Shedding Light on the Matter
Twilight Sparkle’s knees wobbled nervously, but she kept her ears pricked forwards forcefully. An attempt at an easy smile was on her face. Her wings itched with their newness. Shadows of Canterlot spires sliced up the inside of the carriage; each new one that cut by was a new flutter of butterflies in Twilight Sparkle’s stomach.
Tea with her princess was hardly uncommon, and far from her cause of nerves. Ponyville was another home to her, but any excuse to visit Princess Celestia was one she would take, and gladly. Her parents loved her visits too, of course, but it was always Princess Celestia who was her biggest drawback to Twilight Sparkle’s home city.
Her princess
There was no other way Twilight Sparkle could find to refer to the princess. Could really find, that is. ‘Princess’ always felt like it was as much of her name as ‘Celestia’ was, and yet Twilight still could only skirt around that name sometimes. Forget that she was an alicorn and not an Alicorn; calling the princess by her actual, technical name felt so wildly inappropriate that Twilight Sparkle might faint, which would certainly be no good! Not with everything else going on.
Even when she was nervously tap-tap-tapping her hooves together in the back of an elegant, guard-drawn carriage, Twilight Sparkle knew there was always time to sort. Yes, even when her sorting was through knotted emotions and an unclear mind, it always had to be done. It was inevitable, really, that on a day like this she would let her thoughts stray to princesses. She was a princess, but not the princess that the others were.
She lived in a tree and participated in municipal functions alongside the mayor when there were no hero-errands to be done for her princess, the mare of mares in Twilight Sparkle’s eyes. Cadance was the shining hope of an entire empire. A holiday encounter aside, and it could be safely said that she barely knew Princess Luna.
But Princess Celestia wasn’t like any of the others, except in the matters of taxonomy and shared blood she had with Princess Luna. The sun goddess lived in Twilight Sparkle’s heart as her princess for as long as Twilight Sparkle had known her, in one way or another.
…
Twilight Sparkle had little to no opinion on tea. If it was set out in front of her; she would always have it. Perhaps it was one of those things that her friends deemed a Canterlot habit, but tea was among the top drinks of leisure in Equestria, as The Encyclopedia of Punch Bowls and Pastimes had assured Twilight. She had no tea problem, at least not any more than most ponies did. Tea-drinking was polite, as Rarity would affirm, and it was doubly so when offered by the warmest, favorite hostess Twilight Sparkle could have.
She took a sudden sip from her cup and tried to pretend that her cheeks were not warmer. If she was blushing, perhaps the steam could hide it. But most likely, she probably-certainly-definitely was not blushing. After all, if Twilight Sparkle had been blushing, it would have been easy to hide. Princess Celestia was able to hide that she could drink piping hot tea without her daintiest, most hoity-toity guests fainting from witnessing the feat.
“Is there something on your mind, Twilight?”
Twilight gagged on her tea very discreetly. “N-Not at all, p-princess!”
Princess Celestia peered at Twilight Sparkle, her face a quiet mask and features smoothed of emotion. “I see. There has been no trouble in Ponyville, then?”
“None at all!” Twilight assured her, smiling widely and definitely not like anypony would when they were nervous.
“Ah-ha,” Princess Celestia murmured, stirring her own tea while her mane swirled calmly about her. They were just two beings of total tranquility right now. Sitting together. Having tea. As calm as could be. “So you have no news to share? About Ponyville?”
“No, princess.”
“...Or about Spike and your other friends?”
“No, all my friends are doing well, princess.”
Princess Celestia blinked. “And I’m sure that your studies are going well.”
That one wasn’t a question. It rarely was. Twilight Sparkle nodded. “Of course, Princess Celestia. They always are.”
Princess Celestia blinked again, and this time Twilight was sure it was out of being appreciative that Twilight was studying so hard and continuing to look into all the books about princesshood that Princess Celestia had sent her.
“And I trust that there is nothing about yourself that you need to tell me, my Faithful Student?”
Twilight knew it was the steam from her tea that was giving her a subtle inferno of a flush. “A-Actually,” Twilight began very, very carefully, keeping her voice smooth, “I did have a l-little something that crossed my mind.”
Princess Celestia paused, looking over Twilight Sparkle in her brief moment of silence. “You did, hm?”
“Y-Yes, princess,” Twilight whispered, forehooves wringing. “You see, I r-really wanted to tell you how much I l-like you.”
Her own smile grew exactly three times more nervous while Princess Celestia’s followed the tilt of her head.
“And I like you very much as well, my Faithful Student.”
The nervousness increased, this time by two levels according to Twilight Sparkle’s Nervous Smile Rating Scale. (She was still looking into getting that patented and her related papers published, but unfortunately, none of her friends were the best at the all-important peer-reviewing stage.)
“I… I don’t mean like that, princess. I mean I like-like you.” She tried to ease her smile into something less cramped, but it was no good. “That’s, erm, short for how I was originally going to say things.”
“Oh my,” murmured Princess Celestia, stirring some sugar into her tea. “Who dissuaded your original plans?”
“Spike,” Twilight Sparkle said, and immediately afterward felt she spoke too quickly. Her wings rustled with the sudden discontent. “Though, he didn’t mean to. He just didn’t like my essay detailing the extensive research process between confirming my, uh,” Twilight Sparkle swallowed, “bisexuality and its relation to you. I even had a dissertation prepared about every reason why you are indeed the most beautiful mare ever and Spike wouldn’t let me get past the forty-fourth page.”
Princess Celestia inhaled in such a way that Twilight Sparkle could hear the breath of her princess from where she sat. Then she watched the mechanical motions of Princess Celestia closing her mouth seamlessly and smoothly. There was the faintest pink color across her mentor’s muzzle.
“This is, ah, all so thoughtful of you, Twilight.”
Twilight Sparkle let out a squeak of acknowledgment. “T-Thank you so, so much, Princess Celestia! I put blood, sweat, and so much coffee into thinking about all the ways to quantify my love for you! I memorized the first sixty pages of my dissertation if you want to hear it, but I guess without the context of my other research this is a tea time we can only mourn as an ill-prepared confession…”
Twilight Sparkle sighed, and her ears drooped woefully. She did not raise her gaze even when her princess pushed the scone tray her way.
“Now, Twilight, we must always think positive-”
“Princess, you aren’t going to take anything off my final mark, are you? Am I still going to be getting marks now that I’m a princess? Or will there be none? Will that mean I won’t even get a rubric of what you look for in confession criteria?” Twilight began to nibble at her forehooves nervously. Her feathers stretched as exclamation points to her anxiety. “Do princesses still get marks, or are they special marks? Oh no, what if-”
“Twilight,” cautioned Princess Celestia.
“But princess, what if-”
“Twilight,” Princess Celestia said again, and more sternly.
Like a windup toy whose time to play had run out, Twilight stopped. She was suddenly statue-still as soon as the last syllable of the command of her princess was spoken.
“My Faithful Student, there will be time to discuss all your worries.” Princess Celestia gave Twilight the same, pacifying smile she had known in all their time together. Seeing that smile made Twilight’s last worries drain away. “But I have something that I, too, must confess. It has weighed upon my mind for some time, and I know that if I share this knowledge with you, our relationship will never be the same again.”
“Yes, princess?” she said dutifully. Twilight knew that nothing Princess Celestia ever did or said could be bad for her, and all the time she spent in Ponyville taught her to always be there to listen to others.
Two gold-clad forehooves folded themselves solemnly on the table. Princess Celestia’s mask of composure was still so perfect for a mare who hinted at such uncharacteristic nervousness. She looked at Twilight directly, her face light like dawn and serious as the grave:
“I am a flaming homosexual.”
Author's Note
This story is not affiliated with the recent feghoot contest.
