysalis!"

Celestia laughed. "Oh no. She's here too, see?" One pod glowed, and Twilight could see the changeling queen imprisoned within it. She could also see that the pod wasn't green, but swirled with the colors of Celestia's mane. When she looked back at the throne the pony on it was still Celestia, but a horrible blend of pony and changeling. She was white, but her horn was jagged, her hooves were full of holes, and her similarly perforated mane and tail hung lank and limp, no longer flowing with arcane power. "I am Celestia. I always have been."

"You're a monster!"

"Indeed," said Celestia, and then she threw back her head and laughed, her fanged mouth gaping wide.

The scene suddenly froze, the laughter cut off, replaced with a calm silence. "Twilight Sparkle?"

Twilight turned to see Princess Luna standing behind her. With a shock she realized that she was dreaming. She snapped suddenly to her adult self, and the dream started to fade around her, melting away into a vague space, a nearly formless sketch of ground to stand on with no real sky above it. "Princess Luna. Thanks. That was... getting kind of intense."

"Aye. Do you wish to talk about why you're having changeling nightmares?"

Twilight scuffed one hoof against the indistinct floor. "It's not really changelings. It's... Celestia. I've been having a lot of nightmares about her lately."

"Ah. Forgive me for not noticing sooner, then. I have been busy of late, but 'tis no excuse to let a good friend suffer."

"It's okay." Twilight heaved a sigh. "It's not like I've been coping well with this while awake either."

"What troubles you? Have you had a falling out with my sister?"

"You could say that. I found out she, well... I think she hates gryphons."

Twilight didn't know what reaction she expected, but it wasn't laughter. "Aye! And the ocean is wet, and the sky is blue."

Twilight blinked. "You mean she really does hate them? But... but why? How can any rational person be speciesist like that? How can Celestia, who's the most loving, caring, calm, thoughtful pony ever hate someone just because of their species? This is Celestia! I mean, the history books talk about you and her enacting the first real anti-discrimination laws!"

"They were laws for ponies, about fighting racial discrimination among the pony tribes, Twilight. It's not the same thing. We had the truth that unicorn, pegasus, and earth pony were all of value written in our own bodily natures. We knew no such truth about gryphons."

"But..."

Luna held up a hoof. "For you the past is found in books, written in impersonal words. You read 'long ago gryphons ate ponies' and it's merely a curiosity. But we lived that reality."

Twilight gaped. "Wait. You mean those records weren't just propaganda?"

"Nay. Yes, we publicized every incident we could find during the gryphon wars, so much of what you may have read was propaganda in a sense, but it was based in simple truth."

"I didn't know." Twilight shook her head. "But... surely the actions of gryphons hundreds and hundreds of years ago is no excuse to treat gryphons badly today?"

"It is not. Nevertheless, you need to understand this. That gryphons once ate ponies is abstract to you, even though you now know it was real. To Celestia that fact has names and faces. Gryphons killed and consumed ponies she knew, Twilight. I do not say this to excuse her, or to argue that her views are right. I don't think they are. But then, I have always gotten along better with gryphons than she. I could understand them, even when I could not condone them. Excuse or no, though, you should know that she has good reasons for her beliefs. Ask her about Twining Bramble some time, if you truly want to understand her hatred. But know that the tale will not be easy for her to tell, nor is it likely to be easy for you to hear."

"I... I see."

Luna reached out and touched Twilight's shoulder gently. "I know you idolized my sister, and this must be very difficult for you."

"Yeah."

"I am very glad that you and Cadance are here, though."

"You are?"

"Indeed." Luna smiled. "I am a walking anachronism, and my sister is very set in her ways. Equestria has stagnated these past centuries. You younger alicorns are the future. When Flurry Heart comes of age, not so many years from now, the future shall outnumber the past, and many such old ideas can be done away with. No doubt I shall find some aspects of that process uncomfortable, yet I believe it will be for the best. So take heart. There are many great things yet to come for you."

"Right now that's not super comforting."

Luna hesitated a moment, then stepped forward and hugged Twilight gently. "I am sorry. I cannot remove your pain or make all right again. No pony can. You must come to terms with this on your own. Yet I shall do what I can. I shall guard your dreams. And if you ever need to speak to me about your troubles, my ear is yours."

"Thank you," said Twilight, and hugged her back.

"Can I get you anything? Tea, perhaps?" Princess Cadance smiled benignly at Twilight from across the table. They were in what passed for a small, intimate meeting room in the Crystal Palace, which meant that it was merely large rather than vastly cavernous.

Twilight twitched. "No. No tea."

Cadance blinked at her, then nodded. "Okay. You said you needed to talk about something?"

Twilight nodded. She opened her mouth, and found herself groping for words. With an almost hysterical internal laugh she realized that she needed a cup of tea to sip, to fill the moment while she gathered her thoughts.

"Twilight?"

"Sorry. I... it's hard to explain. You know I idolized Celestia a great deal."

Cadance nodded, with a small, gentle smile. "I noticed that, yes."

"Well, did you notice I used the past tense just now?"

"Oh. So you have discovered that she is not the idol you thought?"

"You could say that." Twilight sighed.

Cadance put her hoof over Twilight's on the table in a gesture of reassurance. "You finally noticed the way she's used you."

Twilight blinked. "No! I mean yes. I mean I always knew she was, but she was just doing what was best for Equestria, even if it wasn't always ideal for me. I'm not stupid, I've known that for years! I didn't mind it."

"Then what changed? Was it the tax code? That was what did it for me."

"The tax code?"

"Have you ever actually read the full code? They give out those 'personalized' versions so ponies can conveniently see the part of the code that applies to them. It's all very helpful and sensible, but it also just happens to hide a few things. I found out when I decided to get an updated personalized tax code volume a few years ago. If you don't know, then I take it you haven't requested one recently?"

"No, I haven't." Twilight tried to make sense of the nonsense coming from her fellow princess. Celestia and... hidden tax provisions? Surely Cadance couldn't be saying...

"Celestia is very personally wealthy, you know. She doesn't make a big deal of it, but she is. And she doesn't have to pay any taxes at all. Neither do you and I, because she wrote the laws to be about alicorns, so as to only apply to herself. No race-based tax breaks for anypony else."

Race-based tax breaks. Twilight felt like she'd been hit between the eyes. Possibly with a tax code volume. "Seriously?"

"Seriously. I've been paying anyway, because the funds go to the Crystal Empire's coffers first, and we're still actually kind of cash-strapped here--having been non-existent for so long isn't good for trade and being so far north doesn't help either. If I could get the council to lower my salary I'd just do that instead, but they're quite stubborn on the matter! So I pay my taxes like a good little citizen of Equestria. But it only works because I haven't bothered to correct the tax clerks. Nobody outside of the Canterlot Archives seems to actually have the full tax code on hoof."

"That's ridiculous. Possibly even more ridiculous than Celestia's gryphophobia! How does she justify that?"

"She does so much for Equestria, that she doesn't feel the need to support it monetarily. And she has a point. I don't think anypony would object if she gave herself a raise. But apparently she prefers to have her wealth be more under the table than that. That's what got to me at the time, how petty it was. She didn't need to do things that way, but for some convoluted reason of her own she wanted to."

Twilight sat in silence, processing what she'd learned.

"Gryphophobia, huh?" said Cadance eventually.

"Yes! It turns out that not only did she not oppose those old interspecies marriage bans, but she actually wrote the still-standing anti-adoption laws with her own hoof! She hates gryphons because of a bunch of nonsense from centuries ago, and she still thinks that modern gryphons, living today, in Equestria, surrounded by ponies their whole lives, wouldn't be able to figure out how to raise a foal. It's so... so... augh!"

"Yes, I can see how discovering that could be very distressing. You were even closer to her than I ever was, after all. It took me a while to adjust to the idea that Celestia was just as flawed as any pony, but it wasn't that personally upsetting for me."

"And it's doubly idiotic because she has the example of my family and Spike right under her nose! There's literally no reason that cross-species adoption can't work!" Twilight realized that she was ranting, but it was hard to stop. "There has never, not even once, been a reliably recorded case of equivoric gryphon behavior in all of modern record-keeping! She's managed to get with the times on most issues, and it can't be anything other than her own hatred and fear and... and... and... stubborn stupidity that's keeping her in the past on this one!"

"Twilight..."

Twilight realized she'd risen to her hooves, and sank back to her seat, panting just a little bit. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't shout at you about it. I'm just so angry with her."

"I understand. You put her on such a pedestal. Discovering that she can be so deeply flawed is difficult."

Twilight looked down at her hooves. "I shouldn't have idolized her so much. I knew she was just a pony." She let out a sudden snort of bitter amusement. "She told me that herself, many times. She said she wasn't perfect. I just figured that she was perfectly humble, too. I was an idiot."

"You were young." Cadance patted her hoof again. "And Celestia is a very good pony in many ways. She's served Equestria well for centuries. That shouldn't be discounted."

Twilight nodded. "I know. And I know she doesn't dislike gryphons as some kind of personal affront to me. Luna told me a little bit about why. It's not what I'd call rational after so long, but she does have reasons. I just... I trusted her so much. I built my whole personal moral code around asking 'what would Celestia do'."

"So it feels as though she has betrayed that trust."

"Yes."

"And like you don't even have a moral code anymore."

"Yes!"

"What will you do, then, when she wants you to save Equestria again? Will you turn her down?"

"No! Of course not," said Twilight instantly. "That would be letting innocent ponies suffer just because I'm mad, and that would be wrong!" Twilight sighed, and gave Cadance a wry little smile. "I see where you're going with that. I do obviously still have a moral code."

"Yes." Cadance smiled. "You're a good, smart, and strong pony. You'll get through this."

"I hope so."

Twilight Sparkle sat and stared at the letter in front of her, feeling a complicated mixture of emotions. Guilt. Anger at Celestia. Anger at herself. Sadness. Regret. But mostly and above all, determination.

The letter wasn't from Celestia. Spike was still screening those for her. No, this letter was from Rainbow Dash. Scootaloo had broken a wing. Hardly surprising in a pony that wanted desperately to emulate Rainbow Dash's daredevil ways. But Rainbow Dash, despite being her parent in all but name, hadn't been allowed into the hospital to see her at first. Everything had been straightened out since, with the aid of the Ponyville Orphanage, but during those first few hours Scootaloo had been alone, kept from those she loved during a frightening and difficult time. So Rainbow had written Twilight, to ask how things were coming with fixing the adoption law.

If Twilight had just accepted Celestia's offer to make an exception for Rainbow and Gilda, this wouldn't have happened. The wedding had been nearly a month ago. There had been plenty of time since to finalize the adoption. Twilight had attended the wedding, and had thoroughly enjoyed herself at the time, though the reminder of Celestia's bigotry had sent her back into a dark spiral of anger and hurt for days afterward.

Now, though, it was time to step up and fix her mistake. No more brooding. No more pacing and ranting to herself, or to Spike. No more acting like a spoiled child. So what if Celestia wasn't perfect? So what if the laws were flawed, bigoted, and wrong? That just meant that it was time for Twilight to do what she did best and fix things.

"The Alicorn Council is now in session," said Celestia solemnly. "Twilight Sparkle, as you have initiated this session, I turn the time over to you. Please present your agenda."

Twilight Sparkle searched Celestia's calm, serene expression for any hint that she knew what was coming. Stupidity wasn't among her flaws; she must guess that such a meeting, even months later, had to be related to the issue that had sent Twilight crying from her office the last time they'd spoken. Though maybe not. Maybe their sparse but polite contact via letter since then had led her to think everything was back to normal. After all, Twilight frequently had long periods of spotty communication when she was deep in the throes of research. Either way, Celestia's practiced mask revealed nothing.

Luna, however, had a knowing look about her. She probably could guess better than Celestia what might be on Twilight's mind, which was a very strange thought. And unlike Celestia, she had never cultivated a mask. Her feelings always showed plainly on her face.

Cadance simply smiled cheerfully, a different expression than Celestia's, but possibly serving the exact same purpose, Twilight realized. Well, flawed or not, there were certainly things about Celestia that were worth emulating. Twilight was still in the process of sorting through what those good things might be, and what things were actually vices rather than virtues.

She turned her gaze back to Celestia, wishing she knew what thoughts, good or bad, might be passing through her mind as they all sat and waited for Twilight to gather herself and begin. Suddenly it dawned on her: for the first time in her life she was looking at her former mentor and not seeing a goddess. She wasn't seeing a nightmare betrayer, either. The hurt and betrayal did still linger, but she was finding ways to deal with it.

No, she was looking at Celestia and seeing a pony. Just that. A pony who was loving, caring, intelligent, and many other wonderful things. A pony who was bigoted because of her past and who had a startlingly casual disregard for the importance of paying taxes. A pony who probably had other flaws, too. But so what? Twilight had many good traits, but she was also neurotic to a fault, prone to obsession, far too asocial, and utterly oblivious of anything that wasn't recorded in a book somewhere. And that was just the faults she was aware of off the top of her head--there were probably more she hadn't noticed.

So there they were, two ponies with both virtues and vices, like any two ponies. The only real difference was that as alicorn princesses they had a responsibility towards Equestria. So. Time to discharge some of that responsibility.

"Thank you all for coming. I have one main topic I'd like to discuss today. It's time to update Equestria’s adoption laws."

Author's Note

It probably goes without saying that some of my own personal experiences went into this story. It's a bit of a vent fic. When somebody or something you trusted deeply turns out to be badly flawed, it's not a pleasant experience. But such experiences are often a necessary part of growing as a person.

Edited to add: All comments debating racism, bigotry, homophobia, etc. and all comments with personal attacks, slurs, etc. have been removed. I have zero interest in debate about this story as it relates to modern politics/race issues/whatever. It was inspired by personal experience but it is not a direct report of actual experience in our world. It is also not intended as a political soap box. If you see it that way, that's your problem, not mine. (And both "racism is bad" and "racists believe they have good reasons for being racist" should be non-controversial statements. I thought they were when I wrote this.) If you want to discuss this story as a story, feel free to be positive or negative about it, so long as you remain civil. Anything else will be summarily deleted.