Chapters Of Shooting Stars
Chapter 1: Decisions
Moonlight spilled through the window, painting the dim room with a heavenly white glow, covering the titanic-sized bed against the adjacent wall. The plump mattress sat nestled inside four skyward posts, a satin purple cloth draping down the rigid, crystal frame and running over the sparkling floor. Silky purple cover flowed from the mattress top, shuffling as a figure moved under the sheets. With each movement, the soft squeal of springs rang out in the otherwise quiet night.
The animate mass shot up, and the obscuring bedsheet fell to the wayside revealing two mares. A sweet moan escaped the top mare’s lips as she pressed her muzzle down into the matted mess of mane below her chin. Strands of barely discernible red, orange, and yellow flooded her vision, but she buried herself deeper in the humid trappings. Pressing further, nuzzling softly until her nose was all but buried under the unruly locks. Scents of rain and sweat flooding her nostrils with every sticky breath, staining her nostrils. She squeezed tight the smaller mare, her hind leg stepping in front of the other’s for leverage. With a solid buck, the bed to squealed once more, rocking from the force.
Another moan, this time into the mare’s pale blue ear. It twitched as her sultry breath brushed along the sensitive hairs. Sinking deeper inside the mare’s sex, her vice-like grip squeezed around the new appendage between the first’s legs. A jolt of bliss shot straight through her entire being; her knees almost gave out. “Dashie,” Twilight murmured breathlessly and making her lover’s ear twitch once more.
“Twi,” the mare replied back with a weak voice, cracking under the strain.
Once more a tight squeeze gripped Twilight’s cock, tugging her deeper in as she tried to pull herself free from its iron grip. She whimpered, biting her lower lip. “I’m going to cum soon,” Twilight said amidst a haggard breath.
Rainbow let out a high-pitched whine followed by a sharp breath. “Me too.” She turned her head, meeting Twilight’s half-opened gaze from the corner of her eye, staring deeply, yearning for her lover’s hot load to fill her.
Spurred further by the lustful gaze, Twilight teetered on the edge. She pinched her eyes tight, shutting out all but that image. Then she thrust her hips one final time with enough force to plow the pegasus face-first into the pillow. Even the bed lurched an inch. With that, she loosed a sharp cry as a wave of pleasure crashed upon her mental shores, washing away her thoughts. All but one—breed.
A hot blast of cum flooded Rainbow’s tight cunt, milking the alicorn for all she was worth. Squeeze, twitch, and burning—her sensitive member drowned in those sensations until Twilight thought she may lose her mind. But before long, her senses dulled. As the orgasmic haze over her mind receded, she let out a small, pleased sigh making Rainbow’s ear twitch once more. “That’s it. Get pregnant with our foal, Dashie,” she whispered, her eyes drifting closed.
The pegasus’ ears perked and her eyes shot open once the sweet murmur registered through her own mental fog. With a swift buck, her hind end soared overhead, and she threw Twilight off her.
Twilight’s cock slipped free, and Twilight toppled onto the bed with a flop. When things settled, she searched around the room. A shadow over her caught her eye, her lover the one looming, glowering down like an ursa major woken early from a nap.
“Are you serious?” Rainbow hissed through grit teeth; her eyes narrowing like a laser right into Twilight’s. She pulled her burning gaze for a moment down between her legs as a lone drop of Twilight’s seed fell freely onto her lover’s softening cock. “This stuff better not be working, Twilight!” she snapped as she shoved her anger back into Twilight’s face once more with a burning scowl.
Twilight shrank back into the sheets. “It’s not. I just—”
“There’s no ‘just,’ okay?” Rainbow stomped her hoof on the mattress, shaking the bed. After a moment, her look softened, betraying the small quiver in her pupils. “This is the second time you’ve scared me like that. I’m seriously going to cut you off from being on top if this is your idea of a joke.”
“I-it’s not a joke.” Twilight clapped her forehooves quietly together twice, then rolled them across one another. “We are both mares, and I happen to…” Her face tinting red in the dim light of the moon spilling in from the window. “I think the idea of us impregnating one another is erotic,” she finally muttered with a slight chuckle.
“You get off on it?” Rainbow pressed a hoof to her forehead as she collapsed next to Twilight. “You’re killin’ me, Twi,” she finally said after catching her breath. “I mean, I’m about to have a heart attack here over a throwaway line for your fantasy.”
“It’s not an entirely throwaway line.” Twilight propped herself up, placing a hoof on Rainbow’s belly. Silently she traced circles in her lover’s fur as a small smile came across her lips. “I mean, I would like to have—”
Immediately Rainbow shoved a hoof in Twilight’s face. “Nope!” Tossing Twilight’s hoof off her, she rolled over onto her opposite side with an audible humph . “Just gonna nip that in the bud right now. Light’s enough of a hoofful for us between you being a princess and me being a Wonderbolt. Another kid’s just going to complicate things.”
“That’s not true!” Twilight put her hoof on Rainbow’s shoulder, pulling her back, but the pegasus proved more sturdy than a mountain. So Twilight instead slid her hoof over Rainbow’s belly once more and pressed her chest to her back. “Light’s been a blessing in our lives, and I know another foal would be too.”
“This is way too heavy right before bed, and I’m already in a bad mood after that stunt you pulled.” With the maturity of a filly, Rainbow wrapped her hooves around her head, smashing her ears flat.
A purple aura flooded her vision, and soon pried the pegasus’ hooves up enough for her ears to unfurl. “Rainbow, I know how much you’d be happy if we had a little pegasus foal.”
“I don’t want to talk about it tonight,” Rainbow said in a flat tone as her eye twitched.
“Don’t be like that, Dashie,” Twilight replied with a sweet voice. A tone so sugary she could have opened her own confectionery, and one that Rainbow was all too weary of. She shook free of Twilight’s magic and slammed her head down into the mattress once more.
Without even a single word, Rainbow shrugged Twilight’s leg off and slid closer to the edge of the bed. “How about you drop it instead and we just go to sleep before one of us gets more upset,” she finally said after a few moments of silence.
“Rainbow Dash, there’s no reason to act like that!”
In a blur, Rainbow whipped around to look Twilight in the eyes. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize I was supposed to be thrilled after you scared me to death and then tell me you were only half-joking. I swear, if I take a pregnancy test and it’s positive, you’re going to get—” she let out a low growl “ —something. I don’t know what yet, but it’ll be bad.” As fast as she looked at Twilight, she turned her back on her.
“You’re overreacting.”
“I’m overreacting? How do I know you’re not planning to spring a surprise bun in my oven on me?” Rainbow glared back over her shoulder.
Twilight glared back, an almost physical pain shooting through her heart. “Do you really think I’d get one of us pregnant without the other’s consent?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Rainbow muttered just loud enough for Twilight to hear. She then slammed her shoulder down into the mattress one final time, turning her back on Twilight again.
Twilight only stared slack-jawed at Rainbow’s back, until what eventually felt like hours passed. All the while her mind was abuzz with white noise. Something should have been said—to break the silence—but the words wouldn’t form in her mind let alone leave her lips. At some point, the soft snores from Rainbow Dash told her it was too late, and eventually, her eyes too fell closed, reluctantly surrendering to sleep.
A small bubble formed in the small, yellowish goop puddle, slowly rising to the surface. Hissing filled the air until the ooze turned a solid white. Crowning the center stood a small golden mound with little black dots of pepper sprinkled. Wafts of tempting aroma rose slowly upwards, signaling the perfectly fried egg was ready. But rather than pull it from the stove, it sat.
“Twilight?” Spike called, but she only stared down into the pan.
“Twilight?” he called again as he pushed his stool over to the stove. Once he climbed atop he saw the edges of the egg had a slight brown tinge. “I think it’s done, Twilight.”
She didn’t respond.
Spike rolled his eyes and waved his hand in front of the dazed princess’ face.
Suddenly Twilight jumped back with a gasp, nearly toppling over onto her haunches. In a flurry, she whipped her eyes around the kitchen finding only a concerned dragon tapping his foot on a stool. “Spike, don’t startle me like that,” she said with a slight sting as she furrowed her brow.
He shrugged and hopped down from the stool. “Then don’t burn the eggs. You know Light won’t touch them if they’re burnt.”
Twilight turned her nose up at Spike. Her horn lit, the soft magenta of her magic grabbing the pan by the handle and whisking it off the active burner. Another aura appeared around the burner dial, turning it until it said off and the flame snuffed soon after. “I’m her mother, Spike. I’m well aware of what she likes and won’t touch.” As she snatched a plate and placed the egg on it, she stuck her tongue out at the dragon.
Spike rolled his eyes again. “Yeah, Rainbow says the same thing when she burns the eggs.”
Words started to form on Twilight’s tongue but soon petered out as what Spike said took hold. A frown formed on her face, which she told herself was simply at the mention of Rainbow’s name rather than the fact she made the same mistake as the offending pony. Their fight still hung fresh in her mind, and just mentioning Rainbow was enough to boil her blood.
Narrowing her gaze again, Twilight pointed to the doorway. “Just go sit down,” she ordered, and Spike marched out shortly at her behest. Once the dragon was out of her mane, she let out a sigh. Her gaze shifted where he left to a cluster of four plates—three held eggs and toast while the remainder was a simple bowl of oatmeal.
“Keep it together through breakfast, Twilight,” she muttered as she stepped over to the refrigerator. Inside the bottle of milk soon levitated out by her magic to accompany the family’s breakfast. After pouring four glasses, she levitated the meals up and out of the kitchen trotting out behind. She set each meal in front of its owner and took a seat next to Rainbow.
Their eyes met for a moment, then Rainbow rolled hers and buried her gaze down into her plate.
Twilight chewed her lower lip for a second, turning her sights to Spike and Light. “Well, dig in,” she said prying the corners of her mouth up.
“The eggs are burnt,” the small filly said poking the edge of the whites with the tip of her fork.
“They’re not burnt,” Twilight replied furrowing her brow. “Now eat.” With maternal authority, she pointed her spoon down at the eggs on her daughter’s plate like a judging banging a gavel.
The filly’s gaze fell to where her mother pointed. The barely brown edges of her otherwise pristine egg caused her nose to scrunch. “They’re burnt,” she repeated, turning her eyes to Rainbow.
Payers of a different answer were soon squashed. “They’re fine, squirt.” Rainbow glanced over to Spike. “Now eat up or else Spike’s going to eat them first.” A small smirk crept across Rainbow’s face.
He raised an eyebrow at the mention of his name.
Just then the filly’s eyes lit up and she snapped her head to Spike. “I bet I can eat faster than you!” she spat out the words faster than the crack of a whip. Ears perked with a big smile plastered on her face, she bounced idly in her seat.
“No.” Twilight narrowed her eyes at Light. “Meals aren’t a race, Light,” she said, taking a bite of her oatmeal.
“It’s just a little fun, Twi.”
“And that little fun might cause her to choke, Rainbow.” Her narrowed gaze turned to a stern glare when she shot her sights over at Rainbow. “Besides, it’s rude and I don’t want her doing it.”
Rainbow rolled her eyes but nodded. When she met Light’s wide, pleading gaze, she threw her forelegs up. “No racing at the table.”
A slight quiver ran through Light’s lower lip. “Spike started it.”
Twilight cleared her throat. “No, your father started it,” she corrected, still keeping her glare locked on Rainbow.
A challenge issued, and Rainbow took it with gusto as she locked eyes with Twilight. The two glared fiercely at one another, while she took another bite of her eggs.
Spike cleared his throat. “I just remembered I had something to do in the library. I’ll just go finish up breakfast in there.” He gathered his plate and glass of milk, then hopped down off his chair.
Once Spike left the room, Light stared at the empty doorway with envious eyes. Sheepishly she turned back to face her parents, still locked in a staring contest. “I’m done,” Light said poking the remains of her eggs with her fork.
Without even pulling her eyes from Twilight, Rainbow pointed firmly at Light’s plate. “Two more bites,”
With another jab at the rubbery egg white, the filly groaned. Two swift scoops of her fork made their way up and shoveled into her mouth. After that, she set the fork down. “Now?”
“Go ahead,” Twilight nodded, the first between the two to break eye contact. “You did a good job.” She flashed the filly a proud smile.
Ears perked once more and Light puffed out her chest. “Alright, I’m going to go see what Spike’s up to!” she said as she hopped down from her seat and raced out of the room.
Once the door fell closed behind her, Twilight turned her gaze back to Rainbow. She took another bite of her oatmeal and with a soft nod, motioned for her to speak.
Rainbow licked her lips, an annoyed smile spreading across her face as she did. “I’d ask what’s gotten up your butt, but I already know. So you’re not going to let last night go?” she finally asked slamming her fork down onto the table.
Chew, chew, chew, and finally swallow, Twilight slowly levitated a napkin to her lips. She dabbed the corners of her mouth meticulously as she ran her eyes over Rainbow’s face. The irritation in Rainbow’s expression burned brighter with each and every passing moment until Twilight finally set the napkin down. “You said some hurtful things last night.”
“I said some hurtful things?” Rainbow scoffed. “I can’t even trust you in the bedroom right now, and I’m a fault here?”
“The fact that you don’t trust me is precisely what’s hurtful!”
“Yeah, making an offhoof comment about knocking me up right after you blew your load inside me, I’d say that’s reason enough to be a little mistrusting, Twilight.”
“And I told you I would never let either of us get pregnant without a discussion beforehoof. What’s wrong with an honest discussion anyway, Rainbow Dash?” Twilight asked, a small frown forming on her lips once more.
“Uh?” She placed her hoof to her chin and glanced skyward for a moment, then snapped her gaze right back to Twilight. “Maybe the part where I already said no?” She rolled her eyes and snatched her glass of milk for a quick gulp.
“That’s not a discussion!” Twilight shoved her chair back, standing up and gathering her bowl of oatmeal in her magic. “I want to weigh the pros and cons, get your opinions and feelings—not just a no!” Twilight’s eyes fell to the floor as she placed a hoof on her forehead. “You know, the stuff we didn’t get a chance to discuss when we had Morning Light?” she added in a soft, quivering voice.
Another scoff as Rainbow rolled her eyes again. She leaned back in her seat. “For cryin’ out loud. Everything doesn’t have to be so complicated.” she waved her hoof dismissively. “Maybe saying ‘I don’t want another foal’ just means I don’t want to have another foal?”
Twilight let out a single harsh laugh. “And again you’re lying to me!”
“I’m not lying!”
“You’re telling me you don’t want to have another foal? A pegasus filly you can teach to fly and maybe follow in your hoofsteps someday?” She raised an eyebrow watching the pegasus closely. “Train her personally to become a Wonderbolt?” Slowly she leaned in closer, presenting her ear for Rainbow’s answer.
Rainbow bit her lower lip, eyes searching around the room for a moment. It was plain as day she was looking for some answer amidst the aether. Finally, she sucked in a quick breath and loosed a harsh laugh. Chortles punctuated when she shoved hard into the table pushing her chair out. “Look, would it be nice if we had another kid who happened to be a pegasus?” She shrugged. “Sure, I’d like that, but Light’s perfect in my book.” She then pointed a hoof right at Twilight. “But I don’t feel like I need to have another kid to mold into a mini-me like you.”
Twilight blinked a few times. “Wait, what?” Her voice jumped in pitch and volume as she slammed a hoof into the floor.
“Come on, Twi.” Rainbow brushed it off with a small wave of her hoof. “You’re drilling a three-year-old on magic, keeping her to a strict schedule, and hovering around her non-stop when you’re not too busy with princess stuff. If that’s not you trying to make her be like you, then I don’t know what is.”
Twilight’s jaw dropped. “I-I…”
“Look, I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, but I don’t need another foal to feel like I’m passing on something. Besides, Light’s lovin’ being the lone kid in the house.” Rainbow stood up and walked around the table. As she passed, she placed a hoof on the stunned mare’s shoulder giving her an all-too-pleased smile. “Anyway I’ve got to go to work, okay? I’ll see you tonight.” Before Twilight could fully grasp the situation, Rainbow gave her a quick peck on the cheek and rushed for the door.
As the sounds of hooves leaving the room pulled Twilight back to the dining room, she held out a hoof. “W-wait, Rainbow!” she called, shaking her head one more time. “That’s so full of crap and you know it! And besides I want another one!”
Rainbow stopped at the doorway, staring back at Twilight with jaw agape. Moments passed until she finally managed to take a strained breath. Shortly after she spit it out as a hard groan. “Damn it, Twilight!”
“Fine! Just go to work.” She waved her hoof dismissively and sighed. “We’ll talk about it later, alright? You’re not getting off the hook that easily.”
“I’ll show her,” Twilight muttered under her breath as she stormed down the hallway of the castle. “Saying I’m making our daughter just like me?” She slammed her hoof into her chest with a loud thud. A tremor racked her voice and a shot of dull pain followed, but she ignored that. “So what if I want Morning Light to have a structured, challenging education from an early age? That’s not me forcing her to be like me!”
“And after she told me —when she was teaching me to fly—how much she wished she could also teach Light to fly!” When she turned the corner letting out a voice-cracking growl. A few steps later she came to a stop before a towering blue crystal door with a purple star-pattern etched trim. “I’ll show her,” she repeated as she placed a hoof softly against the door. “I’ll show her just how not-strict I can be!”
The towering crystalline door swung open in a flash, slamming into the wall with a thunderous crash. Spike instinctively snatched the bookshelf with a claw, his body falling back, but somehow managing to keep his feet on the rung of the ladder. Annoyed, he glanced over his shoulder to find Twilight standing in the doorway with a wide stance. The mare’s ears lay flat, jaw stiff, and eyes narrowed fiercely as she scanned the room—almost like a manticore on the prowl.
Twilight’s eyes fell upon Starlight Glimmer standing at a center table just below the ladder with Spike. In front of her, with a book on the table, was Light. Starlight stared back at Twilight with her head cocked to the side and eyebrow raised.
“Mom?” Light asked first.
“Uh, everything alright, Twilight?” Starlight asked.
The alicorn’s eyes dropped from Starlight to the filly in front of her. “Morning Light,” she said then sucked in a lungful of air. As she exhaled, the rigid stance she took loosened and a smile forced its way on her lips. “How would you like to get out with mommy today? You know, instead of sitting in this dusty old library?” she asked with a syrupy tone.
Starlight and Spike exchanged glances. “She’s been replaced by a changeling,” they said in unison, looking back at Twilight with a cautious glance.
The accusation returned a stern glare to Twilight’s face primed right at Starlight and then Spike. “I have not been replaced by a changeling.”
“I don’t know.” Spike flipped around where he stood and took a seat on the ladder rung. Scratching his chin, he looked Twilight over from top to bottom. “Skipping out on a lesson isn’t exactly something Twilight would do.”
Twilight rolled her eyes. “What’s so wrong with wanting to spend time with my daughter outside an academic setting?”
Swiftly covering her mouth, Starlight chuckled softly. “Because everything with you is an academic setting?” When she noticed Twilight’s glare back on her, she shrunk back.
The alicorn’s smile fell flat. “Well, today’s different. We’re going to go to the park and have some fun. Rainbow’s not the only one with whom she can have fun, you know.”
“She’s just better at it,” Spike shrugged as she swung around once more to slide down the ladder.
“Look,” Twilight said rolling her eyes. “Mommy-daughter day. It’s happening,” she added flatly. “Starlight?” A hoof fell in Starlight’s direction followed by a flick of Twilight’s gaze to the door. With a jerk of said hoof, she added, “Go do friendship things. I think Fluttershy might need help with her animals.”
Heading out the door, Starlight gave a weak nod. As she passed, she gave Light a small pat on the head accompanied by a smile at the filly. “And if she doesn’t?”
“Then take the day off.” Twilight eyes turned to the smart-mouthed dragon snickering at Starlight’s expense. “Spike?” she asked grabbing his attention once Starlight was out of the room. “Why don’t you go over to Rarity’s. I’m sure she needs your help with something.”
“Like what?” he asked
Twilight let out a low groan. “It’s Rarity. I’m sure she has some dress line she’s working on. And you can go be an extra set of claws, which she’ll both appreciate and probably reward you for.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her as he rounded the table. “Geez, what’s up with you this morning.”
“Marital problems,” she muttered as her horn sparked to life. A magical aura appeared behind Spike’s back and shoved the dragon towards the door. “And now I’ve got to prove a point to Rainbow, which requires Light and I spending some quality time together outside of a book . Kapeesh?”
Fruitlessly, Spike swatted his arms at the cloud of magic. “Fine, just stop pushing me! I’ll go!” When the cloud vanished, he fell on his keester. He shot an annoyed glare up at Twilight then brushed himself off and climbing to his feet. “You could’ve just asked,” he muttered as he left the room.
Twilight turned her attention to the quivering mess of dark rainbow mop poking up from behind the book. With a sigh, she started around the massive circular crystal table. "Was Starlight helping you read?" she asked in a sweet tone once more.
The rainbow mop shook up and down, still hiding behind her book.
"You’ll have to thank her." As Twilight was almost halfway around the table, Light dashed in the opposite direction. The book and rainbow mane bobbed as she scurried, holding it up as a makeshift barrier wobbling in a flickering magenta aura. Twilight cracked a smile, and with a blinding flash of purple light, she was gone.
Light lowered the book, eyes darting around the library for her mother. When she saw neither hide nor hair, her ears dared to lift for just a moment. "Mom?" she asked.
Suddenly someone tapped her shoulder softly, and the filly jumped into the air with a shriek.
"Gotcha," Twilight said with a pleased smirk. Snatching the filly mid-leap, she hoisted her higher with her magic. Like a tornado, she spun Light around. Delighted shrieks echoed through the library, but as suddenly as she whirled her around, Twilight stopped Light right at the tip of her nose.
Light tried to catch up as the room continued to spin around her, a dopey grin on her face the whole while. Finally, she viciously shook her head and her smirk vanished, flung off in the tousle it seemed. "Am I in trouble?" she asked in a soft voice.
Twilight tilted her head, a frown forming on her lips. "Why would you be in trouble?"
"You seem mad," Light folded her ears back once more, shrinking as small as she could in her mother’s magical grip, like a wilting flower in the intense heat of the sun.
Twilight laughed again and pressed the tip of her nose to Light’s. The filly loosened in her magical embrace, pushing Twilight’s muzzle away with a hoof. “You’ve been doing such a good job, I thought you earned a break today.”
The filly tilted her head. “But I thought you wanted me to practice levitation.”
“Well," Twilight said as she looked up and off to the side. "If you don’t want to go to the park, I guess we can practice levitation.”
Light squeaked, shaking her head back and forth like her life depended on it. “I want to go!”
Flashing a smile, Twilight flipped the Filly over her head, plopping her safely between her wings. “That’s what I thought.” She started for the door. “First the park, and then we can have a treat.”
“Then can we read a story?” Light shoved off her mom’s back just enough to get her hind end in the air.
“And then a story,” Twilight said with a chuckle. As they left the room, she took a deep breath. “Then we’ll see what Rainbow has to say,” she added soft enough so Light wouldn’t hear.
Of Shooting Stars
Chapter 2: Distance
“Seriously, she wants another!” Rainbow groaned as she lay limp across a particularly minuscule puffball of a cloud. Chin and forelegs buried amidst the fluff, she sprawled while her hind legs and tail dangled lazily off the back. The tips of her hooves just barely grazed the dirt below. “Can you believe it, AJ?” She opened her hoof, as though demanding Applejack’s reply be placed squarely on her hoof like a payment owed.
“Don’t you have your own job to get to?” the farmer asked, furrowing her brow.
“I skipped training.” Rainbow glanced to the side.
“Must be nice to play hooky when you feel like it,” Applejack muttered under her breath. She pulled her hat down toward her muzzle for a second, pinching her eyes tightly closed. Taking a calculated moment, she sucked in a deep breath, then held it for a short while. “Dash, I’m a little busy here,” she said as she tugged her hat back atop her head. Jerking forward, she punctuated the statement by brushing her friend’s hoof out of her way.
Both the cloud and Rainbow Dash drifted off to the side as Applejack’s shoulder grazed the pegasus. Rainbow’s eyes followed as the farmer and a plow in tow passed. Narrowing her sights, Rainbow swatted the air and slammed her hoof down into the cloud. "But then she said, ‘I want one,’ to me! Can you believe that!"
Applejack glanced skyward, gnawing on her lower lip. "I ain’t gettin’ outta this, am I?" she asked the empty blue void. As if on cue, the sun eclipsed from view when Rainbow’s head drifted in front of her face once more.
"Look!” Applejack groaned. “I got a whole heap of work on my plate today.” A sinking sense of despair settled in her gut when she noticed how little Rainbow’s intensely indifferent expression changed. But rather than let that take hold, Applejack pointed down at the barren land under her hooves.
“Listen here. I gotta plant some corn ‘cause Big Mac thinks we should diversify our crops this year so we don’t get hit so hard in the winter.” Hoof thrust to the side, Applejack drew Rainbow’s disinterested gaze to a fenced coop. “Then I gotta make sure the chickens get fed! Plus I also gotta make a scarecrow, but not too scary on account of Fluttershy. She said last year I traumatized the crows and she had to counsel them—” she rubbed the back of her head “—like with therapy or somethin’. And then Rarity chimed in to tell me I can’t just put any ol’ rags on the thing, else I’ll be the laughin’ stock of the whole town.” After a moment she shrugged off a confused look. “So now I have to make a not-too-scary fashionable scarecrow. So if ya would be so kind to—" she cut herself off as Rainbow’s cloud drifted closer. The mare’s rose-colored eyes pierced like daggers through the shadow cast over Applejack.
The farmer’s ears fell flat. "—At least make it quick," she said with a sigh of defeat.
"So, as I was saying! " Rainbow and her cloud slid silently to the side. She gave a small nod, permitting her captive audience to continue her work. "Twi wants to have another kid! I’m not about that, AJ!"
"Gosh dangit, Dash. Ya know I don’t much care to hear about y'all's relationship!"
"Oh, mare up, AJ!"
A lone hoof inserted itself between the two mare’s face. "Look, I’ve come to accept that your relationship and what y’all do together ain’t none of my business.” Applejack began, narrowing her eyes. “Y’all are my friends and I shouldn’t be judgemental, but that doesn't mean I’ve gotta be subjected to the intimacies of y’all’s private life.” Her hair flipped as Applejack turned up her nose. “I should at least have the right to not think about that."
Rainbow slapped Applejack’s hoof down, brandishing her gaze down at the farm pony once more. "We have a kid together, AJ! You know we fuck!"
"Nope!" Applejack clenched her teeth for just a moment. When she loosened her jaw, she sucked in a deep breath. "I don’t think about the particulars of what you and Twilight do together in the bedroom, so if you want somepony to vent to, keep it PG, Dash."
Rainbow rolled her eyes. "That’s kinda hard when I’m trying to vent about adding to the size of our family."
"I don’t want to picture you two bumpin’ uglies, alright? Besides grossin’ me out, I don’t want to think about my friends like that.” Fast as an arrow, Applejack jabbed Rainbow in the chest. “Y’all are like sisters to me, so it’s like picturin’ family like that.” She narrowed her eyes as she pulled her hoof back. “I’m serious, now. If you can’t do that, then go find somepony else to talk to. I prefer to live in blissful ignorance on this issue."
"Fine!" Rainbow groaned, plopping her muzzle down on the cloud. Her gaze trailed to the side before snapping back to Applejack. "Just imagine we’re adopting. Is that okay?"
The farmer stared back with unamused—borderline annoyed—look in her eyes. "I don’t much like bein’ patronized."
"What else would you want?" Rainbow rolled her eyes again. "So, Twi wants a new kid, and I don’t."
"And why’s that?"
"Uh, I don’t know, remember the last time we—" Rainbow groaned once more "—’adopted’ a foal?"
"Callin’ it somethin’ else ain’t changin’ the situation." Applejack stared at the pegasus with a flat expression. "But I see where you’re goin’. Havin’ li’l Light was hard on y’all, so who’s to say another won’t be rough again? What with y’all bein’ famous now." She tapped her chin. “Sure y’all won’t get the same kinda treatment, but I’m sure a few might make a fuss—publicly, even.”
"Exactly!” Rainbow propped herself up on her forehooves, chest puffed out. “I don’t think we need another kid anyway. I was an only kid and I loved it."
Applejack nodded as she rolled her eyes. "I think you’re the odd mare out on that one. I couldn’t imagine life without Big Mac and Apple Bloom by my side.” She looked at an orchard tree, the leaves waving slowly in a gentle breeze. Little green bulbs—the start of a new crop—caught her eye. “It’d be a lonely life for sure."
"You’re not helping—" An orange, dusty hoof pressed to Rainbow’s lips.
‘No, I ain’t agreein ’ with you.” Applejack snapped her gaze back at Rainbow. “You want my advice or you want an echo?"
Rainbow’s gaze fell as she dropped down onto her chest again and buried the tip of her muzzle inside the cloud. A small, nagging voice gnawed at the back of her brain—one that sounded suspiciously like Twilight. It told her she should be ashamed of herself for wanting the clearly wrong option, just like its real-world counterpart would have done. She was silent for a moment until she took a deep breath. To silence that voice, she uttered the answer like a filly being scolded by her mother. "An echo…"
Applejack nodded. "Well, that there’s your answer. I think you’d best go find somepony else to listen then, sugarcube." She gave a firm pat on Rainbow’s shoulder before pressing forward with her plow in tow. “‘But if you want my honest opinion? Runnin’ ain’t gonna fix your mess. You might as well just tell Twilight flat out and nip this in the bud. Besides, knowin’ you this ain’t the only thing botherin’ you.”
“And did you see how much I made my rock skip!” forelegs flailing, Light yelled atop her mother’s head.
Twilight chuckled. “I sure did.”
"It went so far!" Her hoof arched, splashing down on an invisible puddle as she made the sound herself before skipping her hoof off to the side. "I bet it’s a new record!"
"I’m sure it is, Sweetie," Twilight said distantly. A smile rested on her lips despite Light not seeing her face. The excitement in the filly’s voice was enough to fill Twilight’s heart with pride—pride that Light enjoyed their outing, and pride she had proven Rainbow wrong. Indeed, a smile upon her lips fueled by a smug sense of satisfaction. "Did you have fun skipping rocks today?" she asked, securing the frosting on her ego cake.
"Yeah!” Light leaned down over her mother’s forehead and grinned. “Better than books."
Twilight laughed again. Though we still practiced levitation by skipping said rocks.
“We have to take dad next time so I can show her how good I am at skipping!” Ear to ear, Light boasted a grin that would have shone through the darkest night. She sat back up upon her perch to light their path.
An affirmative hum was all Twilight gave her. The filly’s mad ramblings drifted into white noise as Twilight pictured the look on Rainbow’s face later that night. Since Light enjoyed their lesson today there was no way Rainbow could use her as ammo against having another foal ever again.
The audacity of that pony to insinuate I was making Light into a copy of me.
"Ow!" Twilight blurted out as her head jerked to the side. Everything around her snapped back into place with a jolt of pain straight through her skull. The filly atop her head leaned usingher horn and thrust her hoof at a particular store adorned with what appeared to be cookie and frosting for a roof.
"Can we go see Aunt Pinkie?"
Twilight winced, pointing her muzzle front once more. "If you don’t tug on my horn again, sure," she muttered. "You know, you shouldn’t do that when you’re up there. You hurt me."
"Sorry," The filly slid down Twilight’s neck and then flopped onto the ground. After a moment to regain her bearings, she scrambled to her hooves with a carefree grin adorning her face.
"Careful," Twilight warned, wincing once more.
"I’m fine!" Light called back, racing toward Sugarcube Corner as though her little heart depended on it.
As the filly shrank into the storefront doorway, Twilight rubbed her neck. "I meant with me," she muttered again, giving pursuit.
Light burst through the doorway, soaring through the air, and landing by planting all four hooves hard with a ground-shaking thud. Her eyes whirled around the room until finally locking on the counter. A big smile accompanied growing eyes as she about shrieked.
"Morning Light!" Twilight called, marching in behind the filly.
Suddenly Light was hoisted off the ground and spun around. Where a treat-adorned counter display once filled her view, now stood an imposing glare shrouded in magenta haze. She rose steadily to meet the towering monolith until she came nose to nose with Twilight. The filly’s ears folded back, vanishing under her dirty rainbow-colored mop.
"You’re in big trouble missy," Twilight softly said with the quiet might only a mother could muster.
A small squeak was her only reply, but the terror in Light’s eyes spoke volumes.
She sighed, then sat Light down. Once she was on the ground, Twilight gave her a small pat on the head. "You can’t just go gallivanting on your own, alright? Also, you hurt me twice before you bolted off."
Light dropped her muzzle, tucking her tail to her side. "I’m sorry."
Twilight tilted her head, taking in her daughter in for a moment. Finally, she gave a small nod to herself. Apologies meant little on their own, but seeing the filly fret such, Twilight knew her remorse genuine and sufficient for her crime. "Just be more mindful in the future, sweetie," she said, shifting to a sweet tone as she brushed Light’s mane.
Motion caught Twilight ‘s attention just out of the corner of her eye.
From behind the counter, Pinkie stood, leaning on her foreleg. Her curlicue-tail wagged back and forth visibly over the countertop. A cat-like grin spread across her face, and a glint caught her eye as her sights bounced between Twilight and Light. Finally, they came to a rest on the filly, and Pinkie’s tongue poked free under her top teeth. "Somepony’s in trouble," she sang followed by a giggle.
"Am not!" Cheeks puffed out, Light narrowed her gaze at the offending pony.
Twilight rolled her eyes as she watched Light’s reaction. In that moment, she could picture Rainbow doing the same when she was a filly, and it drew a slight chuckle. "Hi, Pinkie." She turned her attention behind the counter.
"Hiya," Pinkie said, beaming ear to ear. "What can I do for you two?"
Light’s cheeks deflated like an old balloon as she searched around the bakery’s dining room. “Where’s Pound and Pumpkin?” she asked.
Pinkie tilted her head to the side, still smiling. “With their mom and dad in Baltimare visiting relatives for the week.”
The filly’s ears fell flat and a frown came shortly after.
That was all it took. Pinkie slid along the counter, letting her weight carry her until she slipped off and disappeared behind the counter without so much as a crash from hitting the floor. Twilight raised a hoof, but before she could even ask Pinkie shot into the air like a whale breaching. In her hoof rested a light blue cupcake wrapper with pink and lime-green frosting. Under the blanket of sugary delight poked out a rosy pastry perfectly puffed to perfection. Pinkie grinned widely once more, holding the treat out like her newborn messiah.
As Pinkie lifted the treat, Light’s eyes grew wider and hoof outstretched.
Inching closer, Pinkie extended her toward the filly. Closer and closer, inch by painstaking inch, until the cupcake was just within her grasp. But just as the tip of Light’s hoof was about to touch the delightful dessert, Pinkie thrust it in Twilight’s direction, presenting it to her. “Permission to deliver smile-inducing treat, your highness?” Pinkie let out a snort followed by a chorus of giggles.
The joy ripped from Light’s eyes in that single moment, as her growing smile fell flat. She turned her sights to her mom, silently pleading. Echoes of a promised treat resonated as she reached out for her mom’s foreleg.
Twilight rolled her eyes and chuckled. “I suppose it won’t ruin her dinner, so permission granted.”
In a pink blur, Pinkie whirled around the counter. Neither Twilight nor Light had a chance to react before the latter was scooped up and dropped off at the closest table with the cupcake placed squarely in front of her. Once the filly was seated with treat still wobbling after being plopped down, Pinkie trotted back to the counter and Twilight.
“What do you say, Light?” Twilight asked, raising an ear in her daughter’s direction.
“Thanks, Aunt Pinkie!” she said with her tongue hanging out.
Mid-step, Pinkie bounced at the sound of “aunt,” squealing softly. As she landed, she skipped once and fell forward. “So, how about you, Twilight?” she asked, catching herself and propping a hoof of the counter. “Did you two just come by to see li’l old me?”
“Morning Light insisted after our levitation practice—or as she preferred to call it, ‘play date’—in the park.”
A sly smirk spread across Pinkie’s face. “So she finally dragged you out of the castle and away from the books, huh?”
Twilight paused for a moment, eyes dropping, and sighed. “Rainbow did, actually.” She shifted her sights to Light attempting to shove an entire cupcake into her mouth and failing. In an instant, the filly’s once pristine cheek fur smeared with frosting. Like a timberwolf, she devoured the pastry until it matted deep into her coat. Twilight took a deep breath and closed her eyes. When she looked back at Pinkie, she furrowed her brow. “At least I proved her wrong.”
Pinkie blinked absently for a moment. “Who, Rainbow?”
The squishy sound of cupcake devouring made Twilight’s ear twitch. Finally, she nodded. “It’s what she said to me this morning after breakfast.”
“And that was?”
“I’ll level with you, Pinkie,” Twilight said with a flat look. “I only took Light today out of spite. Rainbow said I was making Light just like me.” When she glanced back at her daughter, Light flashed a bright, frosting-coated smile. Twilight smiled back and waved.
“Mind if I level back?” Pinkie brought her hoof to her chin. “I’d say Light takes after Rainbow more than you.”
When Twilight returned her gaze back to Pinkie she rolled her eyes. “Not physically. She meant with how I make her study.”
A soft hum came as Pinkie tapped her chin. For a moment her eyes gazed off into the distance until she finally gave a shrug. “Oh, that. Yeah.” Pinkie nodded solemnly. Once she noticed Twilight staring at her, she cleared her throat. “Don’t you think she’s got a point though?”
“What?” Hoof pressed to her chest, Twilight leaned back, repulsed. “I don’t force Light to study so she’ll follow my hoofsteps!” she hissed. “I do it so she’ll be prepared for the world.”
Pinkie tipped her hoof back and forth like a scale. “Eh.”
Twilight narrowed her eyes. “I don’t .”
“If you didn’t so much, why did you let it get to you?” Pinkie poked Twilight in the chest softly. “If you didn’t think she was kinda right, you’d have kinda ignored her.”
Twilight opened her mouth, but the words didn’t come out. Slowly her glare lessened until she just stared at Pinkie, mouth agape. Without realizing, she turned her attention over to Light again, finding the filly licking the cupcake wrapper. “She had fun though,” she finally managed to say, slightly skeptical of her own claim.
With a firm pat on Twilight’s shoulder, Pinkie nodded. “Oh, no doubt she did.” Pressing her cheek to Twilight’s and looking at Light happily licking the remnants of frosting and crumbs, Pinkie nodded again. “Those cheeks don’t lie—but are you going to do this again? And keep doing it? Even if that means she’s learning less?”
Mouth still hanging open, Twilight turned back to Pinkie as the mare left her personal space. After a moment, her slack-jaw morphed into a frowned. “D-did…” The thought started like a whisper but quickly took root. She narrowed her eyes down at the counter. “Did Rainbow get one over on me?”
A soft hiss filled the air as Twilight sucked air in through her teeth. “I am so going to let her have it when she gets home.”
“What’s the big deal?” Pinkie asked with a shrug. “You and Light had fun, right? Who cares if Rainbow Dash planned this.”
“That’s not the point! The point is—” Twilight was cut off when she noticed Pinkie staring at her, patiently expecting the answer. But something odd struck her. Something she didn’t expect. “The point is…”
“Is?” Pinkie leaned in slightly.
“That…” Twilight cleared her throat. Soon her cheeks flushed and she averted her eyes. “Rainbow is wrong.” She gave a firm nod.
Pinkie turned her gaze from Twilight, over to Light, then looped around the room before falling back where she started. “She kinda is.”
Twilight blinked. “Wait, she is?”
“Think about it, silly. You’d have to do this pretty much everyday—not just as a one-off thing—to change how you’re teaching Light. Then even if you did it every day, that’d be what Rainbow would want, right? Except Light takes after her dad more than you, so she’s right and wrong.” Pinkie glanced up at the ceiling. “I actually don’t know what’s going on now that I think about it. Did any of that make sense to you?”
Twilight furrowed her brow with ears lying flat. “A bit…”
“Good!” Pinkie smiled. “Because I was worried for a second there.”
Solemnly, Twilight stared at the floor. “I think you’re saying I shouldn’t be so strict?” As her tone rose, so too did her eyes, questioning Pinkie when their gazes met.
The mare rolled her head around, her puffy pink mane whipping in circles before springing back into place when she stopped. “It’s not really my place to say.”
“It is Rainbow’s though, and I think that’s what she was saying—even if it was out of spite this morning, or shifting blame.” Twilight’s ears laid flat against her head and she frowned.
“Then maybe you should cut Light some slack?” She shrugged again. After a moment she rolled her hoof in the air before leaning against the counter once again. “You did some practice at the park, right? Maybe you might not get the rep as the big tough mom if you turned some more of your lessons into ‘play dates’ like today. That sounds like a scrumptious compromise to me.”
Twilight chewed on her lower lip. “I suppose Starlight and myself teaching her in the library isn’t the best practical application for her studies. Skipping rocks was a good exercise, and thinking back on my own studies with Celestia, letting Morning Light do less rigorous studying might be a good change of pace.”
“She gets to have more fun, you get your teaching fix, and Rainbow Dash gets—” Pinkie’s ears fell flat, the words simply stopped flowing. “Wait, why did Rainbow Dash even bring that up?”
Twilight let out a low groan. “That’s the issue; we’re kinda having a fight.”
“Kinda ?” Pinkie raised an eyebrow.
“You can’t tell this to anypony, alright?” Twilight stressed, firm eyes locked onto Pinkie’s.
“Pinkie promise,” she said, running through the motions.
Twilight pinched her eyes for a second. “Between my job, Light, and Rainbow’s job with the Wonderbolts, it feels like we’ve not had much time for each other.”
“I see,” Pinkie said, nodding.
“I’m busy all day—” Twilight pressed a hoof to her forehead “—and I’ll probably be more busy with the upcoming Falling Leaves Festival. Rainbow leaves early in the morning, isn’t even home every night, and when she is, we’re usually too tired to really spend time together.” A long drawn out sigh created a brief pause as Twilight slid her hoof down her face. “We try intimacy, but it just feels like we’re running through the motions.”
Pinkie continued nodding slowly. “That’s no good,” she said after a second, then hopped over the counter, narrowly dodging a candy-filled jar with her back hoof.
“I know it isn’t. Something has to chance. I’m trying to talk things over with her—a few things, actually—but it’s just so hard. I don’t think she’ll listen to me.” Twilight turned to lean against the counter, planting her chin squarely on her crossed forelegs. “You know how she is.”
“Yeah, knowing Rainbow, she’s noticed it too, but covering up what’s really eating at her. Doesn’t sound like this is any one pony’s fault.” Pinkie dipped below the counter once more, her bushy tail swishing back and forth as she dug through the mysteries on the other side. “But I got just the thing here somewhere.”
“Pinkie, what are you—” Twilight jumped back when Pinkie popped up and slammed a small box on the counter right in front of her nose. Her eyes moved from the cardboard box up to the grinning mare.
“Found it,” Pinkie finally said as she shoved the box at Twilight.
“Apple cider tea?” Twilight asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Trust me, she’ll love it.”
Twilight rolled her eyes. “I’m not really in the mood to give her a gift.”
Giggled ended with a snort as Pinkie waved her hoof. “It’s not a gift, silly.” She lunged over the counter, snatching Twilight’s head and pulling her close. “Since you two are kinda fighting, she’s not going to tell you what’s eating her. This’ll be the olive branch,” she whispered right into Twilight’s ear.
Twilight blinked for a moment. So wrapped up in processing what Pinkie said she didn’t even notice Pinkie had let her head go. Suddenly her eyes dropped right down to the box again and a small smile came across her face. “I see. So I give this to her and she’ll listen.”
A hiss stole Twilight’s attention back to Pinkie, the mare shaking her head. “You’ve gotta get Rainbow to trust you again so she won’t go on the defensive. That , and you’re gonna have to do what you really don't want to. You need to listen to her too,” Pinkie said with a small frown.
“I do listen to her,” Twilight protested, brow furrowed.
“So if she still doesn’t agree with you?”
“Obviously she hasn’t—” Twilight cut herself off by covering her mouth with a hoof. In that instant, it hit Twilight. The whole argument wasn’t because Rainbow didn’t want another foal, or even how she’s raising Light. This all stemmed from her need to convince Rainbow to see things her way. A wave of nausea washed over her The thought echoing in her mind that Rainbow’s opinion didn’t matter. What mattered was that, in Twilight’s eyes, Rainbow was wrong and she was right. Slowly she pulled her hoof back, jaw agape. “I’m a monster…”
Pinkie waved her hoof dismissively. “No, don’t say that.” She placed a gentle hoof on Twilight’s shoulder, petting down the alicorn’s foreleg. “Lots of ponies get like that when they’re fighting.”
“B-but…”
Pinkie poked Twilight square on the nose. “But nothing. Just take a step back and have an honest, real talk.” She narrowed her eyes seriously. “And no questionin’, or she’ll think it’s pesterin’.” Pinkie snorted again.
Twilight looked down at the box again. “So, just have tea with her and talk things out?”
“Well, yeah, but don’t pressure her. I know neither of you likes fighting, so I’m sure you two can talk it out like big girls.” Pinkie reached out and messed Twilight’s mane. “Even if you don’t agree.” She looked to the side and gave a half shrug. “Then again, what do I know? I’ve never been with anypony.”
“No, you’re right,” Twilight said, staring past Pinkie. The words "big girls" echoed in her mind, dragging her heart down as it faded into nothingness. Suddenly she felt the urge to smack herself right in the face. She—they —were adults. They couldn’t deal with arguments like they had before Light was born or else it would impact their daughter. Silent treatments, passive aggressive comments, eventual blowouts—that’s not fair to the others in their life. It hadn’t even dawned on her since she was so wrapped up in proving a point, and with how little she had seen of Rainbow lately.
Suddenly Twilight felt a tug on her tail. She looked back to see Light staring up at her, frosted mouth curled into a frown. Motherly instinct took over as subconsciously she spotted a towel to the side, snatched it in her magic, and bent down to wipe the mess of Light’s face.
"Are you and dad fighting, Mom?" the filly asked in a soft, almost quivering voice.
Twilight stopped mid swipe leaving a streak of sticky mess along Light’s chin. “Did you overhear Aunt Pinkie and I talking?”
Light nodded. “And you and dad were looking mad at each other at breakfast.”
She swallowed. “No, Light. We’re just—" Twilight glanced to the side "—having a spat."
"A spat?"
"We’re just not seeing eye to eye at the moment." Twilight levitated Light into the air as she stood up, bringing her nose to nose with her before rubbing the tip of her muzzle against Light’s. "But we’ll be getting along again in no time, so don’t worry."
Light tilted her head to the side for a moment before giving a small, tentative nod.
"Why don’t you throw away that wrapper so Aunt Pinkie has less of a mess to clean up." Twilight wiped the last of the frosting off Light’s face and sat her back down on the ground.
"Okay." She skipped off, leaving Twilight and Pinkie for the moment.
"Thanks, Pinkie. You’ve been a big help," Twilight said turning back to the counter.
“I try. And besides, Twilight, you’re a smart cookie. I know you got what it takes to dunk yourself into Rainbow’s milk and soak up whatever’s muckin’ about in there. Then you two can get over this little spat.”
Twilight laughed, brushing Pinkie’s hoof away. “You know, Pinkie, I don’t give you enough credit sometimes.”
She shrugged again. “It’s cool.”
Inching closer, Rainbow reached for the handle of the towering, opaque crystal door. Behind her sprawled the endless, empty, dark hallways of the castle she and Twilight called home. But as her hoof came to the handle, she paused. On the other side, she hoped to find more of darkness—picturing herself fumbling to the bed with an already asleep Twilight taunted her—but an orange flicker from underneath the door told her that was just a fantasy. She took a deep breath and turned the handle.
The orange glow filling the room burned her eyes for but a moment. Immediately the smokey smell of roasting applewood wafted, tugging her inside the room by her nostrils. Upon the sofa opposite her, she spotted Twilight lying, nose buried in a book as she silently sipped a cup of tea. Rainbow dropped her eyes down to the coffee table where a steaming kettle sat center. A delightfully sour scent mixed with the undeniable sweet of apples mellowed perfectly by the welcome tea fragrance graced her nose next.
Twilight looked up from her book. “You’re late.”
Eyes buried in the wall, Rainbow slunk along the room’s perimeter with slow, soft movements. Only a few steps in she dared to glance up. “Sorry, just stuff.” She stopped and rubbed the back of her head. “Are Spike and Light in bed?” she asked, getting a nod in response. A few more steps, returning her gaze down, she sighed. “Alright, well, I’m tired. I’m just going to go to bed,” she muttered.
“Dashie,” Twilight said abruptly.
Rainbow stopped midstep, looking up at Twilight with a pained expression. “Can we not?”
Twilight only patted the cushion next to her. “Come here,” she commanded with a sweet tone.
For a moment Rainbow glanced down the hallway that led to their bedroom. It was all too easy to just make a break for it. Twilight wouldn’t dare yell at her—not with Light asleep. But as she stared at freedom, her hooves moved on their own. Not forward, but dragging her body toward the sofa. Resigned, she sighed. Tonight she may have had peace, but if she ran from Twilight, there would be no end to it tomorrow.
She climbed onto the sofa and sat like a child forced to sit still at a piano recital. Suddenly a cup drifted into view, and again the sweet smell of sour apples and tea melding together right under her nose. A purple glow to her side stood out against the orange cast of the fireplace.
Rainbow took the gift from Twilight’s magic, staring down into the translucent brown liquid within. Only the crackle of the firewood and Twilight’s soft slurps broke the silence for what seemed like minutes. Rainbow pressed the cup to her lips and took a drink. As the warm drink filled her mouth her ears rose slightly for what felt like the first time since breakfast. An explosion of sour and sweet washed over her tongue curbed perfectly by the mellowing tea flavor. “Is this apple cider tea? It’s good.”
“You smell like beer,” Twilight finally remarked after she pulled the cup from her lips.
Once more, Rainbow’s ears fell flat. “I went to the bar before coming home. I had maybe a third of a beer when some drunk spilled his on me.” Rainbow continued to stare down into her tea, watching the ripples in her cup. “Kinda ruined my already sour mood, so I left after that.”
“You didn’t go to work today?”
Rainbow shook her head. “I could get away with it. We’re not preparing for the big show until next week.”
“Yeah, Celestia asked if I would give a commencement speech. I thought you might not have gone today anyway—”
“Seriously, can we not do this tonight?” Rainbow asked abruptly, though her eyes stayed firmly in her cup.
“Would you just let me talk?” Twilight asked back, with a frown. “I promise this isn’t what you think it’s about. I’m not trying to scold you.”
Rainbow took a deep breath. “I’m holding you to that.”
Pausing for a moment, Twilight closed her eyes for a bit longer than a blink. “Dashie, I love you.”
“It’s good to know that hasn’t changed,” she remarked, taking another sip.
Sarcasm was never a pleasant thing to hear, mostly when she was laying her heart bare, but she swallowed the nagging sensation that told her to correct Rainbow and cleared her throat. "No, it hasn’t. And after taking a step back, I’ve realized today that we don’t have enough time together.”
Rainbow’s reflection in the surface of her tea raised its eyebrow at her as her ear closest to Twilight flicked up.
“I miss you." Twilight pressed a hoof to her chest. “I miss us !”
Another pop of the fire broke the otherwise quiet room. Rainbow pinched her eyes closed and groaned. “You’re making it super hard to stay mad right now.”
"Good.” Twilight took a swift sip from her cup. “It’s been awhile since we’ve had a big argument, but we’re too old to fight like this anymore, Dashie. We’re not two young mares dating—we’re adults with careers and responsibility . Light alone would be reason enough.”
“There we go,” Rainbow muttered. “Back to being easy again.”
Twilight narrowed her eyes, leaning closer. “Do you know what she asked me earlier today? If you and I were fighting.” She paused, and Rainbow raised an eyebrow at her. “She’s old enough that she understands there’s an argument going on between us. She’s affected by it too."
"So, what? You want me to just drop it and you win? You get what you want and—" Just then Rainbow’s lips pressed together. In the tea’s reflection, she saw a glow around her mouth.
"I didn’t say that.” Twilight brought her own cup to her lips. After a second she took a small sip and let out a breath. “I’m the one who’s dropping it."
The magical grip around Rainbow’s lips vanished just as she snapped her head in Twilight’s direction. "Wait, what?"
The crackle of the fire filled the room for a second as Twilight now stared down into the cup before her. She let out another sigh after a moment and pulled her gaze up. "I don’t know why you’re against having another foal—" she turned to Rainbow, placing her hoof on her leg "—but I trust that you feel it’s a good reason.”
Rainbow stared absently. Then her eyes flicked down to Twilight’s hoof and then back to Twilight’s face. Without even thinking she stretched out her free hoof and pressed the back to Twilight’s forehead. "You feeling okay?"
Lips pursed, she brushed Rainbow's hoof away and stared at her flatly. "You know, that’s somewhat insulting you’d assume I must be sick for placing some trust in you."
"Sorry, but this is a complete one-eighty from this morning!" Rainbow pulled her hoof back, running it through her mane before letting it fall to the side.
“I know.” Twilight’s eyes fell once more before snapping back to Rainbow. “I feel bad for the way I treated you. Every argument we have I feel like it’s a problem to tackle and you just need to see it my way, but that’s…” Twilight rolled her lower lip across her teeth. “That’s insulting to you. It implies your views lack merit, and I am so sorry.” She took in an uneven breath.
“Back to making it hard again,” Rainbow muttered, rolling her neck. Suddenly she snapped her foreleg around Twilight’s shoulder and pulled the larger mare close. “It sucks. I hate when we fight because it feels like it’s more about who’s right than the real problem, right?”
Twilight nodded.
“I can forgive you, Twi.”
“It’s not over,” Twilight said softly.
The small smile that formed on Rainbow’s lips fell just as quick as it had dared to exist. “And the catch…”
“No catch,” Twilight replied, rubbing her cheek into Rainbow’s mane. “I’m going to listen to you, and I won’t argue about it anymore. But I still want you to promise me something.”
“What?” Rainbow almost regretted she asked.
“You’ll think about it?” Twilight leaned back to look Rainbow in the eyes.
“Sure—”
“No. I want you to really think about it. Earnestly.” Twilight moved her hoof to Rainbow’s leg. “And when you’re ready to talk, we can. Is that fair?”
Rainbow frowned, then pinched her eyes closed. She rolled her head around once more and let out a groan. “No pressure?” she finally asked.
“No pressure. When you’re ready to.”
Finally Rainbow let out a sigh. “Then fine. I’ll think about it.”
“Thanks, Dashie.” In a swift move, Twilight took her hoof from Rainbow’s leg and wrapped it around the mare’s shoulders, squeezing her tightly. “There’s just one last thing I want us to do.”
“You’re killing me, Twi,” Rainbow grumbled, caught mid-hug with Twilight.
“No, I think you’ll like this one.” Twilight loosened her grip and pulled back. “I want us to make more time for each other. So, tomorrow night, how about a date? Just the two of us. Before you have some big training thing.”
Rainbow blinked absently for a moment. “Yeah, you’re right. I do like that one.”
“That sounds like a yes.” Twilight clapped her hooves together softly.
Rainbow rolled her eyes. “It is.”
Of Shooting Stars
Chapter 3: Parenthood
The clock softly ticked from the bedroom nightstand, announcing the slow march of time. Rainbow watched from their balcony doorway as Twilight prepared the space. Twilight sparked her horn and laid a quilt out. Tucked in the corner, a record player and a bucket with a cool fog rising from within. As the sun sank ever lower in the night sky, Twilight stabbed a bottle into the bucket with a crunch.
Rainbow let out a low hum. Certainly, this had the hallmarks of a wonderful evening. Good wine, music, and great company, but one thing nagged at her. She cocked an eyebrow just as Twilight set two glasses on the quilt. "So—uh—you know that ice will be melted by the time we’re done getting Light and Spike to bed, right?" She asked with her sights running all around the balcony.
When Rainbow finally paused on Twilight once more, Twilight met her gaze. Upon her face rested a small knowing smirk—hinting she had some scheme cooked up. It was a look she knew all too well, but she pressed her concerns. "And the wine will be warm?"
"Oh, I think it will be perfectly chilled by the time we get to it." Twilight giggled behind her hoof.
Rainbow rolled her eyes and turned back into their bedroom. "Fine, don’t tell me," she said, shaking her head.
"It wouldn’t be a surprise if I did." Twilight trotted past, levitating the alarm clock from the nightstand over for just a moment and then returning it. "I can’t spoil all the fun."
Just then Twilight wrapped a wing around Rainbow’s side, placing her in a snug grip. "It’ll all make sense." She then tugged her towards the bedroom door.
"You could spoil some of it." Rainbow’s ears folded back in protest. "I’ve got drills tomorrow, you know?"
"And?" Twilight raised an eyebrow.
"So I can’t stay up too late getting drunk." Rainbow narrowed her eyes. "Spitfire was already steamed at me for missing prep yesterday."
Twilight brushed Rainbow’s concerns to the side with a wave of her hoof. "Trust me, you’ll get to bed at your usual time." She giggled again and darted for the door. "Now, hurry and get to the dining room before it’s too late. And keep away from the windows until after Light's in bed!"
As Twilight bounced like a filly in a candy store, Rainbow raised an eyebrow again. "You’re acting weird."
"I told you, It’ll all make sense later!" As Rainbow drew closer, Twilight grabbed her by her rump and pulled her out the door, slamming it behind them. "Now move it!" She said, pointing down the hall.
Rainbow rolled her eyes, but relented, following Twilight’s mark. It was clear she wasn’t sharing her plans, so that left Rainbow at Twilight’s mercy. Well—admittedly there were worse mercies to be at. Twilight was good at schedules, even if this one seemed impossible. Somehow they were to get through dinner, play with Light, calm her down for bed, see Spike off, and then fit a date in before they had to turn in themselves? Just thinking about it made Rainbow’s eyes feel heavy from exhaustion.
That would take a miracle.
As she turned the corner into the dining room, her heart dropped. Chaos, pure and simple as Spike leapt up, catching a pan mid-air while three others whirled about in a vortex. And sitting in the whirling center of the magenta and metal maelstrom was Morning Light, laughing hysterically. Spike landed, barely enough time to duck, when one pot slipped free of Light’s magical grasp only to crash into the wall. Reflexively Rainbow pinched her eyes and let out a low groan. "Did I say miracle? Make that impossible," Rainbow muttered.
“Alright!” she bellowed once she managed to look back upon the scene. “Light, pick up these pans so we can get ready for dinner!”
Once dinner was done, Light wiped clean after the ensuing mess, and the filly burnt off some of her boundless energy, Twilight carried her to bed and tucked her in. With her lovable bundle of mischief whisked away, Rainbow took that as her chance to finish cleaning up the still disastrous dinner table. Red sauce splatters and thin noodles caked the table and floor in a disturbing arc around Light’s seat. She sighed and reached for the cold, soggy dishrag still resting on the table. “How the heck does she make such a mess?” Rainbow remarked, pushing the noodles off onto Light’s plate before taking the whole mess into the kitchen.
After tossing the waste into the garbage, Rainbow dropped the plate into the sink. She let out a sigh. Every inch of her body was numb to the point she was about ready to collapse. Heavy eyes lazily moved around the plate stopping at the red splotches as she slid it under the running faucet. Once the plate was mostly clean, she turned off the water and left it there. Twilight’s faint voice yelled at her to actually wash it rather than just rinse it in her mind, but she was too tired to care.
She slinked back into the dining room and grabbed the rag once more. This time she turned her attention to the flood below Light’s seat. She bent down and scooped the stray bits of tomato sauce and noodles into a pile. “How did she get it so far under the table?” she asked nobody. As her foreleg stretched, she felt the ends of the table digging into her back.
“Rainbow?” a voice suddenly asked.
Rainbow jumped at the sound, smacking her head on the impossibly hard table’s underside. While her head shook and pounded, the table didn’t even an inch did it budge from the impact. Soon a weak whine slipped out as she slowly reached for the back of her head. The cold and damp rag slapped her hair and sent a chill down her spine. “Now I’m going to smell like spaghetti…”
She glared at the source of the voice. Twilight’s legs stood in the doorway, her upper body blocked by the table. Head throbbing and another two or three hours standing in the way of a good night’s sleep, Rainbow let loose a groan.
Twilight made her way across the room, the soft whispers of a chuckle following her. When she was next to Rainbow, she helped her up. “Are you alright?” she asked, a mixture of concern and mild amusement on her face.
“I’m fine,” Rainbow hissed with a scowl. She was well aware she shouldn’t be mad—it was her own fault, after all—but Twilight’s barely contained laughter didn’t help.
“Oh, don’t be like that.” Twilight’s voice was sweet. She cupped Rainbow’s cheek in a hoof and put a smile on her face. “We’ve still got a date yet.”
Rainbow closed her eyes and took a deep breath. This was the moment—the last chance she had to put her hoof down. “Listen, Twi—” When she opened her eyes again, they weren’t in the dining room, but their bedroom. The fading sparks of magic surrounded them, and Twilight boasted a bright smirk.
“This took a lot of planning, but I think you’ll enjoy it.”
“No, Twi! Listen!” Rainbow put her hoof on Twilight’s shoulder, forcing the taller mare to look her in the eye. “I’m tired. By the time we’re done with this date, I’m not going to get enough sleep to be up and make it to the training grounds in time tomorrow.” She furrowed her brow. “Let’s do this some other time, please?”
Twilight’s smirk didn’t fade like Rainbow expected it to. On the contrary, it grew wider. “Dashie, last night I said I wanted us to make more time for each other.”
“Yeah, and I’m sorry, but I don’t think it’s going to work tonight. It’s too late—”
Twilight put a hoof over Rainbow’s mouth. “No, we’re going to do just that.” Twilight glanced to the dresser. With a light of her horn, she opened the drawer and pulled a scroll from inside. “I really meant make time.”
Suddenly the scroll unraveled, and the text glowed with a sky-blue hue. The light pouring from the letters shone brighter until it spilled out, wrapping the two mares in a ball of light. In a flash, the ball faded, but they yet stood in their bedroom. As eyes wandered around, Rainbow noticed something was different. Rather than the dark of night, the room sat in an orange cast like dusk.
Rainbow raised an eyebrow. Just as she opened her mouth, she heard Twilight’s voice, but not from the mare in front of her. Muffled from the other side of the bedroom door, she heard, “Now move it!"
“Wait, are we—”
“Yup,” Twilight said with a giggle. She lept through the air, and with only a single flap of her wings, extended her jump. A few more feet and she softly landed in the balcony doorway. “I spent all day planning this time loop. I used the base Starlight made before she became my student and this is what I came up with!”
Rainbow stared at Twilight. “You’re crazy, Twi…” She gazed for a moment longer, taking in the alicorn’s playful demeanor before cracking a smile. “And I love you for it. Why didn’t you tell me this sooner? I was worried I was only going to get like four or five hours of sleep!”
“That’d have ruined the surprise,” Twilight said, beckoning Rainbow.
The door behind Rainbow called her attention for just a brief moment. On the other side, her past self and Twilight had their entire evening ahead of them. It was almost exhausting to imagine, but she didn’t have to—in fact, she already had. Turning back to Twilight, she folded her ears back with a pleased expression before striding over to join her wife. “I guess this is a pretty sweet surprise.”
She plopped down on the quilt Twilight had laid out hours previous—or perhaps moments ago—and held out her hoof. Twilight pressed her own onto Rainbows and sat down next to her. “Hope you don’t mind the spaghetti stains on my coat, Princess .”
“Only if you can ignore the ones in my hair,” Twilight retorted with a slight chuckle. After a moment, she glanced over to the record player. Her horn lit up, and she set the contraption to play.
“So, watch the sun go down with some music and wine?”
“Something like that.” Twilight glanced back and closed the door behind them. Just as she turned forward, the sun finally slipped below the horizon, turning the vivid orange into a satisfying violet blending into a breath-taking deep blue overhead.
Just then, a white streak shot across the sky. Rainbow’s eyes lit up, and Twilight gave a self-satisfied smirk. “I may have also asked Luna to do me a favor.” She rested her head against Rainbow’s, letting out a soft moan.
As another streak flashed by, Rainbow cozied herself deep into the crook of Twilight’s neck. “I’d love to see what kind of date you can plan on more notice.”
Another soft moan escaped from Twilight, this time in agreement. "The last time we sat out like this I think we were freaking out about being parents," she added, rubbing her cheek into smaller mare’s mane.
Rainbow snickered. "And ended with us fucking on my balcony."
"Oh, I was such a virgin back then!" Twilight joined her in laughing.
"You wish," Rainbow corrected. "Because you were totally pregnant."
“Yes, I know. I meant metaphorically a virgin—you know, naive?” Just thinking back on it almost felt like a tidal wave crashing down on her. The memories swelled until there were too many to count. Telling Rainbow, their spur-of-the-moment date on her balcony, their friends finding out, all of Ponyville discovering, telling their families—the nostalgia flood swept over her more and more by the moment. Suddenly she let out a groan. "Gosh, who’d have thought four years could make me feel so old ."
“I’m sure your second growth spurt didn’t help.” After a flick of her ear against Twilight’s nose, Rainbow smirked. “But, yeah, a kid’ll do that to you.”
“A kid, marriage, becoming royalty, multiple Equestria-ending catastrophes—not to mention watching your rise to the Wonderbolts.” Twilight stretched her back, as though just thinking about it made her tired. But before a yawn manifested, her ears perked up “Wait, are you saying I’m alone in feeling old?”
Puffing her chest up, Rainbow laughed. “Of course! I’m still in my prime.” Confidence oozed from a self-satisfied grin resting on Rainbow’s lips.
Twilight rolled her eyes. “Says the pony who was exhausted a moment ago.”
"Come on." Rainbow jabbed her side. "Time flew by in a flash and you know it. No way I could feel old when it all feels like it happened yesterday"
"Time really does fly by." Twilight loosed a chuckle then glanced at the bottle she had prepared. With her magic, she delicately poured two glasses and passed one off to Rainbow. Silently she took a sip, her eyes turning skyward for the dazzling light display. Lines of white still zipped across the sky like fireflies.
As she stared up, her body loosened and she leaned harder on the mare next to her. “I think it went too fast."
"Yeah?" Rainbow asked, already halfway through her glass.
"Yeah, since I think we were too busy and missed moments like this." Spreading her foreleg out across the balcony—Ponyville and the sky by extension. "Moments for just the two of us."
"What? Dates? We went on one last Summer Sun Celebration."
A moment of silence fell as Twilight took a deep breath. "Yeah, through a crowd, which turned into a photo op and autograph session. Not to mention cutting it short because Pinkie couldn’t watch Morning Light all afternoon."
Rainbow cleared her throat. "Looking back, that wasn’t a great date." Rainbow tipped back her glass, letting the sweet wine slip effortlessly down into her gullet. Once the glass was empty she let out a sigh and held it out for Twilight to refill. "Remember right after Light was born when we still lived in the library? We stayed up to read until after midnight."
With the wine bottle in her magic, Twilight poured Rainbow another glass. "That’s what I’m talking about. I miss that."
Rainbow let out a soft moan in agreement.
“We had so much more time back then,” Twilight said as she giggled into her wineglass. “That was before I had all these princess duties, and you had all these Wonderbolt events.”
A sudden laugh nearly caused Rainbow to choke on her wine mid-sip. “And you were complaining back then that they didn’t treat you like a real princess!”
Twilight fought a groan trying to escape her throat. “Oh, Celestia, I wish I realized they were easing me into this job.”
Just then Rainbow stretched her wing up and placed it over Twilight’s back. “And didn’t somepony tell you that?”
Twilight pressed her cheek into Rainbow’s mane. “And didn’t that somepony also tell me it was—and I quote—‘bullcrap’ they didn’t let me do more? It’s easy to say that after we moved into the castle. I mean, we just had a foal, a wedding, Tirek attacked—It only made sense Celestia and Luna were letting me adjust to the role gradually.”
“Too bad you didn’t notice it back then.” Rainbow tipped her glass back once more. “I’d say I told you so, but we know I’m not one to gloat.” Even Rainbow couldn’t hide her dumb smirk as she glanced up at Twilight from the corner of her eye.
“You? Gloat?" Meeting Rainbow’s gaze, Twilight smirked back. "I’d never marry such a braggart. My little Dashie’s the most humble pony I know,” she said with a laugh.
Hours passed before they knew it. Idly sipping—or in Rainbow’s case guzzling —glasses of wine while soaking in the brilliant display. The record, the only semblance of a clock, neared its end. Rainbow and Twilight turned their eyes upward for a barrage of streaks that lit up the night sky almost like the moon itself. As the music playing reached its crescendo, matching perfectly to the meteor shower finale. Once the music died, so, too, did the shooting stars.
Twilight stretched her wings and back before standing up. “Tonight was nice.”
Joining her on her hooves, Rainbow mirrored Twilight in stretching. “It doesn’t have to end just yet.” She raised an eyebrow with a motion of her head towards the bedroom door behind them.
With a playful twitch of her ears, Twilight pressed a hoof to her chin. She let out a low hum as her eyes danced from Rainbow to the door. “It’s awfully late. What about work tomorrow? Don’t you have to leave early?”
Twilight’s sugary sweet tone took the strength from Rainbow’s legs. With almost snake-like movements, Rainbow strutted right up to Twilight and pressed her neck to the alicorn’s chest. “Oh, yeah,” she admitted, adding a ditzy laugh. “I’m so tired, I think I might need somepony to tuck me in.” With a swish of her tail, she swatted Twilight’s side.
Suddenly Twilight’s cheeks flushed. She cleared her throat and quickly turned her gaze out over the balcony.
“Remember who’s the queen at the teasing game, Twi,” Rainbow said, sticking the tip of her tongue out.
“Y-yeah,” Twilight replied. “You always do it better…”
With a puff out chest, Rainbow polished her hoof on her coat. “Damn straight. Now, why don’t you get that sweet butt of yours in bed so we can end this night right?”
Twilight pinched her eyes shut. “Hold on. As much as I’d love to right now , we can’t.” After a moment she cleared her throat again. “Well, not yet.”
Rainbow raised an eyebrow.
“We have to wait for the past versions of us to travel back in time first. Otherwise, it’ll be bad news.”
Silence filled the air for a moment before Rainbow glanced back at the door. “So, how long will that take?”
“I…” Twilight sighed. “I forgot to put a clock out here.”
“So no clue then?”
Twilight nodded.
“Well, that’s just—” Suddenly Rainbow was cut off. A flash followed by a familiar twang sound came from inside the bedroom.
A muffled voice—one she recognized as Twilight said, “This took a lot of planning, but I think you’ll enjoy it.”
“Perfect timing,” the Twilight next to her whispered. “Maybe I can tuck you in after all.”
“No maybe’s about it.” Rainbow stuck her tongue out again. “We were quick enough that we didn’t spoil the mood.”
Before long, another flash came from inside the room, and with it, the voices vanished. The two mares looked at one another. Ears turned up, Twilight leaned in. As adorable as it was to see Twilight listening in on their own bedroom like a foal, Rainbow still rolled her eyes at the sight. She smacked Twilight on her flank with her wing, causing the alicorn to jump. Once she had her attention, Rainbow motioned towards the door. “We already know we’re gone in there. We lived that part.”
After a moment, Twilight frowned. “True, but it’s still kinda nerve-wracking.” She rubbed her side, before igniting her horn and opening the balcony door. Just a crack at first, drawing a groan from Rainbow. The pegasus strolled up and threw the door opened to reveal the other side.
“See?” Stepping inside their bedroom, Rainbow spread her foreleg wide.
Twilight furrowed her brow. “Nothing wrong with being cautious.”
With a knowing nod, Rainbow said, “Yeah, those brains of yours are why I married you.”
With that Twilight’s face flushed. “Really?”
“One of the reasons.” Rainbow looked back at her, flashing a smile. When Twilight shrunk slightly under her gaze, Rainbow motioned towards the bed with their head. “So get into bed.”
With that, Twilight stepped into the room as well. Eyes glued on her wife, she slowly walked across the room with calculated steps. Flashing a seductive smirk, and chest puffed out so she stood tall, Twilight gave a small, authoritative giggle. “Ordering a princess, are we?”
Rainbow dropped low, slinking across the floor in Twilight’s hoofsteps like a predator. “Technically I’m a princess too, you know.”
Finally at the edge of the mattress, Twilight placed her hoof daintily on the sheets. “Oh, right. Pardon me, your highness. I’ll do exactly what you say,” she said with a sweet helplessness in her voice.
When Twilight climbed onto the bed, Rainbow bolted in after her, pinning Twilight on her side. “Why did I marry such a tease?”
Twilight glanced back, and stuck out her tongue, “Don’t they say, ‘you are what you eat?’”
Rainbow bit her lower lip, hoping it may halt the spreading grin across her face, but to no avail. “I don’t think they meant eating pussy when they said that, smart ass.”
Feigning a gasp, Twilight covered her mouth. After a short pause, she raised an eyebrow. “Birds of a feather then?” Suddenly Twilight’s wing curled up and brushed Rainbow’s side.
“Oh, you are so going to get it.” Sparing Twilight not even a second to react, Rainbow jumped up, throwing open the mare’s hind legs, and with a swift flap of her wings, dropped down squarely between the gap. Just at the edge, almost touching the fur on her muzzle, Twilight’s swollen nethers greeted her. Her prize now laid bare, a single juice trail traced its way down Twilight’s thigh until melding into her fur. A perfect sight telling Rainbow just what she wanted to know—anticipation.
“I was hoping to get it, Dashie,” Twilight murmured in a sweet cadence. Her hips swayed back and forth as Twilight worked herself deeper into the mattress, and spreading her legs wide. “As much as I love our back and forth though, I think I’m ready for the main course.”
“Funny.” Rainbow laughed, the burst of hot air making Twilight squirm more. “I was thinking the same thing,” she said before pushing forward. Wrapping her lips around Twilight’s sex, she licked up the length of her slit. As her tongue glided between Twilight’s slit, juice collected, coating her tastebuds in her lover’s intoxicating flavor.
Like a dam bursting, memories flooded forth with the nostalgia-inducing taste washing over her mouth. Synapses fired. At once all her sexual encounters with Twilight pushed to the forefront of her mind. Rainbow closed her eyes and let her years of expertise pleasing the alicorn take hold. As though it were second nature, she expertly ran her tongue along Twilight’s most sensitive spots, only pulling her attention from the mare’s silky folds when her clit dared to poke free.
Twilight squeezed down on Rainbow’s tongue. With a flex of her muscles, her clit poked free from its confines. Rainbow struck, wrapping her lips around the delicate nub and softly suckling like a newborn foal. Twilight whimpered, all legs fidgeting uselessly against the onslaught, but Rainbow wasn’t done yet. Using the polished front of her forehoof, she traced up Twilight’s soaked slit—nearly bumping her own chin—then worked back down settling in a steady pace.
Whimpers turned to moans as Rainbow continued. Twilight’s poor clit throbbed in Rainbow’s grasp—torn between eagerly embracing the attention or returning home for a short breather. No option was offered, however, as Rainbow continued tongue-lashing the sensitive bulb like a tiny ice cream cone.
Any second now she’s going to start begging me to—
Twilight arched her back. “D-Dashie, please!” she cried out.
Victory. Rainbow loosened her grip, and Twilight’s clip darted back to safety. A thin trail—a mixture of saliva and love juice—yet connected Rainbow’s parted lips to Twilight’s pussy, and she pulled her soaked hoof back. Briefly, her eyes met her lover’s before diving down between Twilight’s lower lips once more. She pressed her muzzle firm, far enough inside to spread Twilight’s folds. Presenting her tongue once more, she caught a stray fluid strand before licking up then down the length of her lover’s cunt.
Probing deep, prodding between every crevice she came across, Rainbow pleasured Twilight. A symphony of moans spurred her on while an intoxicating bouquet filling her nostrils engulfed her senses. The sweet aroma dulled her mind, filling her thoughts with the moment at hoof. Only Twilight mattered—pleasuring her, basking in her, appreciating every moment.
Rainbow’s face burned. Deep in her chest, her heart fluttered. Maybe it was the alcohol or the reminiscing that evening, but something about this was different than it had been. Never had she wanted Twilight so bad—to touch her, please her, drown in her—at least not in a long time.
Slowly it hit her. Like a shock to her head that radiated forward, shifting subconscious thoughts to almost tangible, as though she could grasp it in her hooves. It was something they had been missing. In fact, it was what Twilight said before. Time together—just the two of them.
In other words, romance. Rainbow felt her cheeks burn hotter. That’s seriously cheesy, but damn if it’s not true.
“Dashie,” Twilight murmured.
Rainbow opened her eyelids, flicking her gaze up her lover’s barrel to meet Twilight’s.
“Do you want to use that spell?”
Between Twilight’s burning cheeks and glossy eyes, no uncertainty existed in those words. By “that” there was only one thing Twilight meant, and for that, she already had an answer. As she lifted her head, Rainbow drew her tongue up Twilight’s quivering slit, glossing over her exposed clit, until only a saliva strand connected them both. She gazed into Twilight’s eyes with a laxed look for a moment before finally closing her mouth. “No,” she said simply before dipping down between Twilight’s legs once more.
“Are you sure?”
A soft moan, reassuring her, was all Twilight got in response.
“I mean, you could give me a blowjob, and then I could—” she was cut off by a sharp moan leaping from her throat as she threw her head back. The ceiling was all she stared at for a moment, panting while the pleasure continued to surge through her body. “Are you still mad over what I said last time we used it?”
Rainbow shook her head. “I mean, that wasn’t cool, but I just want this right now. We don’t need a dick every time, you know?”
Twilight turned her gaze back down to a mess of rainbow-colored hair between her legs. “No, I guess we don’t.” She bit her lower lip. “This is fine—” Twilight stopped, shaking her head “—great, actually. We should do this more often.” Another jolt shot through Twilight, her hind leg twitched in response. “I get what you’re saying. We have been relying on it a lot lately.”
With more attention focused back on her most sensitive parts, Twilight’s body tensed from Rainbow’s ministrations. As she swirled her tongue around the mare’s clit once again, she knew Twilight was getting closer. Short, shallow breaths filled the space between them, punctuated with soft moans like a choir heralding the impending climax. Only a bit longer, and Rainbow would push her over the edge.
“D-Dashie, I’m…” Twilight's voice trailed into a sweet whimper. Her head arched back, body going stiff as her eyes drifted closed.
Just then a loud creak came from the bedroom door. “Mom? Dad?” a groggy voice called.
In a blur, Rainbow dove next to Twilight. Twilight pinched her legs closed and laughed nervously as she sat up. "L-Light? What are you doing out of bed, sweetie?"
Twilight spied Rainbow—face buried in the pillow—out of the corner of her eye. A muffled groan came as she desperately dried the juice from her fur.
When Twilight looked back to the doorway, Light had taken a few more steps into their bedroom. "I had a bad dream," she said with a sniffle.
"Bad dream?" Twilight questioned before clearing her throat.
Rainbow peeked from her pillow. As Twilight struggled to sit up, Rainbow knew a battle waged—motherly instinct to comfort their child versus biological need struggled for supremacy over her body. The alicorn’s face was still flushed, her legs still shaking, but most of all, the soaked mess between said legs and the smell accompanying would surely raise odd questions. That was no state to help their daughter. And despite the burning in her own body, Rainbow placed a hoof on Twilight’s foreleg.
Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Twilight nodded.
"Bad dream?" Rainbow echoed. She lept from the bed and walked over to the trembling filly. In the time she had entered the room and Rainbow had gotten up, Light dropped to her haunches and clutched a small blanket firmly to her chest. "What kind of bad dream?"
"There was a big, scary monster after me…" Light sniffled once more. Just looking at her, Rainbow fought an urge to chuckle. She had the most serious face a filly in her situation could muster with a stern glare holding back a fountain of tears.
"Well—" Rainbow began "—you’re in luck.” Wing extended, she scooped up Light and placed her on her back. "Your dad’s a pro at dealing with monsters." As soon as Light was on Rainbow’s back, she wrapped her forelegs around her neck and pressed her cheek into Rainbow’s fur. "So how about I go make sure there’s no monsters in your room and I tuck you back in? That sound like a plan?" she asked, strolling to the door with a puffed out chest.
A response came as a weak mumble and a nodding against her skin.
Just before she left the room, Rainbow turned her head to meet Twilight’s gaze. She mouthed the words “I’ll be back” and exited. After a short stroll down the dark hallway, they arrived at Light’s bedroom. Rainbow tapped a crystalline lamp next to the filly’s bed and let her climb down onto the sheets. A soft glow filled the room revealing toys scattered around Light’s bed, a rocking chair next to the light, and a small bookshelf. Besides those commonplace things, hide nor hair of a monster stood out.
Rainbow cocked an eyebrow at the still serious filly as she sauntered around the toddler’s bed. “No monsters,” she said slyly. But before Light could open her mouth to protest, Rainbow craned her neck down under the bed. “Not down here either.”
When she rose again, Light locked eyes on the closet across the room. Rainbow smirked as she crept across the bedroom like a lion stalking its prey. “Maybe—” she flung open the door “—one’s in here?”
Not a moment later, Rainbow gasped. “No way!” she said. “It’s—”
“I knew it!” Light yelled, covering her eyes with her blanket. “It’s a monster!”
“No, it’s your teddy bear!” Rainbow tossed a small navy blue stuffed animal across the room with her teeth.
It landed right in front of Light as she dropped her hooves for just a peek. When she saw the star-pattern covering its dark blue coat, she snatched it up and squeezed it tight to her chest. “My ursa!” she cried, gleefully.
“What was that doing in there?” Rainbow asked, cocking her eyebrow once again.
“Spike…”
“Don’t blame Spike,” Rainbow scolded as she moved back to the bed.
Light shook her head. “No, we were playing and he locked the big bad ursa up its cave.”
“Oh.” Rainbow feigned amazement as pushed Light down onto her back. “So you two went on an adventure without me, huh?” As the filly giggled, Rainbow pulled the cover over her and gave a small kiss to her forehead.
Once tucked in, Light narrowed her eyes seriously at Rainbow once more. “She was being bad and fighting.”
“So she had to be put in time out, right?” With Light tucked into bed, Rainbow sat back in the rocking chair behind her.
Light nodded. “Are you and mom still spatting?” the filly asked with an all-too-innocent cadence. An unwavering blank expression on her face matched her tone in a way only a child could manage.
For a moment Rainbow simply stared into Light’s naive face. When she realized the question wasn’t going away, she took a deep breath. “Did mom tell you we were ‘spatting’?”
Light nodded.
Jaw clenched, Rainbow fought the rising urge to yell at Twilight from their child’s bedroom. But as she stared down into Light’s still steadfast expression, she felt the urge dying. Vaguely Twilight’s words from the previous night echoed in her mind—that Light knew they fighting. Another moment passed as she let out the breath she took. “We’re not fighting anymore. So don’t worry about it.”
She smiled for her daughter and reached for a book off the shelf. “I’ll read you a story and then you can go to sleep, okay?”
Light nodded, a small smile on her face.
With a long sigh, Rainbow stepped back into the bedroom. Twilight lay where she had left her, though now with her nose buried in a book and the light on their nightstand now on. Not even uttering a single word, she returned to her side of the bed and collapsed.
Silence remained while Twilight finished her page. Once she was done, she glanced over as Rainbow lay with her face in a pillow. “Is Light tucked in?”
“Finally,” Rainbow said, turning her head to face Twilight. “Did you want me to finish where I left off or—”
Twilight cleared her throat. “I wasn’t sure how long you’d be—” she set the book to the side “—so I finished myself when you left and got ready for bed.” After a few moments without a response, she cracked a small, nervous grin. “You’re not mad, are you?”
“No,” Rainbow replied, her eyes closing for a bit longer than a blink. “I’d probably done the same.”
“Did you want me to—”
Rainbow laughed. “Reading a filly ‘Golden Locks and the Three Ursas’ three times in a row kinda kills your sex drive.” She nuzzled into her pillow, eyes weighing heavy.
Nodding along with what Rainbow said, Twilight couldn’t help but laugh as well. “Kids certainly know just the right time to strike, right? I wouldn’t trade it for the world though.”
Sitting in Light’s room, reading, drained any energy Rainbow had left, and without lust keeping her going, exhaustion was all that remained. She could easily drift off to sleep, but yet one thing had stuck out to her. Now that she had a chance to reflect on their evening and Light mentioned they had been fighting, the pieces almost fit too perfect. While talking of their halcyon days as a fresh couple, Twilight mentioned she missed that—missed them.
“Hey.” Rainbow flicked her eyes up to Twilight one last time. “Did you want to have another kid so we’d spend more time together?”
Silence again as Twilight stared back down into Rainbow’s eyes. She swallowed a lump in her throat, and then took a deep breath. Finally, she chuckled nervously. “That’s—uh…”
“Twi…”
Suddenly Twilight looked down to see Rainbow’s hoof on her own. She then pinched her eyes shut. “I don’t know…”
“You don’t know?”
“I don’t.” When Twilight opened her eyes, she turned her gaze towards the floor. “It’s complicated. I want another foal because I feel like our family isn’t complete yet.”
“Yeah, and to ‘complete’ it will take me away from my job, lay up a princess for a few months, and put a ton of stress on everyone in the house.” Rainbow rolled her eyes as she listed reasons.
“I know,” Twilight replied, narrowing her eyes. “I get it.”
Rainbow squeezed Twilight’s hoof, drawing the mare’s gaze back to her. “I’m not saying your reason’s bad. It just makes a bit more sense to me now.”
“So you’re considering it?”
“Earnestly thinking about it. Like you asked.” Rainbow rolled her eyes and tugged the blanket over her body.
“What about your reasons why you don’t want to?” Twilight asked, and swiftly answered with a growl. But before Rainbow could bark at her for breaking a promise, she raised a hoof between then. “I’m curious. If you’re earnestly thinking about my proposal, I should earnestly consider your issues with it.”
The low growl turned into a groan. “I feel like we’re going to see the same issues we had with Light. Ponies still say something to us when we’re in Canterlot or outside of Ponyville. I don’t think it’s safe.”
Twilight let out a single laugh. “Rainbow, that’s ridiculous. Unicorns know that—”
“Most pegasus and earth ponies don’t understand it.” Rainbow furrowed her brow. “I don’t want to paint a target on our backs by drawing attention, and you’ve got a few enemies out there who would be happy to take aim.”
Twilight sat silent for a moment.
Softly, Rainbow caressed Twilight’s foreleg. Her eyes fell to the mare’s side. What looked like annoyance before now rang clear—worry. “Keeping what we’ve got safe should come before having another kid, I think.”
“I don’t think that’s an issue…” Twilight finally muttered. When Rainbow’s hoof stopped, Twilight placed hers atop it. “But it’s also a good point to keep in mind.”
As those soft words of validation graced her ears, Rainbow ran her hoof through Twilight’s fur once more. “Good night, Twi.”
Twilight smiled and turned off the light. As she slipped down into the covers she turned to face Rainbow. “Good night, Dashie.”
“I love you,” Rainbow muttered back before drifting off to sleep.
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.
Of Shooting Stars
Chapter 5: Obligations
One last squeal, followed by the familiar hiss of pressurized air blasting free, and the cabin doors of the train popped open. Much like a flood, the passengers poured out, washing over the arrival platform. When the crowd had mostly cleared the bottleneck, Twilight finally stepped off the train. Perched upon her back sat Morning Light, wound up like a spring. Once the two finally stood on the wood platform, Twilight let out a sigh of relief, while her daughter gasped excitedly.
Looking up, a castle hung precariously off the side of the plateau. Larger than their own home, the country’s seat of power cast a striking shadow over the city. The filly’s eyes drifted from the majestic flowing architecture to the beautiful towers and bustling cityscape sprawled before them.
“Grandma and Grandpa’s house!” Light pointed to the city at large.
“Yes, we’re in Canterlot.” Twilight paused, mentally scolding herself before she could roll her eyes at her daughter. Even if she had told her over twenty times on the train ride where they were going.
“I wanna go!” Light said, standing on Twilight’s back. She leaned forward to the point she almost fell off, at least until Twilight’s magic wrangled her and forced the filly straight ahead.
“We have to meet your father first,” Twilight reminded—for what felt like the hundredth time. With a hoof against her forehead, she blocked the sun from her eyes and scanned the crowd. “Where is she?” she muttered.
Shortly behind the two, Spike stepped off. His arms crossed tightly, and a stern look plastered on his face. When he came to a stop at Twilight's hind leg, he kicked the air and let out a humph .
“What’s wrong, Spike?” Light asked, leaning off her mom’s back until her head dipped into Spike’s field of view.
“Nothing,” he muttered, averting his eyes.
Twilight looked down her nose at him. “It's been a week, are you still worried about Rarity?”
He puffed out his chest, meeting her gaze with a swelling pride in her eyes. “It's her big day today!”
“And worrying about her won't make it better.” Twilight's ears fell flat as she rolled her eyes.
“Twilight, I’m going to go see her,” he stated, strutting past Twilight, head held high.
She glanced back with a flat look. “Go show off then, see how she appreciates you underestimating her.” After that, she turned her nose up at the dragon.
“Since you won’t help, I’ll have to!” He stomped his foot.
As Spike stomped past her, Twilight followed him with her eyes. “Well, don’t let your love of Rarity make you miss the Wonderbolts show.”
He waved a claw dismissively before joining the amorphous crowd, leaving Twilight and Light adrift. His attitude was simply uncalled for, as far as Twilight was concerned. Infatuation was no excuse for such behavior, simply because she wouldn’t bend to his whims. Before Twilight even voiced her thoughts on Spike’s departure, Light lept up into the air.
“Dad!” the girl shouted then flopped onto the ground, backside first.
Twilight, already hoof outstretched, reached for her daughter to help her back up, but the filly scrambled to her hooves before she even got close. “Dad!” she repeated, thrusting a hoof skyward.
Bringing her foreleg she had just tried to scoop Light up with up to block the sun, Twilight turned her gaze skyward. Among a few pegasus ponies dotting the space above the platform, one stood out. Growing larger by the second, a rainbow streak behind, the pony made a pass over the crowd, garnering a few cheers and gasps.
When Rainbow Dash circled around, she set down in front of Twilight. “Hey,” she said, a wide smirk resting cockily on her lips. Rather than her Wonderbolts uniform—what Twilight expected Rainbow to wear—she instead wore a ragged brown flight jacket with a plethora of patches stitched on its chest.
“Hi,” Twilight replied, taking a deep breath. Between the “no word for a whole week” and that entrance, more than a few pieces of Twilight’s mind jumped at the bit. What took her so long? Why did she showboat when she knew her family was waiting? What’s with that confident smirk and simple “hey” after she had been stuck with their daughter all week and no help? The list certainly went on, but absolutely none of those mattered when something interjected amidst the simmering nag-soup in her brain—something positively perfect for rectifying the situation.
“Daddy!” Light lept up from the ground, wrapping her forelegs around Rainbow’s neck. Twilight covered her mouth, barely blocking a small chuckle as Light dangled from Rainbow’s neck, dragging her down to the ground. But before Rainbow even had a chance to protest, little hooves scrambled for a hoofhold. Soon Light climbed her like a living mountain. Hooves planted into her jacket, yanking and tugging against her skin, Rainbow showed a few winces when Light traversed around her shoulder. Once on the pegasus’ back, Light reared on her hind legs and flopped herself on her father’s head with. A pleased grin shining on her little face.
In an instant, the pressure released like a steam vent. A whole week’s worth of pent-up frustration, mere seconds from exploding, faded; karmic justice now served. Light, pleased as could be, perched atop her chauffeur’s head brought a smile to Twilight’s face and a weight off her shoulders—figurative and literal. “Did you miss daddy?” she asked Light, standing on her tiphooves to look her daughter square in the eye.
“Mmhmm!” Light nodded, her chin smacking Rainbow in the head repeatedly.
Rainbow flinched with each tap against her skull. “I missed you too, squirt.” Her gaze shifted from straight up to Twilight. “And I missed you too,” she added, rearing up slightly to give the alicorn a quick peck on the cheek.
Twilight wrapped a foreleg around Rainbow’s neck, slithering between it and Light’s hind legs. “Me too,” Twilight pressed her cheek to Rainbow’s.
Just as the moment sweetened, however, a sudden bright flash yanked Twilight from her personal paradise. Brow furrowed, she scanned the crowd, finding most gawking and a few cameras at the ready. That was her culprit right there. Another flash and eyes on the three of them were enough to spoil the moment beyond recovery. She yanked her cheek away from her wife’s, warm remnants on her skin begging her to put it back.. “H-how about we get something to eat? I’m famished.”
When Twilight looked back to Rainbow, she found her glaring at the same onlookers, though more overt than Twilight had. That was a luxury Rainbow had over her—princesses simply should not outright chastise their subjects for swooning at her. At least she tried not to.
“Save it for the stunt show! I haven’t seen my family in a week!” Rainbow barked, thrusting a hoof and running it over the gawkers. “Seriously, way to spoil the mood,” she added. All at once, she stepped to Twilight’s side and flicked her tail like a whip at the gawkers. She then spread her wing and wrapped it around her taller alicorn partner’s back before pulling Twilight along. One look at a nervous stallion in her path and the crowd parted, making an out for the small family.
Though the train station was long since left in the distance, the crowds remained thick like a swamp. Amidst the dull roar of ponies chattering, vendors called from stalls on either side of the street. Trinkets and trash along with the alluring aroma of unhealthy food. The charred smell of butter-soaked roasted corn, sensational salted and fried vegetable scents wafting aimlessly, and the delectable pastry fragrance, all beckoning those venturing through the Canterlot streets. “Come hither,” it would call, accompanied by a steamy finger—at least to those famished enough.
Twilight let out a low hum, tongue running across her lips as she spied fried cucumber on a stick. “Why does street food look so good?” she asked, but when she turned to her family, she found both ignoring her. Light too entranced by the sights and sounds of the big city, and Rainbow’s gaze locked forward. A stern gaze resting on the pegasus’ face telling Twilight she wasn’t in the mood for idle chit-chat. “Nevermind.”
"Stupid jerks,” Rainbow muttered under her breath.
“Stupid jerks,” Light repeated while giggling.
“Hey!” Rainbow turned her glare up at the filly atop her head. “Don’t talk like that.”
“Lead by example then,” Twilight corrected with a smug smirk. “Not that you have the worst cursing habit out there.”
Her response came in the form of a tongue stuck out from Rainbow’s lips. Another chorus of laughs from Light soon followed which only made Twilight roll her eyes. After a small smirk spread across Rainbow’s face, the filly’s laughter turned infectious and soon she chuckled herself.
“I don’t like being a spectacle,” Rainbow said, her stern look finally fading.
Twilight leaned into Rainbow’s side. “Wrong career then,” she said, still getting an earful of giggles from their daughter. “And wife.”
Rainbow tilted her head back, Light slipping slightly. “Well, I do , just not all the time. You know?”
Again, Twilight snickered. “Just not when we’re having a moment?”
“Exactly!”
Twilight continued to laugh. “Well, we’re still getting stared at, by the way.”
Once more, a frown appeared on Rainbow’s lips as she rolled her eyes. “At least they’re not taking pictures while we were kissing.” She cringed. “Oh, Celestia, that’s going to be in the papers tomorrow!”
Twilight’s eyes wandered. A few ponies whispered to one another as the family passed followed by awkward smiles and the occasional wave. “It wouldn’t be the first time,” she replied, turning her sights from the busy streets to straight ahead. Though a particular sign jutting out over the road caught Twilight’s attention. Always Sunny it read, bringing a smile to Twilight’s face. Perhaps by memory alone—the mouth-watering smell of toasted sandwiches graces her nostrils. Or maybe the cafe’s food really was so enticing it overpowered the surrounding fried street food. “So about lunch…”
“What about—” Rainbow found herself cut off, the air forced from her lungs.
Without warning Twilight dashed through the gate of a fenced-in patio, yanking Rainbow by her collar. The space packed with ponies enjoying the festivities without care, and yet another a delectable whiff of toasted sandwiches and fried chips. “I haven’t eaten here in ages !”
She set Rainbow down at one of the few free tables. Using her magic, she hoisted Light off her back and sat her in her own seat. “This place has the best paninis and freshly made chips!”
When the world stopped spinning, Rainbow settled her sights on Twilight. Her wife—a princess—clapping her hooves together like a filly. The mental image sold further with a giant smile on her less-than-regal face. “Yeah, because the greasy food is exactly what I need before a big show.”
Hooves stopping mid-clap, Twilight returned Rainbow’s look with a lidded gaze. “It’s a good thing this place has the best boiled potato and fire-grilled parsnips sandwich with sweet corn aioli. Did I mention roasted zucchini slices with a pinch of salt and pepper.”
What started as an annoyed glare shifted as the proposition settled, slowly working its way to playful sort of glare as her eyebrows relaxed. For a moment Rainbow flicked her eyes to a nearby clock and when she returned her sights to Twilight, a smile soon spread across her face. The irresistible blend of sweets and carbs made her mouth water. “If it’s not the literal best I’ve ever had, I’m going to be miffed.”
Hoof to her chest, Twilight feigned a gasp. “You’re expecting it to top mine?”
Rainbow closed her eyes for a moment, hiding an obvious roll under her lids. “If you make one I’ll let you know how it measures up.”
Twilight stuck out her tongue briefly. “I’ll take that as a yes and go order.”
“Thanks.”
Light raised a hoof. “I want—”
“I don’t think they’ll have macaroni and cheese…” A corner of Twilight’s mouth dipped down as she flatly eyed the filly. “I’ll get you a grilled cheese, alright?”
The filly blinked absently for a moment. Her eyes darted around the table before finally giving a nod. “Yeah!”
Head held high, Twilight left the table. “I knew you’d find that agreeable,” she said disappearing inside the cafe proper.
After what felt like ages, she came out from the cafe. Taking a seat at the table, what confidence she had left with fell into a pile as she collapsed in her chair. “They’re out of potatoes, zucchini, the fire-roasted tomato soup I like, and cheese.” Throwing her hooves into the air, Twilight cried "Cheese of all things!”
Rainbow’s gaze shifted from Twilight to their daughter, then back to Twilight. “So did you place an order?”
“No,” Twilight said plainly, dropping her muzzle to the table and covering it with her forelegs. She stared blankly at the table’s center for a few moments. A small twitch just outside her field of vision eventually caught her attention, pulling her eyes over. Light stared back, ear flicking as she mimicked her. The two locked eyes, Twilight’s radiated mild irritation and Light’s filled with hopeless naivety.
“No grilled cheese?” the filly asked, muffled under her hooves.
“No grilled cheese,” Rainbow stated, also muffled. When Twilight turned her eyes to Rainbow, she saw she also buried her muzzle under her legs as well. Unlike Light, Rainbow was clearly mocking. Soon her shoulders rocked as a quiet snicker slithered its way from under her hooves.
In an instant, Twilight sat up, ears standing at attention. “I had my heart set on this place, so don’t tease me.” When she noticed Rainbow, now openly, laughing beneath her hooves, she frowned. Teased and now mocked. Such an injustice would not stand. She puffed out her cheeks and looked to Light, still staring up at her innocently in the same pose. With pursed lips, she took a deep breath.
“Don’t be like that, Twi,” Rainbow finally said, sliding her hooves from atop her muzzle. “Light told me you wanted to spend a few days here, right?”
Twilight nodded.
“We can come tomorrow then when it’s not as busy.” Standing, Rainbow moved to Twilight’s side of the table and placed a wing around her. “For now, how about some ice cream?”
Like a spring, Light popped onto her hind legs. “Ice cream!” she shouted, drawing a few stares from those nearby.
Tapping a hoof to her chin, Twilight hummed. The sweet and creamy texture did picture nicely on her tongue. Though it certainly didn’t hold a candle to a hay-patty melt with tomatoes and daisy petals with a side cup of savory soup. But before Twilight had a chance to mull the idea over, two small hooves grabbed her muzzle.
“Mom, can we?” Light stared deep into Twilight’s eyes, a wide, explosive gaze like she had just seen a firework go off for the first time.
But as sweet as the look was, Twilight narrowed her gaze. “We can, if you get off the table this instant, young lady.”
Suddenly Light’s ears folded flat. Quicker than a flash, she hopped off the table, and just as quickly, the filly turned her pleading sights back to her parents. Eyes bounced with the regularity of a pendulum between Twilight and Rainbow respectively.
The two mares looked at one another, a let out a small chuckle. “That’s a yes, squirt. Let’s go.”
Only a few minutes later, Light, still perched on Rainbow’s back, had a chocolate dipped waffle cone clutched tightly in her little hooves. Her tongue flapped wildly across the glistening frosty surface. Each crazed stroke sent chocolate ice cream chunks splattering everywhere as the filly tried her best to coat every inch of her tongue in the sugary treat.
Twilight looked on with an eyebrow raised. Slowly, she brought a small vanilla filled cone to her lips and delicately licked the frozen cream. Once she tucked away her tongue-full of ice cream in her mouth, she turned her eyes forward. “Where did she learn to eat like that?”
“Have you seen yourself eat a hayburger?” Rainbow took a small sip through a straw of the reddish-purple drink smelling heavily of berries held by her wing.
Twilight nearly choked on the melted cream as she swallowed. “I am not that messy!”
“Not that messy, huh?” Rainbow raised an eyebrow. “So after you’ve devoured it, where do you think the explosion of ketchup and mustard came from?”
Turning her gaze to Rainbow, Twilight frowned and a small groan slipped through her lips. “Way to ruin my comfort food. Now I’m totally going to act self-conscious every time I eat in public.” Her eyes dropped to the ground for a moment as they continued to move through the city. Disgust wormed its way up her spine before she shook her head, flinging the lingering thought free for the time being.
“You asked.” Rainbow shrugged, taking another sip from her smoothie. After she swallowed, she nudged Twilight with her opposite wing and smirked. “So, changing the topic, how’d your speech turn out?”
The question hit, and Twilight tilted her head from the impact. “It’s, um,” she scratched her face, “satisfactory.”
Unwittingly, Rainbow let out a single laugh. “You sound so confident.”
“It came together much better when Spike and Starlight helped take Light off my hands.” She cleared her throat. “I know ponies will like it, but I recognize it’s not my best work.” Eyes trailed down as Twilight took another lick from her ice cream. The smooth vanilla flavor melted on her tongue, spreading across it until she finally swallowed the cream remnants. “It’s just a festival. Not exactly a time to unite the country, you know?”
Once more, Rainbow laughed. “Yeah, you’re just giving a speech to kick off a show your wife’s been preparing for a few weeks. No big deal.”
Twilight chewed her lower lip. A twang of pain pierced her heart, tugging it down in her chest. “When you put it that way…”
Again, Rainbow tapped Twilight with her wing. “I’m teasing you. I know it’s not a huge deal. To be honest, Spitfire threw together parts of older routines to make the one we’re doing.” As she spoke, she tilted her head back, looking to the crystal clear sky above. “It’s not groundbreaking, but it looks good and has some crowd pleasers.”
“As long as ponies like it, right?”
“That’s what matters.” As they walked, Rainbow let her eyes drift closed. She tilted her head slowly until a pop was heard. “Anything else happen this week?”
“My mother stopped by,” Twilight said, turning her gaze away from Rainbow. Slowly she leaned into the pegasus’ side.
But as soon as Twilight said Velvet stopped by, Rainbow’s shoulders and neck went stiff as a board. She gulped and cleared her throat. “That’s cool.”
A low groan cut the air between them for just a moment when Twilight rolled her eyes. “My mother doesn’t hate you.”
“No,” Rainbow replied, strangely upbeat. “She just doesn’t like me very much.”
Again Twilight chewed her lower lip. “Any dislike she really doesn’t have for you has nothing to do with Light.”
Suddenly the filly’s ears perked up. “What’re you talking about?”
“Nothing. Eat your ice cream,” Twilight and Rainbow both replied in unison.
Once Light was entranced by her ice cream, the two continued their conversation. “Of course not.” Rainbow let out a hard chuckle. “I’m pretty sure she hates me because she thinks I’m a lousy parent. You know, let’s add wife to that list too because I’m sure she thinks I suck at that too.” Her tone fell flat.
“She’s opinionated.” Twilight turned her nose up. “Just like you .”
Just then Rainbow cringed. “Don’t compare me to your mom, please?”
Twilight cracked a small smile, leaning into Rainbow’s side and rubbing her cheek against the mare’s mane. “I think she’s critical because she sees so much of herself in you. Just without the same married experience.”
When Twilight took her cheek away, Rainbow looked to the sky once more. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Anyway,” Twilight started, pulling Rainbow’s gaze from the sky, “Talking with my mom helped. I’ve thought about what you asked the last night you were home.” A single drip from her ice cream ran the length of the cone. At the bottom, the stream pooled until a lone drop broke free and fell to the ground. “When you asked if I wanted another just to keep you home, I realized I want one because I want one. I don’t feel like our family’s complete yet.”
Narrowing her eyes, Rainbow looked away. “I really don’t want to talk about this right now. I’ve got a show soon…”
After a quick lick of her ice cream to clear away the drip, Twilight’s lips twisted in a frown. “Have you thought about it at all?”
“Not really.”
Once again Twilight turned her nose up. “I find that hard to believe.”
“You said you wouldn’t bug me about this.”
“I’m not,” Twilight clarified. “I was simply answering your question and you got defensive.”
Suddenly Rainbow held up a hoof. “Let’s stop. It’s been a week since we’ve seen each other. I don’t want to have a fight.”
Twilight sighed. “I didn’t think we were, but alright. Let’s drop it.”
The two looked around the thinning streets. Crowds weren’t as thick now that they had walked far from the train station and street vendors. The signs on the shops resembled saddle bags, dresses, and hats rather than the cafes and tourist shops centered at the city gates. Twilight tapped her chin. “I think Rarity’s shop was around here.”
Rainbow raised an eyebrow. A few hoity-toity ponies caught her eyes, each with their heads held high and sporting flowing dresses or suit jackets. “When did we even get into the fashion district?”
“Not sure,” Twilight said, eyes scanning the sparse crowd a little lower than usual in hopes of seeing a green head-fin zipping about. When she saw neither hide nor scale of Spike, she let out a low sigh. “Since we’re here we should stop by and see Rarity.” She pointed down a side street, one where the roar of a crowd grew louder. Peering down, the street was definitely busier, and the few shops visible boasted colorful and sparkling displays of their latest wares in the window. “She should be the next street over if I recall.”
Rainbow glanced down the side street, and then back to Light. The filly met her gaze and smiled with her chocolate-coated lips. “I take it Spike ran off as soon as you guys got here to go see Rarity?” Rainbow asked, a smirk spreading across her face.
Light nodded while Twilight rolled her eyes. “That obvious?” she asked, motioning down the side street with an extended hoof.
Rainbow shrugged. “Well, he wasn’t with you, and you didn’t seem bothered by that, so I just kinda assumed.”
The three stepped down the short side street, soon cutting over into another main road. This one was a bit larger, easily fitting two carriages on either side. The cobblestone that composed Canterlot streets worn smooth from travel beneath them, almost slick from the dirt collected on it. But despite the road showing its age, the buildings all boasted fresh paint, flashy canopy fabrics, and streetlights lined with banners boasting a veritable rainbow of fall colors.
Twilight raised her nose high, breathing deep the rich bouquet, a fragrance that made her heart flutter with nostalgia. The air, once suffocatingly thick with the scents of street food—not entirely unwelcomed earlier—now expressed depth her nose hadn’t experienced in ages. Distant fire-roasted aromas now accented the cool, fall air. A sweet mixture of leaves and grass that melded with spices seemingly from nowhere that foretold ponies, deep down in their bones they knew, winter was slowly, but surely coming.
A delightful twang caught her ear, making it twitch—a guitar, and soon drums joined. Further up the road, a finely dressed band assembled on a makeshift stage, drawing awestruck smiles from even the upper crust crowd they found themselves playing for.
Not even realizing, Twilight grabbed Rainbow by the foreleg and pulled her towards the band. “Come on, I want to watch!” What should have been a simple task—pulling Rainbow—Twilight found difficult as the pegasus was like a boulder.
“I thought you wanted to go check on Rarity and Spike?” Rainbow asked.
Her once perked ears fell slightly as a frown formed on Twilight’s lips. She turned her eyes from Rainbow back to the stage. “They can wait a few minutes, right?.”
Using Twilight’s grip, Rainbow tugged her back, causing Twilight to jerk in her direction. When she looked at Rainbow, the pegasus stuck out her tongue. “I don’t think the band is going anywhere, Twi.”
Twilight sighed. “You’re right.” Putting a smile on her face, she scanned the shop signs. “Let’s go make sure Spike isn’t bugging Rarity too much .”
But as she scanned, something caught her eye. Ponies jerked violently up the street, as though shoved by some invisible force. Twilight and Rainbow both cocked an eyebrow as the wave of pony shoving drew closer until there were no ponies left to shove. When the last one bumped out of his way, Spike plowed through the crowd, huffing and puffing at the same intersection Twilight and Rainbow stood. His eyes flicked between the two side streets as he chewed on his lower lip.
“Spike?” Rainbow finally asked.
Light poked around her dad’s head and waved her hoof. “Spike!”
It took a moment for the words to reach the dragon, worming their way through his distraught state. When they did, he stood straight up, eyes locking to his family. In an instant, he flashed a big, relieved smile. “Twilight! Rainbow!” he cried, running towards them. Without missing a beat, he hugged Twilight’s foreleg, but rather than leaning in, he leaned back on his heels. “Rarity needs your help!”
Twilight glanced to Rainbow, keeping her eyebrow raised. When she looked back to Spike, she picked the dragon up in her magic. “What happened, Spike?”
“I told you!” he said, a glare now resting on his face. “I told you and you didn’t believe me! She needed our help and now it’s bad!”
Twilight rolled her eyes. “Seriously?”
“Yes!” He crossed his arms. “Now will you help her?”
Twilight looked over at a confused Rainbow before rolling her eyes again. “We were on our way to see Rarity anyway, so we’ll find out what this is about.” After that, she flipped Spike over her head and dropped him on her back.
“Hurry, she doesn't have much time!” Spike yelled, pointing through the crowd he just plowed through.
Twilight—skeptically—and Rainbow—confused—both unfurled their wings and took to the air, bound for Rarity’s shop.
Of Shooting Stars
Chapter 6: Catharsis
A sweet jingle graced Twilight’s ears as soon as the door opened. Her eyes turned upward at the source, finding a small bell dangling just in the door’s path. A simple, yet effective way to alert the shopkeep to a customer’s presence, though that didn’t seem too necessary at the moment. The open showroom, lined with dresses along the walls already bore four mares browsing the new wares.
With a quick scan, Twilight found hide nor curled hair of the proprietor and supposed damsel in distress. Sauntering, Twilight and her family made their way to the latest line Rarity had slaved over. Bright oranges and vivid reds dominated the dresses adorning the walls. The tails sprawling out like a sheet made of leaves, vein-like stitches weaved their way from collar to skirt—the cool fall air was almost palpable.
“Where’s Rarity, Spike?” Rainbow finally asked after taking in the fall line. “I was kinda expecting to walk in on a scene here.”
When Rainbow shifted her gaze to the little dragon sitting on Twilight’s back, he chewed his lower lips. “There will be a scene!” he proclaimed, sliding down his ride’s side. “Rarity’s been stressing about this all—”
Twilight sighed, her hoof already firmly pressed against her forehead. “There will be a scene?” she asked, peeking from under her pinched eyelids. “You made it sound like she was being robbed or something, Spike.”
“Listen—” he stomped his foot “—she’s on the verge of losing her shop here and—” Before Spike could finish, the twin doors leading to the back swung open.
Out stepped Rarity, glasses perched upon her nose, eyes closed and carrying herself tall. Each step she took was as graceful as a figure skater, elegantly gliding across her showroom floor. She paused by a nearby customer—a mare with a soft yellow coat and fiery orange mane. When she opened her eyes, a sweet smile rested on her lips, soothing those who looked upon. “Honestly, darling, I wouldn’t go with this dress.” Using her magic, Rarity hoisted the garment from the mare’s foreleg and put it back on the rack. Without even looking, from the top rack beyond the earth pony’s reach, she grabbed another. “That one doesn’t bring out the stunning highlights in your mane.” She brushed the mare’s locks with the tip of her hoof and passed the dress onto her.
“This one’s a bit out of my price range though…” The mare trailed off as a frown settled in.
Rarity merely laughed. “I shan’t suffer somepony leaving my boutique without the perfect dress.” A flash of blue and she plucked the price tag off. “Is the same price as the other fair?”
Instantly the mare’s frown flipped. “Thank you so much!”
“Please, don’t mention it.” The two made their way to the counter where the mare paid for her dress.
Twilight, Rainbow, and Spike all approached Rarity once the transaction was complete and the pony had left. “Hi, Rarity,” Twilight said.
“Twilight! Rainbow!” Rarity stepped around the counter and hugged the two in turn. “I saw you both come in, but business called.”
“No biggie.” Rainbow shrugged.
“Hi, Aunt Rarity!” Light said with a big smirk on her face as Rarity hugged Rainbow. Before the mare pulled away from the hug, she gave a playful tap on Light’s nose and a big smile, causing the filly to let loose a short laugh.
“So are you looking for something? Perhaps for your speech this afternoon at the show?” She asked, turning her gaze to Twilight, running her eyes along the alicorn’s figure. Dress designs practically danced in Rarity’s eyes, just imagining what designs for the event would be perfect. When her eyes fell onto Rainbow, however, that enthusiasm vanished. “And a blue jumpsuit for you, I expect?”
Rainbow shrugged. “It is called a uniform for a reason.”
Rarity sighed, forlorn. “Of course.”
“Unfortunately—” Twilight interrupted Rarity by pushing Spike front and center from where he hid “—we’re not here for clothes. Someone called us here like there was an emergency.”
Spike glared up at Twilight. “I told you, it is a problem! Her landlord’s coming by today and is probably going to shut her down!”
Twilight rolled her eyes. “Spike, you’re exaggerating.”
“Egg-zagerating!” Light snickered from behind her hoof.
The daintiest cough cut the air. All eyes turned to Rarity to see her covering her mouth and eyes buried deep in a corner. “It’s not much to worry about at all, really.” She sucked in a deep breath and let out a sigh. “I did mention my new landlord would stop by today. Just to reaffirm the changes to my leasing agreement.” There was a short pause before Rarity took a long, drawn-out breath. “It’s been a struggle transitioning to this new company over correspondence, so I am somewhat looking forward to the opportunity to speak with a representative face-to-face.”
When everything Rarity said settled in Twilight’s ears, giving her brain enough time to process it, she raised an eyebrow in response. “Rarity, what’s going on, exactly?”
“Well, I assure you, Sassy and I have looked into it thoroughly. It’s all above board. Since somepony bought my leasing agreement last Spring, they have raised my store’s rent five percent.” Rarity cleared her throat again, “Every month since.”
The slightest shiver in her shoulder stopped Twilight and Rainbow dead. What was easily dismissed as merely childish exaggeration by Spike became all too real. That display before—practically giving that dress away—while something Rarity would do, now cast in a new light. Desperation. But keeping calm and playing it off as entirely natural—that was the mark of a professional.
Twilight swallowed the lump in her throat. “Rarity, we’re talking a—what—thirty-four percent increase in six months? That can’t be legal.”
Rarity nodded. “Canterlot law doesn’t dictate maximums for rent increases from contract to contract. Now, I was under a yearly lease, but when this new landlord of mine bought the building, they insisted on a month-by-month lease.” Hoof pressed to her forehead, she let out a sigh. “Had I known it would have led to this, I certainly would have insisted on a year-long contract. I would have at least been locked into a lower rate.”
The room fell silent for a moment while Twilight put a hoof to her chin. “Where is Sassy at anyway? Shouldn’t your business manager be here?”
Light tugged on Rainbow’s mane. “What’re you talking about?”
“Nothing, squirt,” Rainbow retorted quickly, batting the filly’s hoof from her hanging locks.
Rarity took a deep breath. “I gave her the day off. Between ensuring my line was done, marketed, and the legal research she undertook on my behalf, she deserves it.”
“Doubt she actually wanted it though,” Rainbow remarked under her breath. Looking around the store, she chewed her lower lip. “She’s as invested as you are, Rarity.”
“I know,” Rarity whined, dragging her hoof from her forehead down her cheek. “I can’t just move. There aren’t any open storefronts here and leaving the fashion district would certainly hurt my business.” Another shiver from the mare as she looked around her store. “I’d be seen as a cheap knockoff without the prestige of this location.”
“I’m sure your reputation would draw customers, not the fact your store in here .”
“Twilight, image is everything when it comes to fashion.” Rarity puffed he chest, flicking her mane back with a hoof. “The store one purchases from is as important as the prestige of the designer.”
Twilight rolled her eyes. “You are the image, Rarity. If this keeps up, you’re looking at your rent here almost doubling within a year. Is the store’s location worth that price?”
For a moment, Rarity simply stared down at the floor. Silence filled the air as she returned a hoof to her cheek, then breaking it with another sigh. “No,” she finally admitted. “I can’t—”
Suddenly the bell hanging above the door jingled just loud enough to cut the air.
Without missing a beat, Rarity put on the cheeriest smile anyone had ever seen and rounded the counter. “Welcome to—”
“Miss Rarity,” a sweet, southern drawl rolled off the tongue of the mare who entered. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet your acquaintance proper.”
Rarity, without missing a beat, nodded. “I’m so sorry, I’m in such high demand. Is there anything, in particular, you’re looking for?”
“You, of course.” The mare chuckled, a hollow sort of laugh that pulled the life out of those who heard it.. “I was giddy at the prospect.”
The mare’s syrupy sweet voice struck a chord with Twilight. Somewhere, deep in the recesses of her mind, that mixture of sweet and that particular accent made her nauseous. Rainbow swiftly elbowed Twilight to grab her attention and thrust her hoof in the direction of the mare. A unicorn of average height with an ivory coat that positively glowed in the afternoon sun seeping through the windows. The silver locks atop her head nearly just as radiant as her coat swished as the mare brushed her hoof along her cheek. But her eyes. Deep blue and cold and bottomless as the ocean itself.
Twilight’s heart sank in her chest once she took the whole pony in. “Silver Crown,” she muttered, unwittingly glaring in her direction.
“Who’s that, Mom?” Light asked, tilting her head to steal a quick glance at the pony in question from behind Rainbow’s hair.
“A massive pain in the—” Rainbow cut herself off with an oof when Twilight elbowed her back.
It seemed they weren’t the only one to take notice of the other as Silver met Twilight’s gaze briefly with a devilish smirk. The sensation of her oily gaze made Twilight’s skin go cold.
Rarity cleared her throat softly. “Me?” she questioned, bringing a hoof over her heart.
Silver turned her sickening sights back to the Rarity, still boasting her awful smile. “Of course, I couldn’t keep correspondence just through letters.” Again, her blueish silver mane swished as she rolled her neck, glossing over the empire Rarity had built. “I wouldn’t be a proper landlord if I did, now would I?”
Suddenly Rarity went stiff. “Oh,” she muttered after a short while, simply blinking at the mare. “SC Leasing is…"
“My company, of course." The mare’s horn flashed for a moment followed by a blinding light. In an instant, a small business card appeared between Rarity and Silver.
Rarity followed the card with her eyes before snatching at it with her hoof. She missed on the first pass, then took ahold the card in her magic as it fluttered to the ground. Adjusting her glasses she looked over the small slip and nodded. “Well, Mrs. Crown, it’s a pleasure to meet you in person.”
Rarity extended a hoof that Silver turned her nose up at. She brushed past her, sauntering further into the store, her fridged gaze slithering along the walls. “It’s the second time we’ve met, darlin’ .”
Hoof still hanging, Rarity blinked absently where Silver once stood. After a moment she glanced down at her hoof and drew it to her chest. “Y-yes, I suppose. At Twilight’s coronation, though we weren’t introduced.”
“Last year’s Gala, actually,” Silver corrected, turning her sights back on Rarity. “Hearsay about such a prestigious new face in fashion and your charming personality drew me over to you. We spoke for a bit about your operation here and I knew I needed a piece of that pie.” The corner of her mouth turned up ever so slightly. Mixed with her cold gaze, not the slightest hint of sincerity resonated in her words or smile. Quite the contrary. For Twilight, watching Rarity reminded her of Opal playing with a mouse she found outside Rarity’s shop once. The way Silver moved back towards Rarity, circling her while keeping her eyes locked on the younger mare.
But as much as Twilight wanted to put an end to it, she found herself instead holding Rainbow back. The pegasus, chest puffed out, already inching her way towards Silver. A fiery glare locked and a mouth loaded with spite, Twilight pressed hard on Rainbow’s shoulder. It was best she kept her out of it, especially since she didn’t want Light having a front row seat to that type of tongue lashing.
“But now that you mention the coronation, I do recall seeing you at that dreadful fiasco.” Slowly, Silver rolled her head, drawing in a breath as she did. “Chickens coming home to roost and all that,” she muttered, turning her gaze back to Twilight.
It was almost like Twilight was pierced with an icicle as soon as Silver’s eyes were on her. She cringed, turning her head away.
Light leaned, pulling Rainbow’s mane to the side to finally catch a glimpse of the mare. As Silver’s eyes fell upon the filly, her nose wrinkled in disgust. “Speaking of fowl, you’re just the goose who keeps giving me golden eggs, aren’t you?” Her words wrapped around Rarity’s ears like an octopus tentacle—slimy and writhing. “This here location is a premium piece of real estate,” she remarked, pausing for a moment after. “And you—you’re a premium name. You and this store go together like cookies and cream, darlin’ .”
For a moment, Rarity stood taller than she had been, her ears raising slightly at the praise. “Of course, I do pride myself in excelling here.”
“Exactly,” Silver retorted, her tone sharp as a knife. “Which is why I wanted to discuss your rental agreement here in person.”
“Yes.” Rarity nodded. “I was hoping we would have the chance to discuss that. You see, the leasing price has been rather—”
“Low.” The older mare turned her sights down to her hoof, inspecting it front and back.
“L-low?” Rarity repeated, her eyes widening.
“It’s too low for what a store by a premiere fashion designer, like yourself, in a location like this is capable of making. The small increases the last few months was me testing the waters, you see. I wanted to be sure you could handle the meager increases before I started charging market value. To ease you in, of course.” Her tone wasn’t the only thing sharp. She turned her gaze up at Rarity, piercing right through the mare with little care.
“You can’t mean…”
“I think double is fair, darlin’. You should have no problem making that with these—” Silver idly waved a hoof towards the dress-lined wall adjacent her “—designs of yours.”
The words struck Rarity like daggers. Not just in her ears, but her heart. She stumbled back. “I’m already struggling to make your outrageous demands as it is. I know there’s no way leases are that high, even for other shops on this street.”
A slimy smirk spread across Silver’s lips. “Well, tough luck, darlin’ . I’m not running a charity. If you want the premium storefront, you’ll have to pay the premium price.”
Jaw clenched, Twilight stomped her hoof. She proceeded to take a step towards Silver, but Rarity held up a hoof stopping her in her tracks.
With all the grace of a queen, Rarity took a short breath and put a confident smile on. Her eyes briefly met Spike’s, only forcing her head higher with pride. “Silver, darling , I think you’ve made a grave mistake. As you so eloquently put it, I’m the ‘goose that lays the golden eggs,’ was it?” Dainty, she sauntered over to the older mare, meeting her gaze head-on. “You lost all your negotiating power with that turn of phrase right there.”
Silver raised an eyebrow, running her eyes up and down Rarity. “How so?”
“Simple.” Rarity pressed her hoof into Silver’s chest. “You—” she turned her hoof back on herself “—need me.” Rarity giggled, stepping back and circling around towards her friends. “As Twilight brought to my attention just before you arrived, this place—while everything I’ve ever wanted, isn’t why ponies buy my designs.”
The older mare opened her mouth, but Rarity didn’t even give her a chance to speak.
“If you think I’ll roll over and pay those sort of prices for a silly location, I’ll take my business elsewhere—quite literally—and you’ll lose a stable, reliable tenant that makes this property so valuable in the first place.”
“Way to go, Rares,” Rainbow whispered just loud enough for Spike and Twilight to hear.
“If you wish to raise my rent, consider this my rejection of your terms and a lease termination notification.”
The air hung silent for a moment until a short laugh broke the tension. Silver smirked once more and loosed another sharp laugh. She glanced over to Twilight before leaning into Rarity’s ear. “No matter where you go, I’ll be there to make your life a living hell,” she whispered. “I own almost half of this city already and what I don’t own, I’ll buy just to be there for you.”
The confidence in Rarity’s face melted and she took a step back. “What?”
“You think this is about money?” Silver asked, no longer looking at Rarity, but to the group of onlookers. “You’re a tool. An object. A stepping stone,” she continued, gaze firmly locked on Twilight. “Since the princess here is untouchable, the next best thing I could do is ruin the lives of those around her.”
Twilight’s eyes went wide. “Are you serious?” she muttered.
“After spending a year petitioning the courts, Celestia, and other nobles, I got nowhere.” Ears folded back, Silver glared as she approached Twilight. Her voice now a low, almost primal growl. “How could I hurt the mare who embarrassed me in front of all of Canterlot? The girl who defied me?”
As Silver approached, Rainbow glanced back briefly to see Light’s eyes wide, her lower lip quivering. It only stoked the flames in Rainbow’s eyes when she turned her sights back on the offending mare.
Silver stood nose to nose with Twilight, hoof into the princess’ chest. “You ruined me, Princess Twilight. And all you had to do was play along. But, no. You had to ruin any chance I had at power. Now that you, your harlot, and that contemptuous spawn of yours are here, I might as well give you the piece of my mind you deserve.”
A tremor rippled through Twilight’s foreleg, and rooted itself at the base of her neck. Rainbow knew that sight—in the years of their marriage and even before then, she had seen it only a few times, but each time stood out in her mind vividly. She gulped and stepped back from Twilight as she noticed her eye twitch. “Light, why don’t you get down off my back and—”
A sudden bright purple flash poofed the filly from Rainbow’s back, onto the ground across the shop. Before Rainbow could even react, a barrier enveloped their daughter, the magic emanating from Twilight’s horn.
“You are the pettiest creature I have ever had the displeasure of meeting,” Twilight said through a clenched jaw. “And I have fought nigh gods and demons holding grudges spanning for millennia.”
Silver’s glare flickered for a moment.
“But here you are, with the audacity to insult my wife and daughter to my face? You’ve wasted the last three years of your life over the most insignificant excuse of a grudge I have ever heard—fitting one as small as you.” Twilight inched closer, letting her height add to the gravity of her words as she stared down into the elder unicorn’s eyes. “You lost nothing when I refused to be your puppet. You were already a waste of space among the noble class, squandering this country’s resources and basking in undeserved privilege that others in your position have chosen to do something useful with.”
Silver dropped down to her haunches as Twilight leaned in closer, forcing the unbridled contempt pouring from her gaze down her throat.
“But instead of doing anything to better the world, you pursued a campaign against me and the ones I love, and for what? To feel better about that miserable hole in your heart you desperately hope bossing others around will fill? I don’t know if this occurred to you, but I have the least in terms of practical power in the government since any decision I make is easily overruled by Celestia or Luna, so whatever seat at the table you were anticipating by coercing me would have left you wanting.”
Silver opened her mouth, but Twilight clamped it shut using her magic.
“Instead of holding a grudge, you should be thanking me. I motivated you to get off your dead rump and earn the power you wanted so badly by your own two hooves. You, who now owns sizable chunks of prime real estate in Canterlot, have built an empire that’s expanded your own wealth and given you the ear of those you so desperately wanted to listen to you. Tell me you couldn’t influence the politics of Canterlot if you so wanted. Branch out into Manehatten or Las Pegasus too in a fleeting attempt to fill that gaping abyss in your soul. I frankly don’t care!”
Mouth still clenched shut by Twilight’s magic, Silver stared up into her eyes with a wide gaze. She gave a small, solitary nod.
“Now, leave my friends and family alone. They have absolutely nothing to do with what happened between us, or you may just find whatever power you built yourself under the scrutiny of monopoly laws and yourself in hot water for targeting and unfair pricing. Do we understand one another?”
Another nod.
“Good.” Twilight released her magic. The muzzle around Silver’s mouth and the barrier around Light both vanished.
Twilight stepped back from the shaking mare while still holding a firm glare on her.
Silver stood up, her whole body shaking as she made her way towards the door. Before she left, she looked at Rarity and glared. “My conditions stand,” she said, trying her best to muster a firm voice through her still-quivering vocal cords.
“As do mine,” Rarity replied, turning up her nose.
With that, the bell above the door chimed and Silver was gone. And with her, the air in the room felt lighter. As though a weight was lifted off the shoulders of everyone there, they could breathe easier.
Twilight let out a sigh, letting her face relax for a moment before turning to Light.
The filly sat small, her eyes bouncing between both her parents.
Giving a strong flap of her wings, Twilight lept from where she stood over to Light and placed a gentle hoof on her shoulder. “Are you alright, Sweetie?”
“That was scary,” Light said plainly.
“Sorry to scare you, but I didn’t want you to hear some of the things I needed to say to that pony.” Twilight pressed a small frown across her face for a moment before flicking her ears up.
“Was she bad?” Light asked.
“Very. She said some hurtful things to your dad and I a long time ago.” Twilight glanced over at Rarity for a moment. “And aunt Rarity too.”
Rarity cleared her throat once she was mentioned. “As much as I wish it were so, I don’t think that will be the last you see of her.”
“It wasn’t the first we had seen of her,” Rainbow interjected. “She tried to keep me out of the Wonderbolts when I first joined, not to mention the time she tried to sue Twilight right after Light was born.” Eyebrows furrowed. Rainbow simply stared at Twilight with a clenched jaw.
“She’s gone now. Let’s move past it.” Twilight turned back to Light, wearing a half smile as she picked the filly up and placed her on her back.
“And what about when she comes back?” Rainbow asked, shaking her head.
“We’ll deal with that when we get there,” Twilight met Rainbow’s glare and rolled her eyes.
“This is exactly my point, Twi!” Rainbow puffed out her chest, moving to Twilight. “She won’t stop, and she’s not alone. This is exactly why we don’t need another kid!” Now nose to nose with Twilight, the alicorn’s eyes went wide.
“I’m just going to go handle something in the back,” Rarity said, dismissing herself and snagging Spike by the tail as she strode past the counter.
“What?” Light asked, her ears perking up at the mention of another kid.
“We’ve got our hooves full with Light as is, and on top of that, we’ve got a frickin’ bullseye on our back. It’s not like we haven’t made our fair share of enemies.”
Suddenly Twilight’s ears folded back. “You don’t think I know that? That’s why I’m here to protect her!”
“The fact you have to protect her is the problem!” Rainbow poked Twilight square in the chest, deflating whatever confidence she had like popping a balloon. “What was the first thing you did when Silver came over to you? You poofed Light across the room and put up a soundproof barrier around her so she wouldn’t hear the stuff you said, right? You can’t do that forever though, and I don’t want her to have to deal with it!”
As Rainbow pushed forward, inching closer to Twilight, the taller alicorn shrank back, until Rainbow wasn’t just eye to eye with her, but actually looking down.
“Seriously, you’re a princess, I’m a Wonderbolt—she’s already lacking supervision most of the time! How often do we leave her with Starlight or Spike?”
“I’m responsible!” Spike spoke up from the doorway only to duck into the backroom when Rainbow shot him a glare.
“It’s not fair to either of them,” she continued, turning back to Twilight. “We don’t have time for Light as it is and that sucks! ” An earth-shattering clop ripped through the air as Rainbow stomped her hoof. “But instead of making time for her, you want to have another kid while ponies like Silver threaten us at every turn?”
The room fell silent as Twilight searched Rainbow’s eyes for a moment. The fire resonating inside them quieted as her glare turned to questioning. Suddenly Rainbow extended a hoof, but Twilight didn’t take it. “You wanted to know if and what I’d been thinking about it so there it is.” She took a deep breath and dropped her hoof when she realized Twilight wasn’t taking it. “It’s like in flying, you have to master one trick before you try to learn another or else you’ll end up tripping yourself up.”
Twilight blinked a few times before shaking her head. “Life isn’t always like flying, Rainbow—”
“And that’s why this is so stupid!” The inferno in Rainbow’s eyes sparked to life once more. “You’re supposed to be the level-headed one who looks at the whole situation! Why can’t you see all the stuff telling you this isn’t a good idea?”
“Because as much as I hate it, family isn’t always logical! Emotions aren’t always logical! If you think it’s not fair to Light, maybe you wouldn’t feel that way if you were home more instead of going off to train with the Wonderbolts for weeks on end!” Twilight leaped up, her chest puffed out once more.
But as her words sunk in, Rainbow’s ears fell flat. As the silence stretch for seconds to what felt like hours, Rainbow turned her head. “I’ve got a show to get to,” she muttered as she started for the door.
Twilight held up a hoof, but her voice refused to come out. No matter how hard she tried to mouth the words, they simply never came. Maybe because the sinking feeling that everything they both said was true and there wasn’t a simple “I’m sorry” that could fix it held her back. Twilight had made enemies and no matter what she did, they would come for those she loved. Rainbow wasn’t around enough to support Twilight and Light. And as Rainbow left the shop, Twilight’s ears fell with her hoof leaving her and Light alone in the room.
“Mom?” Light asked. “Did I do something wrong?”
Twilight closed her eyes, picking Light up with her magic. She brought the filly to her chest and squeezed her tight in her forelegs as she dropped to her haunches. “Absolutely not, Light. Mommy and daddy are just…”
Of Shooting Stars
Chapter 7: Memoriam
Cold water fell from above, covering her entirely. The frigid sensation soaking through her fur dulled her skin. Slowly the outside world faded into the vacant haze left by the droplets crashing down onto the tile floor. Lost inside the glistening shower wall spread before her, Rainbow hoped the shower would wash away the gross stickiness that clung so desperately to her body, but it didn't. It wasn't sweat from the show, and she knew that now since it lingered still.
She pressed her forehead to the wall and closed her eyes. Faint echoes resonated inside her head. “If you were home more!” Twilight's ghostly voice still stung.
Rainbow took a deep breath and opened her eyes. “Like I don't want to be…”
Without looking, she swiped down on the faucet killing the water flow. As the remaining water from the showerhead dripped into her mane, she still stared at the wall. “It’s easy for her to say that, but she knows damn well—”
The clop of hooves on tile broke the otherwise pristine silence of the showers. “You turn into a duck in here or what, Crash?” Rainbow looked up to see Fleetfoot standing in the doorway.
“Lost track of time,” Rainbow muttered, flicking her soaked mane to the side where it clung to her face.
“Spitfire’s waiting on you for the post-show debriefing so dry off.” Fleetfoot tossed a towel to Rainbow before pointing over her shoulder. “She’s in a mood,” she added with a laugh before turning around and stepping through the doorway.
Rainbow rolled her eyes as soon as Fleetfoot was gone. She threw the towel over her head, scrubbing her drenched mane vigorously. “I know I wasn’t on my A-game out there.” When she was satisfied drying, she draped the towel over her neck and looked up at the ceiling.
Why did today have to turn out like this?
Just lifting her hoof felt like wearing lead shoes as she took a small step away from the shower. The mere thought of leaving the empty mares’ showers’ comfort so she could listen to Spitfire rip them a new one for being sloppy made her nauseous. Simply being around others was the last thing she wanted to do, but staying here was only delaying the inevitable.
When Rainbow poked her head out from the hallway leading into the locker room, she saw all the Wonderbolts gathered around Spitfire. “Glad you decided to show up, Crash!” Spitfire raised an eyebrow, though her expression remained flat. “Last in gets first jabs,” she added, her hoarse voice locked fully in “coach mode” punctuating her tone with an extra sting she lacked in casual conversation. “I don’t know what was going on out there, but you were loose on every formation and lagged behind. Clipper almost nailed you on the last quad-helix. I don’t think you want a first hoof demonstration how he earned that name.”
Fleetfoot snickered.
“You find that funny?” Spitfire locked eyes on Fleetfoot. “You know what High Winds didn’t find funny? When her point pony’s quick triggerhoof decided she should pull up early making the second spiral look lopsided!” She launched a hoof at her and narrowed her gaze. “I know it’s the end of the season, kids, but to the ponies that came out to see us today, this wasn’t just some show. It was a Wonderbolts show! You all make me sick to lead you sorry sacks. I have half a mind to cancel your vacation and haul all of you back to the training ground after today.”
“Come on, Spits, don’t do that!” Soarin cried.
“I’d like to see my home sometime this month,” another voice came from the crowd.
Spitfire sighed. With a flick of her hoof, she said, “Fine. Get out of here and come back with a hundred and ten percent in a few weeks or I’m going to promote some reserves and you’ll all find your asses to the curb.”
While the rest of her team broke for their lockers, Rainbow crawled along the wall. Before long, she slipped out of the locker room unnoticed. Even after Spitfire just reamed her and the team out, Twilight’s voice still remained ever-present at the back of her mind. Her wings twitched with each replay of that single sentence, as though preparing to take off for home. But Rainbow never left the ground. Instead, she made her way through the winding halls of the Canterlot Stadium underbelly, completely on autopilot. Time lost meaning as her wings twitched and Twilight continued to repeat over and over until she tripped over something.
Rainbow shook her head and looked to her hooves, finding a barbell. Around her, weights, benches, machines, an entire gym—one used for training camps. She must have wandered around the entire stadium’s underbelly a few times before finding her way here. After a moment, she looked down to the barbell again and took a deep breath. A weak smile spread across her lips as she brushed the tip of her wing along the metal bar. For the first time since she and Twilight blew up at one another, a thought broke through the fog—a welcomed thought.
Working out will clear my mind. Just work out for a… —she ran her lower lip under her teeth— a few days or weeks and I’m sure Twilight will have forgotten about the whole thing.
Rainbow winced when her heart squeezed tight. “Just work out and never deal with your problems…” she muttered to no one. “Like you always do.” Eyes closed, she kicked the ground with her back leg. “I’m such a damn coward.”
Autopilot took hold once more, this time she lay on the bench and hoisted the barbell above her head with her wings. Down it dropped until it almost bumped her chest and then she pushed it back up. The again and again. Numbers didn’t come to mind—why count when all she wanted was to feel the burn in her muscles. Any pain to pull her mind away from Twilight.
Some Element of Loyalty I turned out to be. Hell with that, some wife turned out to be! Can’t even be there for my family. If it’s a monster or my friends are in trouble, sure. Be there without even batting an eye, but once it’s about me? Rainbow clenched her jaw. Searing pain surged through her wings with every pump of the bell. The weight didn’t matter, nor the reps. Just that it hurt.
Sun’s sake, it’s just like with Dad all over again. Can’t ever tell her how I really feel unless I blow up and then run off like a scared little filly. Her vision grew blurry. The question why it blurry briefly crossed her mind, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the pain.
Suddenly a wet streak rolled down her cheek. Rainbow stopped, holding the weight in place at its apex. For the love of—I’m crying? Really? I’m so damn pathetic! Of course, I’m never there for them because I’m too busy running away and crying! Light’s going to hate me when she grows up because I’m just like my stupid father!
Rainbow pumped the weight hard, thrusting it up faster after she pulled it in. No pauses between pumps, she pushed forward, her wings stinging in agony. But that’s all that mattered. And instead of telling them any of this, you’re here at this stupid gym lifting a stupid weight, because you’re so stupid! It’s not like she’s right! Another kid’s not going to fix the problem, even if she wants one!
With one more thrust, Rainbow loosed a primal scream as her muscles screamed in searing white agony. Family isn’t as easy as I made it sound but it’s not like Twilight’s thinking straight! How the hell can we have another kid when we can’t even protect the one we have! Once she reached the apex of her rep, her wings quivered. Pain surged from the tips of her feather down into her back. A kid’s not the issue at all! Damn it! We’re both wrong so why can’t we just admit that!
“Crash?” a voice called from the doorway. “What are you still doing here? I thought you left hours ago.”
As soon as the words hit her ears, Rainbow sucked in a lungful of air and tossed the weight aside. No longer burdened, her wings fell flat, stretching out. Every muscle fiber sobbed in sweet relief. Still huffing and puffing, Rainbow turned her head to the doorway with still tear-soaked eyes to find a blurry yellow and orange blob standing there. Hoof to her eyes, she wiped away the watery haze to reveal Spitfire being the one who called out to her.
“You know, when I said I’d haul you all back for training, that was just me being a hardass. You don’t have to beat yourself up in here,” Spitfire said as she took a few steps into the gym. With a few glances, she realized they were alone and took a seat on the ground next to Rainbow. “You’re usually the first to bail after training or shows to get home to your family. So when you dipped out, I thought you just left.”
Spitfire chuckled. But sticking around after today, makes me think you’ve got a better work ethic than I thought.” She shrugged after a second. “At least better than you’ve had lately.”
At the mention of family, Rainbow clenched her jaw and looked away. “Yeah, thought I’d maybe go back with you—spend a few days at the training grounds to brush up. I was pretty sloppy out there,” she said through her clenched teeth.
Her heart clenched once more in her chest. Stupid! Don’t go to train! You need to go home and sort this out! You remember what Twilight told you a while ago, you can’t keep doing this!
“Not that I mind if you come, but I can’t babysit you with personal training, Crash. I’ve got my own stuff to do at HQ, like paperwork, event organization, training schedules, meal plans, trainee evals—not to mention my own training.” Spitfire looked around the gym once more before turning her sights back to Rainbow. The bloodshot eyes and wet, matted fur on her cheeks were a clear sign, but the aversion was the dead giveaway. After a few seconds, she nodded and took a deep breath. “So, Dash , I’m guessing the sloppy performance today wasn’t from slacking.” She scratched the back of her head and rolled her eyes. “I mean, I know it wasn’t. I lead the team, so know what your half-assed looks like. It’s better than some ponies’ hundred percent, so this isn’t just being lazy.” After a short pause, Spitfire cleared her throat. “So, uh, you want to talk about it?”
“Not really,” Rainbow slat out, rolling her lip under her teeth once more.
“Alright,” Spitfire stood up. “Good talk. See you after the break, Dash.” A small smile of relief brushed across her face momentarily as she turned for the door, but she didn’t get far. A hoof on her shoulder pulled her back down to her haunches and Spitfire frowned.
“Damn it, yes.” Rainbow rolled her eyes. “I do want to talk about it, I’m just crap at it.”
“Yeah, it’s a pretty common theme on the team.” Spitfire nodded, circling around to face the other mare with pinched eyes.
Rainbow sat up to her haunches. As she tucked her still-stinging wings behind her back a burn resonated through her muscles causing her to take a steady breath. “Spitfire, you’re one of the only ponies I know who seems to have her life together. I need some advice. A few weeks back, Twilight dropped the bombshell on me that wants to have another kid.”
Spitfire nodded.
“I’m never around for the one we already have as it is since I have to fly to and from HQ every day during the training season or I just sleep there and not at home. Not to mention we’ve both got our fair share of ponies we’ve pissed off and that’s a whole other mess that sprung up on us today—right in front of our daughter too.”
“Yeah?”
The room fell silent with Rainbow staring at Spitfire. She honestly expected more than a “yeah.” After it was clear she wasn’t getting more, she continued. “What do you think I should do about that?”
Spitfire took a deep breath. “About what? That’s not a thing you can do something about.
Rainbow’s ears fell flat with her eyelids. “I see what you meant about being crap at talking was a theme on the team.”
“Look, Dash, you’re a good flier. You’re a good pony.” She paused for a moment before nodding as she said, “You’re probably a good parent and wife too, but that’s a little outside my area of expertise. But I’ll tell you what I do know. I know my team. I know that of the ponies on the ‘Bolts right now, you’re the only one who’s married and also the one with the most absences.”
Rainbow rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t asking for stats, Spitfire…”
“You think those two ‘stats’ are unrelated?” Spitfire raised an eyebrow. “Were you listening in the locker room after the show? Ponies wanted to go home so they could actually see their homes. You live in a castle offsite, but the rest of the team lives at the HQ during the on season.”
After a moment, Rainbow furrowed her brow. “So…”
“So none of them have kids and they spend most of their time at HQ training. What I’m saying, Dash, is that being a Wonderbolt takes a lot of time. It’s not a job, it’s a life.”
“So what?” Rainbow asked, tapping her chin. “You don’t have anypony Spitfire?”
She shrugged. “Never felt like it. I’m kinda married to my job. Love what I do and don’t have time for anypony else besides the team.”
With that, Rainbow blinked rapidly then pinched her eyes shut. “I don’t think I like what you’re getting at. Being a Wonderbolt has been my dream for…” She ran her hoof through her mane. “Forever! I don’t want to give up on it!”
“I’m not saying give up on it, Dash, but prioritize. It looks like you’ve got other priorities besides being a Wonderbolt. Since you’re asking me, I’ll tell you what I’d do. The ponies of Equestria have a whole team of Wonderbolts and you’re going down in history as one of its finest members already. Legacy secured there. Your kid and wife, though? They’ve only got one of you. So I think you should give your rugrat somepony to look up to.”
“I can’t just—” Rainbow cut herself off with a shudder through her whole body “—I can’t just quit on my dream.”
Spitfire laughed, giving Rainbow a hard slap on the shoulder as she did. “You don’t have to quit right now. I mean, we could just bump you back to the reserves until you’re ready for full-time again. We’re off for a few weeks and we’ve got training for a few weeks after that. Why don’t you take some time off and think about it? That’s all I’m saying.” Spitfire turned away again and started for the door. When she reached it, she looked back over her shoulder and laughed again. “You’ve got a good thing going at home, Dash, I’m just saying don’t feel like you have to be here over the other things that are important to you.”
Rainbow looked to the ground for a second and then to her own hoof. She stared deep into her frog and let out a sigh. “Thanks, Spitfire. I take it back, you’re not so crap at this after all.”
“It’s part of the job,” she said with a smirk.
Rainbow leapt up from the bench and moved to the door. “I have to go talk to my wife.”
“Good choice.”
