Happiness Under Gray Skies
...are my sunshine... only sunshine...
...when skies are gray...
...never know dear...
...much I love you...
...don't take my sunshine away.
Twilight Sparkle paused in the hall, one hoof poised off the ground. It was her first night in the castle, and she'd just gotten up to find the little filly's room. Now she was... on an adventure! Certainly not lost. Being lost was scary, and big fillies didn't get scared.
But she hadn't expected to hear the sound of somepony singing to themselves. Certainly not in the middle of the night, down a dusty corridor where she'd gotten lo—had an adventure.
Whoever it was, they were singing quietly enough that she could only make out half the words. She crept closer to the sound, the thick rug muffling her hoofsteps, until she came to a door that was hanging ajar. She peered up along the doorframe, and found no nameplate—this wasn't an office, or a meeting room. Given the state of the dusty hall behind her, and the lack of adornments on the door, this was probably nothing more than a disused storage room.
So why would somepony be singing in it?
Clearly, this called for further investigation. She pushed the door open further, and crept inside.
Boxes.
Piled high, right up to the ceiling, there was nothing but a solid wall of boxes. But whoever was singing had to be in here somewhere. Unless the boxes were singing...?
No, that was ridiculous. She looked around, searching for some kind of pathway through the boxes. There! At the far right edge of the room, there was a narrow gap between the box-wall and the actual-wall. She crept forward, careful to walk heel-to-toe to be quiet, like Shiny had taught her. She rounded the corner, and made her way down the narrow alley between the wall of boxes on her left, and the wall of the storage room to her right.
As she approached the end of the makeshift passage, the singing grew louder. She held her breath, and slowly peered out into a small space at the back of the room.
She gasped. "Princess Celestia?!"
The solar monarch's head whipped around, eyes wide. "Twilight?" she gasped. She quickly scrubbed a foreleg across her eyes, but not quickly enough that Twilight missed the tear tracks running down her face. "What are you doing out of bed at this hour?"
"I was looking for the bathroom," she said. "Are you okay? What are you doing in here?" She moved forward, looking around the little open space more closely.
It was just large enough for Celestia to lay down—which she had—in front of an elaborate blue-and-purple mirror upon a pedestal, with a frame shaped like an elongated horseshoe. A narrow shaft of moonlight from a small window high on the far wall painted a luminous rectangle upon the ground next to Celestia.
Celestia spent a moment looking at Twilight searchingly before she smiled and raised a wing, beckoning. "Come here, Twilight."
Uncertainty sidelined for the moment, Twilight eagerly scampered forward and burrowed against the alicorn's side. Celestia's wing came down and pulled her close, and Twilight gave a happy little sigh.
"I was remembering someone very dear to me," she said, turning so that she was giving Twilight her full attention, "who I had lost. I used to sing that song to her when she was young, and couldn't sleep."
"Could you... sing it for me?"
Celestia frowned, opened her mouth to speak, and paused. She turned to the mirror and spent a moment considering. Finally, she nodded. "Certainly, Twilight." She closed her eyes.
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine...
Twilight stood outside the throne room door, fighting the urge to fidget, and trying to keep her wings still. The darned things kept wanting to fluff up. It was a purely instinctual part of the fight-or-flight response, in an attempt to make her look larger and more intimidating and it was not helping!
Breathe in, hoof to the chest, breathe out, push away the stress.
Okay.
She laid a hoof on shoulder of the yellow-coated unicorn in front of her, and tried to project princessly serenity, the way that Celestia always seemed to do so effortlessly.
"Sunset. I know that you're nervous, but Celestia misses you as much as you miss her. If you're willing to apologize for—"
"I am!" Sunset Shimmer blurted. She blushed, then continued at a more reasonable volume, "I am. I was... a terrible pony back when I left. At the very least, Celestia deserves an apology from me, face-to-face."
Twilight favored the unicorn with a genuine smile. "I'm sure it will work out. Would you like me to come inside with you?" She glanced at the closed doors again.
Sunset sucked in a breath and followed her gaze. "I think... I'd like you to walk me in, but after that, would you mind staying at the back of the room? I want to, uh, handle the rest myself."
Twilight bit her lip and nodded. "If you're sure." She turned to the door. "Ready?"
Sunset took a deep breath, then let it out. "Nope. No reason to let that stop me now, though."
After giving Sunset one more smile, Twilight turned and pushed doors open. She stepped just inside, then moved aside, and gave Sunset an encouraging smile.
Sunset followed closely behind and jumped as the heavy doors boomed shut behind her. She tried very hard not to mentally add the words with finality.
She looked down the long hall, and had eyes for neither the intricate stained-glass windows lining the walls, nor the richly decorated mural upon the far wall. Instead, her gaze was drawn to one thing, and one thing alone: the tall white alicorn seated upon the golden throne atop the dais at the end of the hall.
She gulped and started forward. She couldn't look at anything but Celestia, but couldn't bring herself to meet the princess's gaze. Instead, Sunset just stared at her hooves, and focused on keeping her pace steady and even.
Finally, she reached the foot of the dais and, gathering her courage, faced the princess of the sun.
Sunset found Celestia's expression virtually bare of emotion—there was distant curiosity, with perhaps the barest touch of uncertainty, but no more.
When it became apparent that Celestia was waiting for her to speak, Sunset took a deep breath, and began. "Princess Celestia. The last time we saw each other, I was your snide little pupil who betrayed and abandoned you." Unable to bear watching the princess's face any longer, she turned to the rug beneath her hooves. "And... I'm here to say that I'm s-sorry," she said, her voice breaking on the last word. "And I'd understand if you never wanted to see me again. So, before I go... I just want to say one last thing."
She took one more deep breath, opened her mouth, and sang...
"I was your sunshine, your only sunshine
I made you happy when skies were gray
I never saw, oh, how much you loved me
I'm so s—"
Her voice broke. She finished in a ragged whisper,
"S-so sorry I w-went away."
She stared down at the richly-embroidered rug beneath her hooves and tried to regain her composure. She was startled to hear the sound of hoofsteps from the throne above her, and backed up a step reflexively.
Celestia loomed over her, expression unchanged. She stared for a long moment, and Sunset gulped, as she realized with absolute certainty that she was about to be banished straight to the sun for her presumption.
Celestia's lower lip trembled. Then, it twisted. Finally, her entire expression crumpled, and she let out a gasping sob. "I thought I'd lost you," she managed to whisper before she gathered Sunset into both forelegs and wings and held her tight, as heaving sobs wracked her body.
Sunset stood frozen in shock before, with no more warning than a burning at the corners of her eyes, she found herself clutching at Celestia and bawling into her chest. "I'm... I'm... sss-sorreee-hee-hee-hee!" she gasped, clinging to Celestia like a drowning mare.
Finally, after all their tears had been shed, and they'd restored themselves to something resembling presentable, the two of them wiped their eyes one last time and gave each other watery smiles.
"Oh, Sunset. Of course I accept your apology. Can you forgive an old mare for being blind and foolish?"
"If you can forgive me for some of the things I said? The things I did?" Sunset said, breathing still unsteady, "Of course," she laughed.
Celestia smiled and let out a long sigh, and a weight seemed to slip from her shoulders. "Thank you." Then, looking uncharacteristically uncertain, she continued, "Would you... like to stay for lunch? I can have the kitchens make your favorite."
Sunset gasped. "Is Greasy Spoon still head chef?"
Celestia giggled. "He is. Shall we go request his stir-fry?"
"I'd love that," Sunset said, beaming.
Twilight joined the duo as they exited the throne room in search of lunch. Celestia shot her a brilliant smile. "And I think I have you to thank, Twilight, for bringing us back together. Was the lullaby your idea?"
"Not really," Twilight said, "I just mentioned that I'd heard you sing it once. The rest was all Sunset."
"Well," Celestia said, turning to Sunset, "it was an inspired choice. It was beautiful, if melancholy."
Sunset acknowledged Celestia's comment with a nod. "I was afraid it might be the last thing I ever said to you. I wanted it to be... honest."
The look Celestia gave Sunset was best described as complicated. Pride, grief, joy, pain, and relief, all mingled together. "It was, at that. I'm so grateful to have you in my life again." Then, her eyes shining, she added, "My sunshine."
Sunset's breath hitched, and she wiped away a stray tear.
It was good to feel whole again.
Author's Note
This story can be squarely blamed on MagnetBolt's The Witch of the Everfree. There's a scene where Sunset is feverish, alone, and far from a friendly face, and hallucinates (or does she?) Celestia singing her to sleep with You Are My Sunshine as a lullaby.
Combine that with my dissatisfaction with the way Forgotten Friendship handled Sunset and Celestia's reunion*, and this story popped out pretty much instantly.
* Don't get me wrong--I'm glad they did it. I just wish they'd done it better.
