Twilight Takes Responsibility
I Have Some Simply Wonderful News
She shouldn't.
She really shouldn't.
There was an old, battered book lying open on the table, a bookmark lying across the page, half-obscuring a complexity of sigils, runes, and markings. Twilight Sparkle lingered nearby, constantly staring at it from the corner of her wide, sparkling eyes, arching her neck like a small, hungry animal that knows it isn't allowed to eat something but is about to do so anyway.
Late March was always a quiet time in the library, when all the ponies that turned to her collection to tide them through the winter months were swept up in the possibilities of a new spring. Very few seemed to appreciate that the return of sunny weather and the absence of snow meant that you could just read the books outside. Or keep reading them inside. In the bed. In the bath, but only if it was a cool bath, so the steam didn't damage the bindings, and you were very careful not to drop it. That was a slightly sinful pleasure, Twilight considered, and so rationed herself on it carefully. It was a shame that the other ponies in town didn't seem to love books the way she did.
In this, she was very slightly lying to herself, because while she loved to see ponies browsing her library, she also had the true librarian's instinct to keep all the books safe, organised, and in clean alphabetised rows. Having books lent out to others was a little niggling thread of anxiety at the back of her mind, always waiting for them to come back with cracked spines, or - horror of horrors - pages actually missing. Or covered in crayon.
Twilight had bitten a pencil in half the last time that happened. Nopony got obliterated by sheer raw magic wrenched from the celestial firmament, but it was a close-run thing. No; it was better for all her books to sit nice and safe in her warm and cosy tree house, where she could dust them, sing to them, and devise new ways to categorise and alphabetise them whenever they seemed fretful.
But the quiet did give her time to be tempted to do something she really, really knew she shouldn't.
There was a book of obscure spells in her collection. It had been a present. It held many interesting things. But the one thing that her gaze kept alighting on was a single page that described some sort of spell she'd never heard of before. It was definitely a transfiguration type; something that changed the caster. The exact effect wasn't clear, but it involved some kind of transposing of... male traits. Like - being tall! Increased muscle mass! Deeper voice! Those were the kind of things that Twilight was curious about.
Those were not the kind of things Twilight was curious about.
She'd never even seen one, outside of medical textbooks. Her cheeks flushed deep pink, she sidled a step closer to the table, as if she could sneak up on herself without noticing. Would it really be that bad just to - see what it was like?
Not that her interest was - was perverse. No, no. She took a step away from the table.
And two steps back towards it.
This was about scientific curiosity. Yes, that was right. She had a spell, and she didn't know exactly what it did, so she should test it. Carefully. Safely. When absolutely nopony was around.
Like now, for instance.
And if it did what she thought it might do, then she - she could make notes! Not that anypony could ever, ever see those notes. This was secret science.
Twilight looked up and away, staring at the ceiling. What a pretty pattern in the wood grain there was. Then her chest bumped into something, and she looked down with an expression of total surprise. Why, there was a spellbook open, right in front of her! With a spell right there! Maybe she should just cast it.
Twilight bit her lip, her tail swishing as her hind legs squirmed, then she cast a hurried glance at the door and began casting.
After all, it wasn't like anypony would ever know.
It was too bright. It was a flaring, searing, perfectly ordinary morning.
Twilight feebly waved a hoof in front of her face, groaning, "Nooo..." in the general direction of everything that ever was or ever would be. It wasn't that she was against the continued existence of all Equestria, but if it could possibly just - just go away for another few hours, then...
Memories shunted together like shiny little blocks in her head, forming a cute little train. It chugged through the delicately shameful landscape of her preparations to cast the spell from the book, paused, and then apologetically crashed into a sheer wall.
She'd cast the spell. And then...
Why was she in bed? What time was it? Squinting at the window, Twilight amended that to what day was it? Oh, Celestia, why was her body so sore?
Eyes half-closed against the hell-glare of the soft sunlight, Twilight tried to sit up. Her bedclothes were hopelessly rumpled and tangled around her legs, resulting in a humiliating struggle against the forces of her quilt which ended in, at best, a draw. "You'll pay for this," she muttered vaguely.
Her room was a mess. None of her furniture seemed to be quite where it should be, her lamp was knocked over - in fact, every flat surface seemed to have been carelessly bulldozed clear, flinging things everywhere. Were those fried radish takeaway boxes? Why were there socks everywhere? She hardly ever wore socks!
Limping out of bed, she levitated a few ornaments back into place, dragging a hoof through her hopelessly tangled mane in a doomed attempt to tame it a little. Nothing seemed to be broken at least.
Twilight surveyed the ruins of her fallen bedroom empire, sighed, and decided to let the barbarians have this one for now. Shuffling along the corridor into the bathroom, various bits of her body formally protesting the initiative, she huddled under the shower and flailed aimlessly with her front hooves until water started cascading from above.
Little by little, some of the aches eased. Soaping herself and rinsing her mane, Twilight checked herself over for injuries. Nothing seemed amiss, other than the general aches implying she'd fought a minor war without stopping to rest.
She was just squeezing water from her mane with a towel when, down below, she heard somepony knocking at the front door. "Spike, can you get that? ...Spike?"
No answer. No dragon. Exhaling, Twilight draped the towel over her back like an implausibly fluffy cape and tied it around her neck before trooping down the stairs. The main room down below was just as much of a mess as her bedroom, but there wasn't time to do anything about that. Lifting the latch with one hoof, she pulled it inwards. Cooler air washed over her, prompting a brief shiver.
"Why, hello... darling," Rarity cooed at her, stepping inside with the slow, deliberate movements of a mare on a catwalk. She wore an elaborate purple hat, resting delicately on her finely coiffed hair.
By comparison, Twilight felt like she'd stepped out of the pages of a cautionary tale about excess cider drinking. Levitating a comb to herself, she began straightening out her mane. "Um. Good morning, Rarity. This, this might not be the best-"
"Darling, darling. Really. You must let me," Rarity purred, her magic taking hold of the comb and beginning to run it down Twilight's mane in long, smooth strokes. The fashionista's eyes flickered over Twilight for a moment, then she shrugged slightly, and added, "I have some simply wonderful news, my darling, and I absolutely can't wait a moment longer to share it."
"Er. Good news? That is, um, good news. What is it?" Twilight sank onto the sofa, and picked up a cup, vaguely looking into it as though an explanation might be written on the inside.
Rarity reached over and clasped Twilight's face between both hooves, gazing brightly into her face. "Why, I am pregnant!"
There were a lot of potential answers to that announcement. Twilight's hindbrain sorted through them, classified them by various metrics, assessed, and selected a flat, "What." After a moment's shock, however, Twilight shook her head slightly and tried again. "I - I'm very happy to hear it! A foal is a big responsibility, but I'm sure you'd be an incredible mother."
Rarity blushed prettily. "You're so kind today. When do you think you can move in? Or shall we alternate? I know how much the library means to you."
The roaring of distant disaster swelled in Twilight's ears.
"Uh. Why...?" she heard herself ask.
Rarity blinked. "Why - you said that we would live together! We will have to take care of the foal, after all."
"I did." It was meant as a question, but the words came out like little lead bricks.
"Oh, yes." Rarity blushed more deeply, rubbing her cheek with one hoof, shyly looking aside from Twilight, then back at her from the corner of her eye. "You were so charming, and forceful, I could hardly believe it. And I would have never dreamed there were spells to give you one of those."
"One of those," Twilight echoed blankly.
Fanning herself, Rarity nodded. "My, my. It seems magic can work wonders I'd never dreamt of. Or - perhaps had dreamt of, but certainly never expected to happen. Those lean flanks of yours, thrusting..." She trailed off, with a far-off look in her eyes.
"Thrusting." It was hard to read emotion into Twilight's tone, but in her eyes was the haunted look of a pony watching as a bridge collapses into an implacable abyss, leaving them stranded forever.
"Mm, I should say so. Tirelessly."
Twilight took a deep breath. "Rarity, I've listened carefully to everything you've said, and I believe I understand. I've made up my mind."
"You have?" Rarity asked eagerly, leaning closer.
"I'll do my best," Twilight replied, a pleasant smile spreading across her lips, "to run away."
There was a brilliant purple flash. In the gap between seconds, Twilight snapped into existence in the uppermost branches of her treehouse, immediately clinging to the branch with all the desperate fervour of a lover. The towel streamed out from her back in the wind, buffeting and dancing, anchored by the loose knot around Twilight's neck.
"Hello, tree," Twilight greeted it pleasantly. "This isn't happening. You agree? I'm very glad you agree. What an agreeable tree."
"Uh, Twilight?" Rainbow Dash's scratchy voice sounded from overhead. "What're you doing?"
Twilight looked up. Rainbow's face was just visible, peering over the edge of a small cloud.
"I... am hiding. Yes."
Rainbow blinked. "You are? That's not like you. I mean, you're not some scaredy-cat. You're... cool." Her voice dropped a little on the last word, imbuing it with softer sincerity.
From below, the sound of Rarity calling Twilight's name came distantly. Fortunately, there was no reason for her to check the treetops. Unless, that is, she saw Rainbow Dash talking to someone there. That might give the game away a bit.
Relaxing her grip on the bark slightly, Twilight said quickly, "Rainbow, could you come down here please?"
Rainbow hesitated. "I mean... I could..."
"Right now! Please!" Twilight insisted.
"Well... yeah, sure." With a few beats of her wings, Rainbow flapped out from behind the cloud and descended to settle on the same tree branch.
She was wearing a skirt. A short skirt, but a skirt nonetheless. There was even a hint of inexpertly applied lipstick and eyeshadow on her face.
Twilight blinked. "You're wearing a dress? You never wear a dress! Rarity has to lever you into her creations with a crowbar!"
"Well... yeah," conceded Rainbow, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly with one hoof. Unable to meet Twilight's eyes, she went on, "I like feeling the wind with my whole body, y'know? But you said... you'd like it if I... dressed a bit more, like, cute for you."
Twilight couldn't persuade her legs to unclench from around the tree branch.
"And I wanted to make you happy. So, uh. There's - you should know-" Rainbow broke off, then looked up and tried, "How do you feel about naming a filly 'Rainbow Sparkle'?"
Twilight's grip went slack.
She fell out of the tree.
There was a confusion of leaves and branches, slapping her in the face and tearing at her towel, which ended quite abruptly with a mouthful of soil and a sudden stop.
"Owww," muttered Twilight indistinctly.
"Twilight? Is that you?" called Rarity's voice from somewhere behind her.
Twilight's hooves skidded against the earth, propelling her like an arrow straight through the bushes and between the trees beyond. She ran, panting like the model steam engine she'd built as a Hearth's Warming gift one year, and didn't stop until her hooves splashed into a stream. Then she ducked her head and drank deeply, the shock of the cold water slapping her back to something approaching sanity.
There was no way Rainbow had implied what she had seemed to imply. No way. Rarity must have told Rainbow first, and then Rainbow had been lurking about, hoping to get a foal named after her. That was the only possible explanation.
Fluttershy's house wasn't far from here, contributed a part of her brain that had so far been uninvolved in her desperate escape from parenthood. Twilight stopped to consider. Yes. Fluttershy. What Twilight really, really needed was somepony totally uninvolved in all of this - whatever this was - to talk to. Fluttershy would make some soothing tea, and talk soothingly, in her soft, soothing voice. There was, after all, no way that Fluttershy would be involved in anything that involved - well, lewdness.
Sucking in deep breaths, Twilight made her way up the stream, one eye watching warily above for any sign of Rainbow. Everything seemed quiet. There was no sign of life from the outside of Fluttershy's home.
"Fluttershy?" Twilight hissed, sidling up to the door. "Fluttershy!"
Nothing. Biting her lip, Twilight knocked twice, then again, a bit louder. Everything would be okay if she could just go inside, have some tea, and figure this whole thing out. "Fluttershy!" she called.
A dot moved in the sky. Twilight's head snapped around to track it. Was it coming closer? Was there a smear of rainbow trailing behind it! "Fluttershy, I need you right now!" she said urgently, looking back at the door.
Which was, in fact, now open. Fluttershy stood in the gap, her face crimson as she looked at Twilight, her knees quivering.
Then Fluttershy slammed the door again.
"What?" said Twilight weakly.
The door opened once more. Fluttershy shoved a book at Twilight with both hooves, then slammed the door closed yet again.
Hopelessly bewildered, Twilight looked down at the book she now reflexively held. Letters picked out in gold leaf read, 'Our Wedding Plan'.
Twilight grinned a terrible, rictus grin, and vanished in a flash of light. The book began to fall. Then she reappeared, caught the book, set it down neatly on the doorstep, and vanished again.
Running headlong back into Ponyville, Twilight tried to think. She was experiencing panic in the same way that a village beneath an overloaded dam is about to experience a problem with rising damp, and with the vast majority of her brain devoted to mindless flailing, there wasn't much left for anything else.
Ponies flashed past. Mayor Mare called out to her, rubbing her belly with one hoof meaningfully. Twilight ducked down an alley and emerged beside the Spa, only to reel away from Lotus and Aloe as they emerged hoof in hoof, and greeted her, "We are very prone to twins, you know." Golden Harvest winked and stroked a carrot suggestively between her hooves as Twilight barrelled between the stalls, slipping on flyers that littered the square.
"No, no, no," she panted, skidding around a corner, no longer sure where she was running to, but crystal clear on what she was running from. She was pretty sure she was saturated out on horror, but to her considerable surprise she suddenly found she was wrong as she nearly bumped into Apple Bloom and saw the adoring look in the filly's eyes.
Twilight's jaw dropped, and her legs suddenly lost coordination. Her ankles tangled, and she executed a beautiful somersault across the street, smashing to a stop upside down in the wreckage of a barrel.
"Gee, are you alright?" asked Apple Bloom, trotting closer.
She was going to jail! She was going to be locked up forever! Her imagination populating every shadow with bars and shackles closing in on her, Twilight begged, "Please tell me you're not pregnant!"
Apple Bloom looked at Twilight blankly, then broke into laughter. "Pregnant? Ah'm a filly! What sort of nonsense is all that?"
"Hahahaha," agreed Twilight earnestly, shuddering in relief. Flopping to the side, she began trying to untangle herself from the barrel hoop.
Apple Bloom bent to help. "You're such a kidder, big sis," she said cheerfully.
Twilight stopped. "Big sis?" she asked hoarsely.
"Well, yeah! You're Applejack's special somepony now, so that makes you mah other big sister. Ah sure am lookin' forward to having a 'lil niece or nephew! Ah won't be the youngest no more!" she chirruped.
A muscle by Twilight's eye twitched.
"We've been getting the Apple Family Initiation ready for y'all," Apple Bloom went on, then added with a lopsided grin, "It's tough, but you'll get through it. Ah sure hope you like apples!"
"Haha," agreed Twilight more shakily.
A new voice rang out from the end of the street. "Apple Bloom? Y'set eyes on Twilight today? Folk are telling me she's tryin' to skip town, and that plain won't do."
"You wouldn't," breathed Apple Bloom, then grabbed at Twilight's leg and yelled, "She's right here, sis!"
She would. She absolutely would. Twilight disappeared in a flash of purple light, reappearing halfway up the street, tattered towel flapping, barrel ring looped around her neck. Stumbling from the awkward pose she reappeared in, Twilight nearly tripped over her own hooves again, then careened down yet another alley. Jinking around old crates and down narrow passageways with hysterical agility, she found herself facing a dead end; a tottering stack of aged boxes piled on the collapsed framework of an old wagon. With no other option, she flattened herself against a wall and gasped for breath, hoping she'd thrown off her pursuers.
This was insane. How long had the spell lasted? What kind of charisma booster had been woven into it?
Her hoof scuffed something papery. It was another one of the flyers that littered the market square; the wind must have caught it. She reached down to pick it up, then caught herself. Tidying? Really? This was not the time to be picking up litter. This was the time to be not getting caught.
Apple Bloom rounded the corner and looked straight at her, her eyes widening. "Applejack!" she yelled.
She'd gotten caught.
Twilight twisted around, diving at the wall of boxes and derelict crates. There was just, just enough of a gap to see the street on the other side, but she'd gotten so turned around, she had no idea where she was anymore. On the other hand, anywhere was better than here! A shimmering flash, and she was on the other side of the impromptu barricade.
And directly outside Sugarcube Corner.
"Oh, hi Twilight!" Pinkie waved madly at her with one hoof, while stuffing an iced donut into her mouth. "How're you doing?"
...was it possible that Pinkie hadn't gotten caught up in all of this? That Pinkie was the only normal mare in town?
Those did not feel like good odds.
"Hiii... Pinkie," Twilight greeted her, sidling away from the blocked alley. Behind the crates, she heard muffled voices, but they'd have to find another way around. "What are... you up to?"
"Ohh, nothing! Just eating my donut!" Pinkie waved what was left in demonstration.
"Thank goodness. Everything's gone crazy! I woke up this morning and-"
"Oh! Oh! And I was wondering what she's gonna be like."
"We- you and I, we-"
"Oh, yeah," agreed Pinkie enthusiastically. "I didn't even know I could jiggle like that!"
"..." replied Twilight, nodding with a glassy smile.
"She's gonna be super studious, and pass all her exams, then party so hard she burns down the school! It's gonna be great."
"That is... that sure is... great," agreed Twilight, trying to think of anything, anything at all, that didn't involve the word 'jiggling'. "You should... stay there, and think about that some more."
"Okie dokey!" sang out Pinkie, and stuffed the rest of her donut into her mouth.
A sudden splintering crash boomed down the street, a heap of wooden wreckage slamming into the building opposite the alley. "Nice buckin', Applejack!" sang out the cheery, enthusiastic, hateful voice of Apple Bloom.
"Oooh!" exclaimed Pinkie, clapping her hooves together in excitement. "Did you see that, Twili-"
Twilight wasn't there. She was in fact inside Sugarcube Corner, flattened against the door, her eyes huge and desperate. Mr. Cake looked up from his counter, his mouth opening in surprise.
Wait, wait a second, managed the smouldering ruin of Twilight's once magnificent, pristine analytical centres. Mister Cake. No foal. No problem.
Safety.
"You have to help me!" she burst out. "I just, I just need somewhere to hide away from Applejack, and Rainbow's search party, and whatever Rarity is doing, and the Mayor, and - and, well, everypony really, until I think of what to do now. Okay?"
Mr. Cake leant on the counter, frowning. "You have some nerve showing your face in here, Twilight Sparkle. Do you have any idea how much it costs to raise a foal?"
Twilight's rear legs sagged, and she slid slowly down the door into a heap on the floor. "You're pregnant. Everypony in town is pregnant. I'm doomed. I'm doomed! This is how it ends. This is how it ends? This is how it ends."
"I'm not pregnant, Twiight!" he cut her off.
"...you're not?" Twilight asked slowly. "You're not. That's good. That's really, really good. Oh, thank Celestia, you're not pregnant." Picking herself up from the floor, she crossed the room on wobbly legs and grabbed his hoof with two of hers, telling him with manic, crazed earnestness, "Don't get pregnant, Mr. Cake."
"I'm not pregnant. Stallions don't get pregnant." He paused, as Twilight nodded along blissfully, then finished sharply, "Mrs. Cake is."
Twilight looked into his baleful stare, slowly wilting. "...oh. I see. I see the problem."
"Good. So what are you going to do about it?" he demanded. "Rearing a foal isn't cheap!"
"Well - good point, very good point - the thing is, the thing that I'm going to do is-" she exhaled. "Yes, I'm definitely going to run away again."
"Don't you even think about it!"
Opening the door would have taken too long. She exploded it, crashing out into the street in a hail of wood, fire and raw magic, and slammed into the cobbles.
"There she is! Get the apple rammer!" cried a distinctive, strongly accented voice.
"Bye, Twilight!" Pinkie called out as a series of increasingly sloppy bursts of purple light hopscotched down the street.
"I don't-" Twilight panted, "-want to learn-" she flashed into existence on top of a house and began bouncing from roof to roof in perilously unsafe teleport jumps, "-what that is!"
She just needed some time! Time to figure out what to do! Time to make a proper escape plan! Just - more time!
...time to undo what she'd done!
Yes!
She didn't have any books on time-travel magic - it was too dangerous - but there were several in the Royal Canterlot Library. Which also had the amazing advantage that it was in Canterlot, which was far, far away from Ponyville. All of this could just - have never, ever happened. Altering the timeline was considered unethical as well as deeply dangerous by all the authorities on the subject, but the authorities on the subject hadn't knocked up four fifths of Ponyville.
And they weren't in imminent danger of learning what an apple rammer was!
The train for Canterlot wasn't due to depart for a little while. Twilight spent that time skulking in a box, occasionally peering out at the search parties. With minutes to go, and after the train had been searched, she dashed up to the side of it, checked the cabin on the other side was empty, and teleported within.
Come on, come on, she silently urged as she pulled a blanket off the folding bunk, wrapped it around herself and crawled delicately into the luggage rack like the world's most incompetently camouflaged caterpillar.
Chuff
Yes!
Chuff
Please!
Chuff chuff chuff chuff chuffchuffchffchffchff-
Twilight went limp with relief, wriggling to the back of the narrow rack. It was okay, now. It was all okay. She could fix this, and nopony would ever have to know. She was utterly exhausted from all of the running and the magic she'd thrown around, and as the train rocked her back and forth, she slipped into an exhausted daze.
The word 'thrusting' kept elbowing its way back into her mind, with 'jiggling' a close second.
They brought pictures with them.
"No. None of that. I didn't - that wasn't me, and I don't remember it."
A pause.
"I absolutely don't even want to remember it."
The train plunged into a tunnel.
"Not even a little bit."
They emerged into the light. Then plunged into another tunnel.
"I'm not thinking about it!"
Light. Tunnel.
"I'm not picturing it!"
Light. Tunnel. Light. Tunnel.
"Yes, yes, I get it!" Twilight yelled at the train, in a sudden burst of exasperation. "It's a metaphor!"
Confused voices sounded in the corridor.
"...I'm a blanket," Twilight whispered earnestly, and pulled her head back into concealment.
She must have slept. The next thing she knew, the train was stationary, and there were voices out in the corridor.
The first one was unfamiliar. "I'm sorry, Ma'am, but there's no pony left on the train. I've checked all the compartments; if your friend was on here, she must have gotten off at an earlier stop."
The second one... was not unfamiliar. "She is here! Trixie is sure of it! Twilight Sparkle always goes running to Celestia whenever she doesn't know what to do! Check again!"
"But, really Ma'am-"
Twilight wriggled off the luggage rack, and hit the floor with a thud.
"...what was that?"
Uncurling the blanket, Twilight stood up and brushed herself off. Calmly, and rationally, she said to herself, "No. No way. I refuse. I resign. I'm not playing anymore." Pushing the door open, she stepped out into the corridor. "Hello."
Trixie reared up, pointing a hoof at her in shock. "You!"
"Yes, that's right. I hope you had a nice train ride." Twilight turned a smile on the maid, added, "I'll pay for a ticket later," and threw herself into a full-pelt gallop down the corridor in the opposite direction.
"Stop! The Great and Pregnant Trixie demands that you stop!"
"I'd rather take my chances with the apple rammer!"
The door out of the carriage was locked. Fortunately, Twilight knew a great many lock-picking spells of surpassing delicacy and intricacy.
Twilight blew the side of the carriage off.
"Sorry! Sorry! Don't worry, it won't have happened soon!" she sang out manically, her hooves skidding on the cobbles. "Excuse me, excuse me, coming through, excuse me-"
She slammed into what felt a lot like a wall, which said in a deep, resonant voice, "Nnnnope."
Twilight looked up. And further up. "Oh. Uh. Hi, Big Mac. So, Applejack." She paused, then added, "Cheerilee too?"
"Ayyup."
"...okay, look, I can explain through the medium of running away."
Twilight threw herself into a full-body slide, passing under his mighty legs and out the other side, then ran as though all the demons of Tartarus were demanding foal support behind her.
There were further generic screeches of protest behind her, but the important thing was that they were behind her, and the castle was in front of her, and that was where the library was.
She'd never run so fast or far in all her life.
This is great exercise. Maybe I should do this more often, she thought deliriously, as the breath sawed in and out of her chest. Screw the whole town once a year and run a marathon to Canterlot to undo it all, how about it?
She pounded down another street, wheezing.
Only if, next time, I get to remember it afterwards, she decided.
The guards at the castle gate weren't ones she knew. Staggering to a halt, she panted, "Hello, my name is Twilight Sparkle. I'm Princess Celestia's student. I'm here to visit the library."
"You are expected. Pass, Twilight Sparkle," one of them declared sonorously, stepping aside.
That, Twilight concluded, wasn't good.
She went in anyway.
Okay. The message that she'd arrived would be making its way up the castle hierarchy to Princess Celestia, but that would take time. Time enough to trot - not sprint, not gallop - down the corridors to the library. She knew those shelves well enough to teleport blindly. She could make it.
No pony obstructed her. She hurried into the library vault, then - as she was well practised at doing - simply flashed out of existence and reappeared in the restricted section.
Celestia closed the book floating before her with a snap. "Hello, Twilight."
Twilight's mouth opened, then closed again. "You've got the book," she said, her eyes seemingly having wired themselves directly to her mouth now that her brain had shut down.
"I do, yes," agreed Celestia. "You should know that Luna is seeking you."
"...she is?" Twilight asked mildly, with a barely perceptible wince of traumatised horror.
Celestia gestured with her horn, and the library's sound-dampening charm shimmered across the walls as it was suppressed. From somewhere in the distance, but coming closer, the unmistakable, bone-shuddering reverb of the Royal Canterlot Voice sounded.
"She is, yes," Celestia concluded.
"Could I... have that book please?" Twilight asked in a small voice, a wobbly grin of panicked eagerness shaping her lips.
"I'm afraid not. There has been quite enough meddling with the time stream already. It simply wouldn't be safe."
"Is there... nothing I could say to change your mind?" Twilight managed, with a heroic act of self-restraint that made raising the Sun and Moon look like very small beer in comparison.
"I don't believe there is. Nothing that you could say, no." Celestia's eyes were hooded, suddenly smouldering invitingly.
"Hahah. I, I see. Princess, can I ask you another question?"
"Yes, Twilight?"
"Would you happen, by some really strange coincidence, to be pregnant right now?"
Celestia's brows raised slightly. "Twilight, really. After the way you pounded me, I could hardly be otherwise."
"Oh." Twilight looked Celestia over, then at the book, then back at Celestia. "Oh. Right."
"I think you could use a period of quiet contemplation to reflect, somewhere you won't be disturbed. I'm sure I can think of somewhere. Guards?"
As if by magic, but not actually by magic, several armoured ponies stepped out from behind the stacks.
Twilight was already gone, leaving a small, fading shimmer in the air.
"Maybe she was going to send me to the moon! That could have been nice," Twilight panted raggedly, as she hurtled aimlessly down another corridor. Running had yet to solve any of her problems, but it had successfully postponed lots of them, and that was good enough!
"Twilight, quickly! Over here!"
That voice was so familiar, it was unfamiliar again. Twilight screeched to a stop, her hooves digging into the carpet and forcing it up into messy rucks.
Twilight Sparkle - not her, but a different Twilight Sparkle - leaned out of a nearly doorway and beckoned urgently with her hoof. "Quick! Quick! This room is shielded!"
"...okay," concluded whatever was left of Twilight, and she ambled aimlessly into the room as directed. The door closed behind her, and a shimmer of magic crawled over it.
Her doppelganger was wearing little spectacles. Levitating them, the other Twilight produced a cloth and polished them. "You haven't got the book yet, right?"
"I... no. I haven't."
"Don't worry, you do get it again. It takes... a while, though," concluded the other Twilight. "I'm from the future of your timestream. I've come back to offer you a way out of this mess."
Twilight sagged, her head dropping. "Oh, thank Celestia."
"You know, you're really got to learn to stop saying that."
"...I, yes. I suppose so. Thank you. Do you have the book with you?"
"Not here. You'll have to come and get it. There's just one thing you have to do first."
Twilight lifted her head. "What's that?"
There was a moment of pure, crystal-clear realisation as Twilight looked into her future self's face, and saw the deep, heavy blush on her cheeks.
"After what you just did to me? I came back for one reason only," future Twilight breathed huskily. Turning, she hunched down a little and flicked up her tail, presenting her haunches. "You're the one that time-jumped first, so take responsibility for your actions. Do me again."
"...oh. Thank you, that makes things a lot clearer," said Twilight with a kind of drifting, vague amiability. "Please excuse me."
The door unlatched without resistance. The spiral steps weren't too far away. Twilight descended them with a happy little skip in her step, found the deepest, darkest cell in the dungeon, stepped in, and shut the door behind herself. The lock thunked closed as the magic engaged.
A small, reading-light sized glow flared in the darkness. "Hello again, Twilight," Celestia remarked mildly.
Twilight giggled hysterically. "Hi! You wanna go first? We're gonna have such a population boom! We're gonna have problems with genetics! Woo!"
"Do you know what yesterday was, Twilight?"
"Twilight bangs the whole village day? We could make it an annual celebration, how about it?"
"It was March the thirty-first."
It took Twilight a second to process this new information.
"...no."
"Which makes today...?"
"I will pull down your castles. I will burn your thrones to ash."
"That would be something of an overreaction."
"No it wouldn't! You're - you're not pregnant?" Twilight half-pleaded, half-giggled.
"I'm not, no. Alicorns are notoriously hard to impregnate."
"You - you're just-" Twilight spluttered.
"So that only leaves the adult mare population of Ponyville."
The colour drained from Twilight's face. "But-"
"None of whom are pregnant either, or at least, not pregnant thanks to you."
Twilight drew herself up formally. There was still a good quantity of hysteria to her, but this was hysteria combing its mane and putting on a nice shirt. "Have I impregnated any pony, griffon, dragon or other creature that you know of? I want to be really specific here, Princess. Really. Specific."
"If you take away all my loopholes, how am I meant to amuse myself?" sighed Celestia winsomely. "No. You haven't."
"But - how? How did you get the whole town to go along with it? And why? No, actually - how. Stick to how."
"Enchanted paper," replied Celestia with a shrug.
"...what?"
"The town was competing to be the most convincing. There will be a small prize for the winner, who I will judge."
"And - the enchantment?"
"A dilute want-it-need-it, on the image of the prize. It made the townsfolk highly motivated. And an inverse, targeted at you. You do not want or need the fliers at all. It would spoil the whole thing if you read one."
Twilight blinked. "That's possible? That's fascinating! I didn't know you could do anything like that! You have to teach me - no, no, wait." She took a breath. "I'm still mad, and you can't bribe me with magic spells I've never seen before."
"I absolutely can," observed Celestia.
"...you can," admitted Twilight.
"I thought you might like to see a copy of the flier that hasn't been enspelled." From the pile of hay she sat on, Celestia extracted a rolled piece of cheap paper and handed it to Twilight.
Twilight read it. Then read it again.
"The prize is a statuette of me pulling my mane out," she said eventually.
"It's very realistic."
"You had someone sculpt this?"
"I actually held a small competition between several artists."
"You're right. It's very realistic."
"Do you approve of the competition criteria?" Celestia asked mildly.
"'Best despair face' is weighted highly."
"I intended a photographer to follow you. He did his best, but you do move surprisingly fast."
"Authenticity. Persuasiveness. Oh, and I see just 'breaking Twilight' earns a bonus score."
"It's going to be very hard to judge the winner."
Twilight laid the scroll aside. "You know, I really thought I was going to have to marry... I don't know! Fluttershy, and Rarity, and whatever all that was about with Applejack, and - and half the town!"
"No, no, Twilight. I wouldn't have let you marry anypony in Ponyville, and if the joke had gone that far, I would have had to stop it. It would be against the law, after all."
Twilight blinked. "It would? But getting married isn't against the law."
Celestia smiled sweetly. "There is one circumstance when it is, as a matter of fact."
From behind Twilight came the complex thud-clunk of the lock disengaging. Metal shod hooves settled on her shoulders and gripped firmly. Luna's voice was soft and low in her ear.
"I have found thee at last... husband."
Author's Note
Yesterday, I had to travel the length of the UK via plane, train, bus and automobile. Took from six thirty in the morning to nine at night. In the process, I wrote this.
So, uh. Blame inefficient public transport.
Proofed by JustTheBast, Equimorto and DbzOrDie!
"How did you get my future self to cooperate with all this? She's me," Twilight objected.
"Sooner or later, you will look back and find this funny. I'm sure you can imagine wanting to see the look on your face."
"...I guess that makes sense," allowed Twilight with a sigh, nodding slowly.
"And she wasn't actually lying."
"...oh."
"So you've got that to look forward to."
