Of Shooting Stars

Of Shooting Stars

Chapter 4: Marriage

“We have to do something, Twilight!” Spike whined.

Twilight lowered a sheet of parchment so her flat gaze fell upon the flailing dragon trying desperately to keep himself clinging to the table edge. Silently, her sights shifted downward, dragging across the tabletop. Filling the space between the two was a minefield of papers, some crumpled, and others abandoned after a few short lines. As though hoisting a ball and chain, she returned her attention to the parchment in her magic. Scraping the back of her mind like nails on a chalkboard, the distant “mom” accompanied by a tugging at her tail drew a twitch of her eye.

“No,” she said, flatly. Unevenly, she took a deep breath, shoulders rocking as she did, and turned her attention down to Light. The filly stared back, wide-eyed, from the floor with her hoof wrapped tight around Twilight’s tail. “What is it, sweetie?” Twilight asked, in a weak, but an affectionate voice.

“Can you play tag with me?” Light asked, tilting her head.

Suddenly a strand of Twilight’s mane sprung up in a curl. “Light, what was my answer the last thirteen times you asked?”

“But I didn’t ask to play tag be—” When she noticed Twilight flinch, she shrank. “Later?”

A small smile pressed its way across Twilight’s lips. “Because Mommy is very busy.”

“Twilight, I’m serious!” Spike cried out, waving a claw to grab the mare’s attention before swiftly grabbing the ledge again so he didn’t fall. “Rarity needs our help!”

At that moment, a sharp stab shot through Twilight’s brain. Akin to a hot needle through ice, she could almost hear the squeal through her skull. She closed her eyes for a bit longer than a blink as she drew in a calculated breath. Mentally she counted, one, two three. When she opened her eyes again, she turned to Spike. Eyes locked to him, she waited to exhale before drawing in a breath to speak. “Spike, I said no. The Falling Leaves Festival speech I’m writing right now and toddler I have to entertain—alone, mind you—is a little more important than Rarity having an issue with her landlord in Canterlot.”

“It’s not fair though, Twilight! Can’t you do something?”

Another stab and possible squeal. Twilight pressed a hoof to her forehead, a small whimper escaping her lips as she pushed the pain aside. “What exactly would you like me to do, Spike?” After she finished rubbing her forehead, she jabbed her hoof forward. “I can’t just tell Rarity’s landlord to lower her rent by ‘royal decree.’ Do you know how bad that would look?”

“Why not?”

Twilight’s head snapped to the side on impulse, her eye twitching with it. “I would rather not set a precedent that I show favorites among my subjects.”

“She’s under a lot of pressure right now, Twilight! And if she can’t make rent, it’ll ruin her!” Spike swung his lower half up so his foot was atop the table. It only lasted a mere moment before a magenta manifestation akin to a fly swatter materialized and smacked his foot off. “You know how much that shop in Canterlot means to her!”

“And I’m not under a lot of pressure?” Twilight muttered, eyes briefly returning to the tabletop disaster zone.

“With the new Fall line and fear of losing her store in Canterlot, she’s struggling!” He puffed out his cheeks with a firm glare focused right on Twilight.

“Look, Spike. Rarity is a big girl. She thrives under this kind of pressure.” Twilight lifted her parchment once more, obscuring the glaring dragon from view. “She runs three storefronts and is one of the premier fashion designers in Equestria. I’m certain she would find it insulting you think she needs me to interfere in her business.”

“What if her landlord is breaking the law?” he asked.

“Again, Rarity or Sassy, her business manager, would be well aware of that.” Twilight poked her head around her parchment. “You know Rarity. She’s just blowing this out of proportion. Whining when things are tough is twenty percent of what she does, but it’s just to vent. In the end, she gets everything together and it all works out.”

“I don’t know…”

Twilight narrowed her eyes. “I do.”

A familiar tug emanating from her tail, along with a returning mantra soon graced her ears. “Mom, will you play hide and seek with me?”

Another curl sprung up from Twilight’s mane. “If you insist on helping somepony, Spike, why don’t you play with Light so I can focus on my work.”

“But, Twilight!”

“Spike, please?” she asked, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

After a moment, the dragon sighed. “Alright.” He dropped to the floor and meandered to where Light was tugging on her mother’s tail. “Come on, Light. I’ll play with you.”

As Spike motioned with his claw for Light to follow, the filly jumped up. Like a blur, she scampered out of the room with a pleased little grin on her face. Following shortly behind was Spike as he eyed Twilight while leaving.

“Thank you, Spike,” Twilight said softly just before the dragon left. With the two distractions gone, Twilight looked upon her speech once more. The lone line of “My fellow Equestrians,” stood at the top of the page like a brick wall blocking her way. Sheer openness invited infinite possibilities and that in itself was too daunting to continue. Where should she go with it? What would encapsulate the moment best? Questions continued piling on as Twilight found herself massaging her temples. Each new query felt like a twist of an invisible clamp her head was stuck inside.

An exhausted groan slipped past her lips without her even realizing. She turned her attention to a small stack of three books and grabbed them in her magic. “Start with an anecdote? Not as a cold open and too informal to boot.” With that, she tossed the first book to the side. “Inspirational story? It’s not a graduation ceremony.”

Twilight slammed the remaining books down on the table. “It’s a Wonderbolt show for crying out loud! So why can’t I put a speech together that captures ponies’ excitement and introduces the event?” she asked, burying her head under her forelegs Silence didn’t answer the question she posed, but it didn’t have to. Creeping from the depths of her chest and worming its way into her mind was the answer why.

Because you’re not introducing ‘just a Wonderbolts show’ you’re trying to stay on your wife’s good side, you silly girl…

Just then, a soft clang, almost like wind chimes, cut through the still of the library. Twilight poked an eye free from her hiding spot to see a crystal by the door glowing white slightly as the sound emanated from it.

She furrowed her eyebrow. “Why?” she asked, slinking from her seat. “Why is somepony at the door now of all times?” A groan dropped from her lips as she touched the floor. Between Spike’s nagging, Light insisting, and now a visitor, it was as though the universe itself was conspiring against her working on this speech.

Brow furrowed and lips pursed, Twilight made her way to the door. Leaving the library, she ventured down the long hall past the stairway leading upstairs to the family living quarters. Just as she cleared the stairs, Light landed with a thunderous clap, and carried by her momentum, slid across the floor.

“Somepony’s here!” the filly called out, scrambling onto her hooves and zipping past Twilight, boasting a wide grin as she left her mom in the dust.

Twilight raised a hoof to stop her, but soon caught sight of Spike racing after. Left with no choice, she picked up the pace, chasing after the two. Past the throne room, and through the main hall, the two, towering front doors stood, Twilight caught Spike huffing and puffing next to Light dancing on her tiphooves.

“Somepony’s here!” she repeated, bouncing up and down.

“I heard the chime too,” Twilight said with a spark along her horn. An aura appeared around the door handle, opening it slightly—which was more than enough room for two ponies to walk in comfortably side by side—revealing the one whom the chime tolled. Peeking from around the other side was a white-coated unicorn mare with a purple and white mane styled much like Twilight’s.

“Grandma!” Light lept into the air. Dashing off as soon as her hooves hit the ground, she lunged into the waiting hooves of Twilight Velvet.

“Hello there, sweetie,” Velvet said with a chuckle. Not missing a beat, she brushed the tip of her nose against Light’s.

“Mom?” Twilight raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing here?”

“You know, I’m just a train ride away and I feel like I don’t see my granddaughter enough.”

Light squealed, squeezing Velvet harder. When the show of affection ended Light used Velvet’s shoulder as a makeshift stool. “Is Grandpa here?” the filly asked, peering behind the mare.

“He was busy with work.” Frowning, Velvet used her magic to pick light up. She set Light on her back as she ventured into the castle foyer proper.

Dejected, the filly dropped to her haunches. “I wanted to show him how good I’ve gotten at magic.” Her ears fell flat for only a moment before she perked back up. “But I can show you!”

Twilight cleared her throat. “She’s getting a basic grasp on levitation,” she clarified, to which Velvet nodded with a laugh. “But visiting from Canterlot,” Twilight forced a smile, but her eyes didn’t share the enthusiasm. A deep-seeded panic clawed its way out through them giving her gaze the look of a filly free falling in flight school. “Unannounced,” she added, the dread seeping into her voice.

“Bad timing?” Velvet cocked her head.

“Little bit.” Twilight glanced over her shoulder, hearing the ghostly voice of obligation calling her back to the library. She whined softly to herself before facing her mother again. “I’m working on a speech, and I just got Spike and Light out of my hair.”

Spike let out a disgruntled mumble.

“Hi, Spike,” Velvet said, looking down at him as he stood with his arms crossed. “How’s my favorite little dragon?”

“You know,” he tapped his foot, “thanklessly keeping Twilight’s life in order.”

“It’s a full-time job,” Velvet strolled up next to him and placed a hoof around his back. After giving Spike a sweet smile, she looked back to Twilight. “So, speech?”

At the mere mention of speech, Twilight’s stomach twisted in knots. Images of mostly empty papers jabbed her brain like needles in a pincushion, only making her heart race. But worrying wasn’t going to magically write the blasted thing for her. So she did the best she could in pushing her concerns out of her mind, at least for the time being. “Yeah, speech. Falling Leaves Festival next week.”

Hoof pressed to her lower lip, Velvet frowned. “You weren’t going to tell your father and I you would be in Canterlot?”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “It was going to be a surprise.”

Sweet, but possibly hollow words meant to appease—and after years of being a parent, Velvet wouldn’t be tricked so easily by a simple sentiment. Skeptical eye raised at Twilight, she cracked a devious little smirk. Positioned within reach, the perfect lie detector rested right on her back. “Oh?” Like a sly cat, Velvet craned her neck back, looking Light in the eyes. “Light, were you coming to see Grandma next week?”

“Yeah!” The filly beamed.

Satisfied, Velvet gave a small nod. “Then I won’t spoil it for your father,” she said to Twilight.

As Velvet and Light both giggled to one another, Twilight let out a sigh. Light would throw an absolute fit if Velvet left now, and on top of that, there was absolutely no way Velvet would leave either. Using her magic, Twilight closed the giant castle door and folded her ear back in resignation. “Well, since you’re here, you should come in and have some tea.”

Velvet stepped past Twilight, down the main corridor. With an almost gratingly jovial smile, she glanced back with Twilight lagging behind. “Is it an earl grey sort of day?”

Another sigh before Twilight said, “It’s looking like it, yes.”

With a steaming kettle in hoof, Twilight stepped into the living room. Through the doorway, she turned her eyes to the sofa where she found her mom and Light sitting on the couch. Light perched precariously on Velvet’s lap, staring with a dopey grin as her stuffed ursa paraded around the coffee table. As Velvet used her magic to make the plush rear up and raise its arms, she roared. The sight forced Light into a flurry of giggles, tumbling off Velvet’s leg and onto the couch cushion behind.

“He’s gonna get you,” Velvet said in a teasing voice.

The sight brought a small smile to Twilight’s face, and for a fleeting moment, it even cast the creeping anxiety from her mind. The reprieve was only temporary when a sudden impact with her hind leg pulled her back to the moment. Spike walked around her side, glaring slightly with two teacups in hand.

“Why did you stop?” he snapped.

“Why are you so cranky?” Twilight turned her nose up at the dragon.

Spike grumbled and set two cups on the coffee table. Twilight followed behind, pouring hot water into the cups, already adorned with their teabags. As steam rose, Spike took a step back. “I’m going to go see what Starlight’s up to. Maybe she’ll be in less of a bad mood.”

“You’re so understanding, Spike,” Twilight said, rolling her eyes as she took a seat on the adjacent chair. “I think she’s with Trixie, so don’t let them get you wrapped up in some mess or whatever.”

“Yes, mom,” Spike replied sarcastically with a dismissive wave of his claw upon his exit.

After a few moments without Spike, Twilight levitated the teacup up to her eye level, watching the liquid inside slowly turn from clear to a caramel brown. A small whiff, taking the bergamot scent in. “So, you didn’t want to go see Flurry?” she asked, shifting her sights over to Velvet.

“She’s a little far for a day trip.” Velvet made the stuffed bear crouch and then leap off the table into Light’s forelegs before patting her head. “Besides, your brother and Cadance said they would come to Canterlot next week.” Lifting her teacup, Velvet met Twilight’s gaze with the perfect amount of smug satisfaction to strike her right where it hurt; a calculated pang of guilt only a mother could deliver.

“The Wonderbolts are performing. Obviously, we would come since my wife is in the show.”

Velvet’s shoulders rocked as she settled into the cushion. “Spike’s right. You are in a bad mood.”

Twilight pulled the tea bag from her cup and placed it on the small saucer accompanying her mug. “I’ve had a lot on my mind.” She took a small sip. The fruity aroma flooded her mouth and nostrils, washing over her body with a relaxing warmth.

“Mom and dad are having a spat,” Light said with an innocent laugh.

Twilight almost choked on the mouthful of hot tea, quickly covering her lips as to avoid spitting it all over the living room. “Morning Light!” she managed to say after somehow swallowing.

The smug satisfaction quickly left Velvet’s face, replaced with a small frown. Moving her hoof from the top of Light’s head to the filly’s back, she gave a small pat. “Why don’t you go play with your ursa for a little bit?” she offered, looking down to Light, finding her ears flat after Twilight raised her voice.

“I’m sorry,” Light said, head drooping.

Velvet put on a sweet smile for her. “You’re not in trouble, but you shouldn’t go telling other pony’s business.”

“Okay,” the filly muttered, dropping to the floor. Defeated, she dragged her stuffed bear off the couch with her in a flickering magenta aura.

Once Light left the room, Velvet turned to look Twilight in the eye once more. “It’s not just the speech, is it?” she asked, testing the depths to which the answer went.

Twilight paused, deeply inhaling the steam rising from her cup. The soothing herbal smell filled her lungs, warmed her chest, and soon relaxed her body for a wonderful moment. “It’s a bit of everything.”

Bringing her cup to her lips, Velvet nodded. “Pressure from the job, a wife who’s busy, and taking care of a filly alone?” A short laugh as she stared down into her cup. The reflection she focused on vanished under a blanket of ripples from her breath. A moment longer, and she took a sip. “So what did Rainbow do?”

“Nothing,” Twilight replied flatly.

“Nothing?”

“Absolutely nothing.” Twilight turned to her mom. She took a deep breath, inhaling the soothing steam once more. “It’s me. A lot of it’s in my head, and I’m pressuring her from the start.”

“For what?” Velvet asked, taking a sip.

As soon as the question hit her ears, Twilight’s heart sank. The conversation she had with Rainbow after their date echoed in her mind. What she thought was a neat little package tied with a bow turned out more like a travel trunk packed so tight it might burst. Such a simple desire—adding to their family—wasn’t so simple in practice. And further, was it even what she wanted? “I don’t even know…” Twilight finally said, head drooping.

“Well, what started it?” Velvet tilted her head, returning her gaze to her cup.

“I wanted to have another kid.”

Once Twilight spoke, Velvet took a sip and looked back to her daughter. “And Rainbow didn’t?”

“She still doesn’t.” Twilight sighed. I get the feeling she’s not being honest about that—” she continued after a moment “—and I think I resent her for not being around.” A momentary flash to the date they had the previous week.

A week passed before I even knew it. Between this speech and Rainbow’s practice, so much for spending more time together.

The room fell silent as Velvet took another small sip of tea. She let the liquid sit in her mouth for a short while, the flavor wrapping around her tongue. “Is that why you want another?” she finally asked after swallowing.

“It would keep her around more.” Twilight pinched her eyes shut. “She’s a good dad,” sensing Velvet’s inevitable disagreement brewing, Twilight said, swiftly nipping that in the bud. “I know for a fact if we had another she’d take the time off work to be here for me and Light.”

“That’ll only last a month or two, dear.” Once more, Velvet stared down into her cup, a small laugh escaped her lips.

Inappropriate it may be, Velvet had a point, and Twilight knew that. In a few months, they would be right back where they were, Twilight stuck at home with a mountain of work and a student to look after, but with two children instead of one. Still, despite that, it offered time—sweet, tempting time. When Twilight opened her eyes, she, too, stole a quick sip of her tea. “It’s short-sighted, but a new foal will—”

“But why do you want one?” Velvet interrupted, shifting her sights to Twilight.

Their gazes met, and Twilight bit her lower lip. She opened her mouth and the answer slipped out before she even realized what she said. “I want her to be happy.”

Velvet raised her cup, inspecting the glossy ivory-colored surface. The mare pursed her lips as the soft tick of a clock filled the otherwise silence. “Do you know why your father and I had you after Shining?”

“Not really.” Twilight’s ears fell flat.

“I worked at home and your father was busy with his job at the office. Your brother was just starting preschool, so you can imagine I was feeling pretty lonely.” In her magic, Velvet slowly spun the cup around, her eyes following the flower-like folds of the teacup. “I asked your father if he wanted another, and he, at first, wasn’t too thrilled.”

“So, how did you convince him?” Twilight leaned forward, slightly.

Velvet’s cup halted, and the mare flicked her gaze back to Twilight. “I didn’t,” she said with an almost teasing smile.

“Mom.” Twilight groaned.

“I’m serious.” Cup to her lips, Velvet spoke, her breath sending ripples across the surface of her tea. After a small drink, she lowered the cup to the table. “I wanted a foal because I was ready to have another and your father decided the same later.”

A frown soon appeared on Twilight’s face. “How does that help me?”

“It doesn’t.” Covering her mouth, Velvet let out a small giggle. “But hopefully it makes it a bit more clear.”

Suddenly, the urge to smack her mom on the shoulder came, and just as quickly went without action. Games aside, it was the same thing, Wasn’t it? Clarity and help? As Twilight narrowed her eyes, Velvet didn’t let up. That grating smirk spread ever wider across her lips. “You’re really not helping.”

Velvet rolled her eyes in response, a barely audible groan cutting the air. “Let me ask again then.” With a small pause, Velvet closed her eyes and took a calculated breath. “Why do you want another foal?”

“I told you, I want Rainbow to—”

A magenta haze pressed Twilight’s lips tight together as Velvet raised a hoof. “That’s not the reason you want to have a foal, Twilight.” Raising one eyelid, she met her daughter’s gaze. She then flicked her ear in Twilight’s direction and her magic faded.

Twilight narrowed her eyes. “Okay, so ponies keep telling me marriage is a compromise; I have to give and take.” Hoof pressed to her forehead, she sighed. “So what, now I need to be selfish?”

Like a sour note just broke a musical cadence, Velvet cringed. Ears folding back, she swatted away Twilight’s question. “Absolutely not,” she said with a hiss. “Marriage is filled with compromise, but this isn’t a compromise.”

Eyes in her tea, Twilight pressed the tip of her hoof to her lower lip. “Are you saying making Rainbow happy isn’t a valid reason to have a foal?” She shook her head. “Basically, I want to have one for the wrong reason then?”

Velvet shrugged. “Maybe you do?” Once more, Velvet paused to take a sip of tea. When she swallowed, she set the cup on the table. “Maybe you don’t. You’d have to actually answer my question first.”

Twilight’s jaw hung slack for a short while. “I want Rainbow around more—” Twilight pinched her eyes shut “—I miss her.”

Silence fell as the remnants of Twilight’s voice faded to nothingness. Slowly, Velvet brought her teacup to her lips once more. After a soft slurp, she took a deep breath and sighed. “Throwing a tantrum won’t do that.”

“You said you wanted me because something was missing, right?” Twilight finally asked, turning to her mother. As she stared deep into Velvet’s eyes, her eyes quivered, a small tear bead building on the corner of her eye. “What’s different? What makes my missing Rainbow different? Isn’t it the same loneliness?”

Velvet nodded for a moment. Her eyes said the answer was easy, but the calculated expression accompanying told said answer needed delicacy. Licking her lips, Velvet took a short breath. “I didn’t want another kid because I missed your father, Twilight.”

“Then what?”

Gaze down in her teacup once more, Velvet rolled her lower lip under her teeth. Once her lip popped free, she cracked a smile, eyes lost in her own reflection. For another moment, she stared silently, until she could finally pull herself from the pristine surface. “I wanted another foal because something was missing in my life.” She pressed a hoof to her chest. “I didn’t know what it was, but I felt it. A hole. A big, deep hole right in my heart, nagging at me every single day.”

Twilight’s gaze widened, the building tear disappeared.

“And that something was you.”

Twilight furrowed her brow, hiding her flushed cheeks behind her teacup. “Mom…” she muttered before slurping down a mouthful of tea.

Velvet chuckled. “Listen, you shouldn’t want another foal to make Rainbow happy—that’s too much to place on a child and it’ll strain your marriage.” Velvet inched off the couch and stepped towards her daughter. “I know what you and Rainbow went through with Light—it would have been so easy to quit, but you didn’t. Both of you wanted her.” She placed a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder as the alicorn continued drinking her tea. “I know I wasn’t the biggest help along that path, but it was what you two wanted.”

Twilight continued to keep her muzzle buried in her cup as she let out a groan.

“Your second one should be the same.” Using her Magic, Velvet pulled the cup from Twilight’s mouth. “You should want another foal first and foremost, Twilight. Once you know for sure, then ask Rainbow. You’re not going to convince her unless you really want one yourself, after all.”

Twilight pinched her eyes closed. She swallowed what tea she had left before her mom took away her coping mechanism. Once her mouth was free, she took a deep breath, the lingering bergamot flavor on her tongue filled her lungs. When she exhaled, her chest felt lighter than it had all day. “I think I want another foal.” Her heart sank and immediately she shook her head. “No, I know I do.”

Velvet tilted her head. “You’re certain?”

After a brief pause, Twilight nodded. “Absolutely. I want Rainbow to be happy, and I think having a pegasus filly would make her happy, but I want one too. Not a pegasus. Whether it’s a pegasus, earth pony, or a changeling—I want another foal. I’m not sure I feel the way you described, but I feel like there’s some shimmer—or a light—in the corner of my eye, just begging to be real when I go to look at it…” She turned to meet her mom’s gaze. “Does that make sense?”

As Twilight bit her lower lip, Velvet laughed. She grabbed Twilight’s head with her foreleg and pulled it to her chest. “You’ve always been headstrong. Knowing you, you’ve had your mind made up from the start, but probably lost sight of it in whatever fight you two had.”

“It still doesn’t change Rainbow’s mind…”

“That’s where the compromise comes in,” Velvet said with a wink. Dropping her hoof, Velvet rubbed Twilight’s shoulder. “Did that help get something off your chest so you can focus on your speech now?”

Twilight hopped up and wrapped her forelegs around Velvet. “Yes, it did. The speech isn’t what’s important, but I feel better.” She squeezed tight for a moment before pulling away. “Though I’m still thinking how I’m going to approach this, and if she’s kept up her end of the bargain we made.”

“That’s out of your control, for now, sweetie.” Once again, Velvet let out a small laugh. “Don’t hold it against her if she hasn’t though. She’s busy preparing for her big show.”

Twilight pushed away from her mother, giving her a skeptical glance. “You, playing defense for Rainbow? Am I sure I’m not dreaming right now?”

Velvet stared at her flatly. “Look, you had me at ‘another granddaughter.’ So don’t blow this by hounding her, even if I don’t like her that much. Leave that part to me when her show’s done.”

“Right.” A nervous smile appeared on her face as she met her mother’s eyes once more. “Speaking of the show, could you do me a favor and watch Light while I work on my speech?”

A big smile spread across Velvet’s face. “Spend time with my granddaughter? Twist my leg, why don’t you, Twilight.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Twilight squeezed her mom once more.