We Have No Mouths, and We Must Confess

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Written by: Oneimare

Preread and edited by: Typoglyphic

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This story is an overdue gift to my dear friend, who never fails to make my days bright.

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Act 3 Part 1

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Heavy snowfall on such a day meant the songs would be louder, the embraces warmer.

Only a comforter hugged Twilight as she stared out of the window, only the especially loud fragments of celebration flicked her ears. Her somber eyes followed the large snowflakes lazily drifting through the frigid air, in truth barely registering them for what they were.

Despite the castle walls impenetrable to cold, she wrapped the comforter tighter, for her mind was outside, searching for Starlight in a cold not unlike right now.

Twilight scoured the darkness-flooded town inch by inch, the beats of her aching heart counting the excruciating moments into agonizing hours; the beats of her burning wings—a rhythm to a song of pain and exhaustion.

The search, however futile it proved to be in the end, could have reached its conclusion sooner if only she had been accompanied by at least the moon. It wasn’t the shame deterring her from asking help, but the sharp sense of justice—it was her fault and there was no one other than her to pay for it.

When she ultimately not quite landed but fell from the paling sky, her eyes searched for the light of stars and could find none—gone without a trace. No tears rolled down her cheeks to dew the withered grass; the cruel wind, her unwilling follower that night, stole any she had long ago.

Like that Rarity found her—neither a corpse nor living being sprawled on rigid earth: a fallen angel. She approached Twilight without a sound, bloodshot purple eyes meeting sapphire making air around feel warm. Then her expression softened, albeit, not completely.

Rarity’s quiet voice was barely above a whisper, it rang through the still morning, nevertheless, “She’s staying at my place.”

All life left Twilight’s limbs, and she spent long seconds simply breathing, her eyes closed, leaking newfound moisture.

“Please, tell her I take my words back.”

A measured nod was her only answer.

In a sudden flare of anger, Twilight shrugged away the woollen blanket—the memory stayed like a thorn lodged deep. Uneven steps carried her to the doors and she hurried to wipe the frown from her muzzle, perk her ears up—she was a princess.

She didn’t truly know why the frown was there; even if the holiday wasn’t enough, there was at least one more reason to smile.

Today would be the first time Starlight returned to the castle.

It was easy for Starlight to make a decision to finally pay a visit to the Castle of Friendship; not because of her scant yet still valuable possessions. Over time the umbrage had faded away, replaced by fear that ultimately ceded to longing.

The castle greeted her with a robust celebration, the usually dark and silent halls filled to the brim with glow and laughter. Although the holiday spirit failed to claim her heart, she no longer stalked the crystal-paned passages, the destination clear in her mind—the library.

Yet when she saw the wide and false smile trying to overshadow eyes full of pain, a coursed gaze evading hers the last moment… she couldn’t help but turn away; only the overly polite plea stopped her from leaving.

Twilight’s voice as sweet as ever, every hint of woe gone from it as she became gradually immersed into the story she almost sang. And it was ignored. Although Starlight’s eyes intently studied the face of the mare before her, it wasn’t where her attention belonged either.

Her teacher still wore a mask and the glimpses of enigma beneath disturbed Starlight beyond measure—she suffered. Was it because she was absent for so long, or because she’d returned? Should she stay or leave?

By the time the story was finished, it wasn’t hard for her to not look back when she walked out of the castle, the riddles she asked of herself unanswered.

Starlight raised her eyes to the overcast sky as if it could know; it replied by peppering her dismayed visage with snow.

All of sudden the swollen grey clouds were replaced by a polychromatic mane and a pair of magenta eyes.

“Yo.” Rainbow Dash sounded more annoyed than concerned. “What are you doing alone in this cold?”

A trademark drawl joined her, “Heya, Starlight.”

Looking around, she saw nopony else, yet the present company still unnerved her—what would those two be doing here instead of joining the big party at Twilight’s place? Nor she couldn’t decide if Applejack glared at her or it was merely a shadow cast by the wide brim on the famous hat. Something told Starlight giving any answer but honest would be a bad idea.

“I guess saying now I’m out for a walk would be lame.” She let out a half-hearted laugh.

The pegasus hovering in the air, her expression increasingly impatient, instantly grumbled, “Everything you say is lame.”

“Rainbow!” Applejack tried to catch the young Wonderbolt by the tail, but she lived up to her name. Undiscouraged, she smirked, “Don’t mind her, she just landed on her noggin’ too many times.”

“Hey!”

Ignoring her friend, Applejack continued, “If ya not heading anywhere important, why dontcha come with us?”

Starlight eyed them cautiously. “And you are going to…?”

“Sweet Apple Acres. Gonna have an adult Hearth’s Warming,” Rainbow readily and enthusiastically supplemented.

“Adult,” Starlight deadpanned.

“Ya know,” Applejack chuckled, “with something stronger than eggnog, and a nice laugh about things we don’t discuss with fillies and colts around.”

“More like with something strongest in the town, and listening to Granny Smith’s tales about her love life from when she was young...”

“That was one time!” With an indignant growl, AJ again tried to bring the pegasus from the sky, and as the deep snow rendered her attempt futile, she returned to Starlight. “So, you coming?”

With an almost deafening crash, Rainbow dashed into the barn wall and it shuddered ominously. She half-bounced back, half-slid into the pile of hay at the floor, disappearing from the sight.

It didn’t seem anypony bothered to even blink.

Starlight nudged Applejack with her elbow, distracting her from a conversation with Bon Bon. “Is she going to be okay?”

“Yep, will be back in ‘bout half ‘n hour.” She eyed the haystack as it snored. “Maybe.” Turning back to the beige mare, she found her already walking away, Lyra by her side. She shrugged and took a hearty sip from her mug. “Them pegasi horrible drinkers, I’m tellin’ ya.”

Starlight waited, expecting Applejack to either leave her or for somepony to take the empty seat. However, it remained unoccupied and AJ seemed to be content with her silent company. More time had passed, this time Starlight took it for herself, mustering the courage to risk the fragile peace.

“Thank you, Applejack.”

“No need, Starlight,” Aj replied with a guffaw, completely missing the quiet and serious tone. “It’s a holiday, everything’s on the house—family tradition.” As to prove her words, she moved a bowl with dried apples closer to her guest. A cyan magic aura took a few slices, depositing them near a mug with cider, to be equally untouched.

“I mean, for inviting me. I really didn’t expect you of all ponies, no offence.”

Starlight expected anything but not a snort as an answer; it was promptly followed by equally dismissing words, “Stop being silly. Just coz Rainbow blacked out, yain’t hafta do her job.”

Still, it was like a heavy weight was lifted from the unicorn’s shoulders. A tentative smile began to creep on her face, but its visit was cancelled abruptly—after taking a swig from her tankard, Applejack added:

“Don’t get me wrong, I still don’t like you.”

An incredulous, almost terrified look took reign over Starlight’s features.

Oblivious to the shocked expression or simply choosing to ignore it, AJ continued in a measured tone, “I never used to like Rarity either, although it’s her who asked me to look out for ya.” Remembering something, Applejack paused, tapping her chin. “Actually, it’s Fluttershy who brought the idea first—and she ain’t a perfect mare, neither. Thing is, I ain’t got to like you to treat you like a friend you are, sugar cube.”

“I… thanks.”

Though the satisfaction of winning Applejack’s trust was a bit spoiled by a brutal truth, it was a victory nonetheless; Starlight wasn’t sure if it was what bothered her or the emotional rollercoaster was to blame.

AJ, who kept eyeing her, finally decided to comment on her perturbation, “You still look like you bit an apple and there’s a half of a worm.” With a stern frown, she hastily added, “Ain’t gonna happen with our apples. Ever.”

Suddenly remembering the reason why she ended up there in the first place, Starlight shifted in her seat uncomfortably. Given no other choice but to tell the truth, she was hesitant to explain herself. “When I was at the castle, Twilight read me a story, and I think she tried to tell me something with it–"

She wasn’t let to finish her worry.

“Listen, I’ve heard some of it in passing, and I ain’t coming near whatever is happening between you two, sorry.”

“It’s… not about that.” Starlight glanced warily at Applejack, waiting to be caught on being not entirely honest, but she was too busy refilling her mug, or just didn’t care. “You know the story about Snowfall Frost, right?”

“Sure as Celestia’s day, sugar cube.” A wide and warm smile accompanied her words. “Granny used to read it to me and Big Mac all the time.”

“She tried to hint to Snowfall and I being not that different.”

AJ’s forehead creased in thought as she processed the information and ultimately chose to remain a frown, deeper than it was initially and showing clear glimpses of anger.

“Starlight, you’re a smart pony, I reckon.” Applejack glowered at her. “Then why do you talk like a fool? Sometimes a book’s just a book.” A conspiratorial smirk graced her lips. “Don’t tell her that, though.” Then her expression regained its hard quality, albeit to a less extent. “She just wanted to share a good story, that’s all.”

For a full minute, relative silence ruled over the table, Starlight’s visage contorting, unable to decide on something concrete.

“But what if she is right?”

Applejack rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. Banging her hoof on the table, she turned away from it and shouted into the barn, “Hey, Carrot Top!”

A fiery-orange head perked up. “Yeah?”

Pointing her hoof at Starlight in an exaggerated fashion, AJ yelled, “Do you know this mare?”

“Rarity’s apprentice or somethin’.” Carrot Top, her gaze unfocused, shrugged, then returned to her drink.

Pressing her lips together and muttering curses under her breath, Applejack searched the party for somepony more communicative; her eyes stopped on a laughing fuschia mare.

“Cheerilee?”

“Huh?” The local teacher smiled dumbly, trying to understand what was wanted of her; then AJ pointed once more in the direction of her companion, Cheerilee’s smile widened. “Ah, Starlight Glimmer, she helped me at school one or two times!”

The conversation caught the attention of most barn occupants and at the mention of Starlight’s name by Cheerilee curious glances turned into nods of approval.

“See? I can ask anypony who lives in Ponyville and most of them would be happy to drink a mug or two of cider with you! Speaking of which...” Applejack topped up Starlight’s drink, then raised her own in a toast. “For friendship!”

Instead of echoing her words, Starlight thought for a moment before her mug joined AJ’s in the air.

“For acceptance!”

The urge to pick up the book with magic and throw it out of the window into the snow to never be seen again was overwhelming. Yet Twilight kept herself still, staring at the offending piece of literature like she expected it to catch on fire due to the power of her sheer will.

Whatever her heart told, Twilight considered herself a reasonable mare at the end, so she knew it wasn’t the Hearth’s Warming Tale to blame for Starlight’s abrupt departure. Her expression softened and eyes drifted to the now empty space as she longed for it to become occupied again, at least for the rest of this evening.

“Twily!”

Her head shot up, ears perked in a direction of the voice she expected to hear the least today. Finding its source, she demanded of the stallion confidently striding across the library, “What are you doing here?”

Shining Armor struck an overly dramatic pose of a grave offence.

“Is this how you greet your brother?”

Not a moment later, Cadance, who somehow managed to hide behind her husband all the time, joined him, “And you sister-in-law!”

Their smiles didn’t falter even a little bit when Twilight’s muzzle not only failed to mirror their merriment but scrunched with a matching frown creasing her forehead.

“I’m very glad to see you, but you should have warned me you are coming, so I could have prepared.”

Cadence chuckled, “That is exactly why we didn’t do it.”

Shining supplemented her with a wide smile, “The Crystal Ponies celebrate the Hearth’s Warming differently, so Cadie decided to pay a blitz visit to her aunties and me—to stop by here on our way back home.”

Twilight stared at her unexpected, yet still welcomed guests, trying to figure what to do with them and not quite finding the answer. Seconds added up into minutes and the awkwardness descended on the three ponies in the library like a heavy blanket, quickly becoming suffocating.

“I am not surprised to see you with a book, but shouldn't you join your friends downstairs? Let’s go!”

Despite the day starting to cede to the night, the celebration at the Castle of Friendship wasn’t coming close to its conclusion, becoming merrier and merrier as ponies kept joining the party.

Twilight was torn between joining it herself and continuing to supervise the pageant in the case any of her preparations failed to prove sufficient. Yet as the crowd fell apart into small groups, feasting on the food and drinks, finding activity to immerse themselves into—be it something provided by the host or simple enjoyment of their present company—nothing seemed to be out of order. Everypony but the Princess of Friendship was perfectly content.

More out of restlessness than the aim to alleviate that, she ultimately decided to leave her post above the clamour. By sheer chance, when Twilight stepped from the crystalline steps, she found herself looking at something somehow missed—a competition of sorts.

The only participants seemed to be none other than the rulers of the Crystal Empire, who to the exuberation of the crowd gorged on the fruit cake in attempts to finish it as fast as they could. With horrified expression Twilight watched as the Princess of Love, completely forgone her magic, shoving the hooffulls of the crumbling bakery in her mouths, smearing the filling across her muzzle, not just matching her husband in a display of uncouth manners, but overshadowing the sheer barbarism as she lowered her lips to the plate, devouring its contents akin to a wild animal.

Yet, neither Cadance nor Shining Armor seemed to be bothered by their appearance at all; their antics were either ignored by the gathered around them for the sake of the race or met with genuine approval, expressed with hearty laughter.

Finally, with a victorious whoop, Cadence shot her hooves in the air, a triumphant grin plastered on her face, almost hidden under the remainder of the cake.

“I win!”

Just a second later, Shining Armor tore his muzzle away from the empty plate and unlike his wife, scowled.

“You cheated!” Pointing an accusing hoof at her he added, “At least half of your cake is still on your face.”

The alicorn smugly remarked with a smirk. “What are you going to do about it, huh?” It instantly went away, her eyes widening when Shining lunged, his horn ablaze.

Cadence dodged the attack with a titter of amusement, leaving her husband sprawled where she was a moment ago. He recovered quickly and began to chase his wife, trying to catch her from the air. After about a minute of the laughter coming as much as from them as from the surrounding ponies, he managed to make her a forced landing in his hooves; the peace between them was sealed with a modest kiss.

The entire scene started as something incomprehensible—the figures of power acting like that amidst the populace, uncaring about their reputation… Yet Twilight couldn’t help but smile herself, looking at how happy her family was. It was when she met her brother’s eyes.

“We demand a rematch!” somepony yelled from the crowd.

The appeal was met with wide approval and Shining Armor laughed, “I guess we are up for round two, eh?”

“I’ll just beat you at it again!”

“Maybe, but you will have to compete against a real pro this time, somepony taught by the best.” Shining waved his hoof in a welcoming gesture.

Smiling sheepishly, Twilight approached him.

Blinking in confusion, Starlight stared at the crystal panning every surface around her. It wasn’t the question of where to head next, though. After the months-long absence, she had begun to lose her grasp on the labyrinthian layout. The cider, it seemed, had more influence on her than she cared to admit.

Trying to remember the path to her room, she turned around and was met not as much as a pony, but a silhouette half-hidden in the island of darkness, where the enchanted gem lanterns didn’t quite reach. Even in her not entirely lucid state, it took her a mere moment to recognize Twilight—there weren't many alicorns around, anyway.

Starlight’s thoughts became as clear as the crystals around and promptly winked out, leaving behind the emptiness of indecision. For what felt like an eternity, she peered into the shadows, waiting for them to move, but the mare on the opposite end of the corridor mirrored her stillness; Twilight was a statue cast in hesitance herself.

Hearts beat fastest as there was a movement—Twilight took a tentative tiny step forward, her features becoming pronounced when she got closer to the light, albeit still too concealed to read her expression; yet Starlight saw a glimmer of the eyes looking at her intently from the dark.

Something faltered inside her, and before she could give it a proper thought, her hooves carried her a step back. Twilight froze, then moved back herself—a frantic movement.

Strong and indistinguishable emotions flooded Starlight’s mind—she wanted nothing more than to cross the spot of light and embrace Twilight in her hooves; however, that desire was making her limbs shake, not move. Somehow she knew that the same battle raged on the other side of the spotlight’s indomitable ravine.

Starlight's thoughts finally found clarity—not the answer she wanted right now, nor was it correct—the only she had.

Sharply turning around, she ran out of the castle.