Despite her deepest, most fervent desires otherwise, Cadance awoke early the next morning to find that the sun had risen and the earth did continue to turn. The world that greeted her was pale and cold, the last days of winter’s chill remaining with spring slow to come and bring life to the skeletal world. Was the world mocking her, she wondered? A land bereft, still brimming with death just as she was. Or would wisdom call it mourning, the slow process of grief that travels on as one struggles to say goodbye? She had yet to rise from the ashes, clothing still torn and covered with sackcloth; maybe the world simply waited for her to take the next step. It would remain in this greyed, unhappy time until she could begin the process.

Rising from her side of the bed, an unhappy and still-sorrowed spirit wandered down the stairs with what skill her hobbled leg would allow, towards the kitchen where she knew the holy bean juice awaited. She needed coffee to face whatever else came today, of that she was sure. Since when had she been able to face the world without it? A simple scoop and the press of a button would be all it took.

A small plate was in her hand only a few minutes later, a single biscuit and two slices of bacon upon it as she staggered over to her place at the table. Cadance wasn’t really hungry, but the weakness in her bones counseled her to seek out sustenance even if there was no joy to be found in such an action. Perhaps starting small was best.

The mourning widow took a pause in between chews, noticing a bulk of letters atop the table that hadn’t been placed there by her hand. Was this her mail? She hadn’t grabbed any of it in weeks, Celestia must have brought it in with her yesterday. It was a rather formidable pile, likely filled with medical bills, insurance coverages and heaven knew what else. But as she listlessly shifted through the mix, a county symbol appeared in a blazon of bright ink on the corner of one of the envelopes. It was addressed to her- but what on earth for?

Oh. A quick note from the courthouse to notify her of a guilty plea. She would be allowed to make a victim statement, if she wished to make an appearance, to speak on behalf of herself and her lost bride. A guilty plea? By whom? The death of Twilight had been so much more significant than anything surrounding the event that Cadance had forgotten the circumstances of the wreck itself. A drunk driver had collided with them, speeding through the red light; a young man, if she recalled correctly. And he was pleading guilty… I hadn’t even thought about him at all, she realized. I wonder what happened to him. She tried to put a face to the stranger that had so swiftly ruined her life, but even tired emotions decided that wisdom would win out; it would be better to not imagine some sneering, malevolent boogeyman. The real thing would be unbearable enough.

Her march through breakfast came at a snail’s pace, the last piece of bacon cold as it fell between her teeth, one final sip of coffee no more warm than the arctic once it washed the pitiful meal away. It was not much, nor did she feel sated, but Cadance did notice a lessening of her nausea as well as a slight brightness in the world. How weak had she become? Celestia probably had arrived just in time for more reasons than one. All that was left for her now was breakfast cleanup, putting the dishes in the dishwasher and pouring out the rest of the coffee she wouldn’t want. Likely the pot was already off at this point so no need to bother with remembering, just pour the cold liquid down the drain and toss out the grounds-

When she turned from the dishwasher to face the coffeemaker that sat on the counter, Cadance gave a start at the sight: already off, filter slowly drying out and the pot empty with not a drop to be found within. She’d actually made coffee just for herself, and herself alone.

A sudden rush of guilt; was she forgetting Twilight already? Goodness, so what that it had been continuously wasteful, it had been her habit for twenty years strong! Make enough coffee for herself and Twilight, lest one of them go without and be transformed into a grump for the rest of the day. And goodness, did she remember the first time Twilight had to go without! It had been early in their life together, probably only a month or so after the younger woman had moved in. Cadance had been in such a rush that morning, too busy with work at school to ensure her later-rising wife had brew awaiting her. The amount of dry, unhappy texts she’d received that day was unbelievable, a fight following when they’d gotten home before it had collapsed into laughter and kisses. And love- so much love…

The force of the memory was so strong in her mind’s eye, something once so trivial and simple now a thing that stung at her heart. Cadance had to wipe away the tears immediately, but soon found them refreshed by further fallings of salt. It hurt to think of Twilight like this; of all the times she’d screwed up and let her down in matters both great and small. But they’d always managed to make up before too long, reunited in each other’s arms and falling into laughter or tears together. And then the romance would somehow, inevitably come alive and see them all the more deeply wound. Always, no matter what, they had found their way back to loving one another…

The weeping woman fell back against the cupboards and let her tears flow a little while longer, embracing the sting for the grace of the joy that lived on within it. She would not regret this hurt for anything in all the world, not when the smile came at the behest of a memory like this. Wasn’t Twilight worth smiling over, too?

The courthouse had a look of decay about it despite the polished marble upon which she hobbled. It was an old building, likely refurbished and repaired across decades of time far greater than that of her own life. Cadance had only entered this place the one time, hand-in-hand with Twilight to forever bind themselves together in holy matrimony. It had been such a time of fear and love, so inexorably wound together that the memory would forever burn bright with the fires of them both. She’d had every reason to be nothing but petrified, so determined to be miserable. But oh, how Twilight had insisted they get married. And the day that had transpired, the night they’d spent together in the harmony of love~! No fear could be greater than how good that had felt.

Cadance hadn’t expected she’d be here again. Not for a day when she would have to stand in the same room as Twilight’s killer.

The sentencing had been of so little importance to her when compared to what was lost. Justice or vengeance of any kind wasn’t what she’d sought, more focused on the absence of Twilight than to concern herself with punishment for the one who had ended her life. Was it wrong of her to not hate him? He had been drunk and still decided to drive, his negligence bringing about cataclysmic consequences to her life; shouldn’t that be something she had strong feelings about? Cadance gave a half-hearted try at arousing some sort of anger but found it difficult to maintain. He was going to be sent to prison where she would never see him again, too swift in his departure from her life to be worthy of any great feeling- even if his actions had dealt so much hurt to her world. Perhaps when she was younger, before her bride’s tranquil influence on her life had really sunk in, she might have managed. But not now.

Outside the courtroom stood a trio of figures, one recognizable; Celestia carried a hushed conversation with a man and a woman who held a rather formidable amount of paperwork in their hands. Were they the prosecutors for the county, perhaps? They were formally dressed, and the materials about them suggested as such. Cadance wondered if the three were waiting for her.

Her footsteps alerted them to the arrival of another, Celestia the first to break away and reach out to her companion. “You made it,” she said, wrapping her arms about Cadance in an embrace. “I wondered if you were going to show, I know this must be so hard for you.”

Was it difficult? Cadance had grieved so fiercely for so long over the loss of her bride. That had been her epicenter, not this trial; all she felt was a melancholy. Perhaps it would be more difficult when she was inside and facing the man who had ruined her life. “Are we waiting for something?”

“The bailiff stepped out and said the defense hasn’t arrived yet,” the strange man answered, hand outstretched in greeting. “Once the accused is in the courtroom then we’ll be allowed in. We assumed it would be easiest for you to spend as little time as possible in the same room as Mr. Senner.”

So that was his name. If it had been on the letter informing her of the guilty plea then she hadn’t noticed. “Oh- OK,” Cadance replied. “Umm, I’m assuming you two are-”

“Mr. La Croix, from the DA’s office. This is Ms. Welara, who’s been helping me work on the case. Glad to finally meet you, Miss Cadance, I’ve been trying to get in contact with you for the past several weeks regarding the trial, but I know this must be hard.”

“Sorry for not responding, then,” Cadance said. There had been greater, more pressing matters that her mind had focused on rather than the insistence of an outsider; the silence had been intentional, albeit without malice. “I was- well.”

The man was slightly younger than she but seemed unsurprised by her reaction- or her silence regarding the matter. “Don’t worry, the statements you gave at the hospital were more than enough, this case was a wrap even without them,” La Croix said. “Senner will be going away for a long time; he’ll pay for what he did to you, I promise.”

Celestia bit her lip, glancing over at the expressionless woman beside her. Perhaps she alone was the only one who could guess at what Cadance thought about the whole affair.

The courtroom doors opened and an elderly man beckoned for them to enter, Cadance walking in with Celestia beside her every step of the way. Instructed to take a seat just behind the state’s desk, the widowed woman glanced over at the faraway table and for the first time laid eyes upon Twilight’s killer- a sight enough to make her heart sink.

He’s… he’s so young. Despite her best intentions, Cadance’s imaginations had conjured the image of a heavier-set man somewhere in his middle age, at the beginnings of decay and disheveled from years of unhappy living. What sat beside the public defenders was a man hardly a step’s distance away from boyhood, thin and paler even than the prisoner’s garb that adorned his body. Was he even old enough to drink at all? There was still a youthfulness to his face, a softness of the features that had not been worn down by time’s cruel efforts.

Perhaps the young man felt her scrutinizing gaze boring through the back of his skull; a small glance back in her direction that soon became a double-take, eyes growing wide as fear set in. He could not bear to return her stare for much more than a moment, his frail body wilting beneath the effort. Instead he turned to the lines of benches behind him and allowed his eyes a brief rest upon a man and woman who sat in the middle of the row. His glance back towards them was enough to make the woman break, her own features so similar to his- yet nearly inhuman as the grief that weighed her down dripped down her face in the form of tears, the comfort of the man beside her not enough to quell them. The sight seemed to break the boy, he turning forward as his head sunk.

The sentencing hardly took any time at all, the formalities of the guilty plea little more than a delay of the inevitable. Each answer the young boy gave seemed to ripple through the courtroom and find his parents, striking at his mother’s heart and spurring the birth of further tears. Cadance saw how low he sunk, heard that voice speak in a dulled murmur. Hadn’t she caught the look in his eyes, if only for a moment? He knew his life was coming to an end, even as he would continue on in a prison cell. He was leaving his family behind, life and loves and dreams to the wayside. All because of one foolish, wildly errant choice, so many lives had been ruined- the most precious of them all even lost.

She’d only ever thought of Twilight and herself. Dear, sweet Twilight who had been lost in the span of a single moment and the pitiful woman who could not endure life without her love. Not even the slightest consideration of the man who had separated them. Now she looked at him and saw the end of so much more than just one life.

“They’re asking for you.” Celestia’s gentle words fell upon her ear and roused Cadance from her thoughts; all eyes of the courtroom were upon her now, from the cold expression of the judge who sat on high to the terrified gazes of the young man’s parents who sat in the rows across from her.

“I’m sorry?” Cadance called. She rose to her feet and tried to pretend she had only misheard rather than deliberately not listen to what transpired before her.

The judge, a domineering woman with deep-brown hair, pulled a small face but did not allow any further emotion to find its life upon her features. “I asked if you wished to speak at this time, Ms. Cadance,” she said. “Or would you rather leave no victim statement?”

She hadn’t realized she could say no. She could let this moment pass her by and remain untethered to her soul forever, just a small blip in a dark day that she would never want to remember yet never be able to forget. Why care about a sentence or a statement at all? It all seemed so insignificant in the face of what she’d lost. But Cadance could not ignore the stares that fell on her no matter how far or close. Celestia had her lips pursed and seemed to wonder if she would even say anything at all. The judge and the attorneys that sat at the tables appeared irritated at her indecision. Every eye in the courtroom awaited her next move and what words would come next- all save one: the young man who was the progenitor of all of this, unable to look her way and sunk so low into himself that it was a miracle he still lived.

“Ms. Cadance?” The judge sounded exasperated, wondering if perhaps she was still too embittered by grief to easily speak.

“I…” Cadance couldn’t tear her eyes from him, a being so utterly defeated and broken that it was like staring at a corpse; alive when it so certainly should not be, begging for that final release. It was impossible to look anywhere else, to see anything but one dying while they still breathed. He was never coming back, he and his world incapable of escaping any of this- just like Twilight. “I… yes, ma’am, I’ll- I’ll speak.”

“Please come forward to the podium,” was the command that followed.

She felt the quick squeeze of Celestia’s hand on her arm before she pushed through the swinging doors and past the attorney’s tables, still feeling the burning eyes of others as she walked. She could feel the weight of every emotion held within them, whether it be anticipation or anger or horror, all of them so potent that it was as though a storm brewed within this hallowed room. Yet when Cadance took her place at the podium and turned to face the miniscule crowd, still did the young man fail to rise and meet her, head bowed by the weight of death- and the pain of tears that fell so quietly from his face.

“I…” She didn’t know how to begin. There was no prepared speech, no plan of what to say. “I know what you did. And it was wrong,” Cadance began, each word arriving with little knowledge of what would follow after. “I don’t really remember much. Just a quick flash of your headlights before I woke up in the hospital. And my best friend telling me I’d lost my Twilight.”

The shiver of the man and woman in the courtroom rows could be felt; the sting of tears falling down the poor woman’s face as her husband did what he could to comfort her, his face stony and intent on displaying his grief even as he lost his son. Cadance wondered what it must be like for them to see this. At least Twilight was free of all pain and sorrow and chance of hurt, running free through golden fields that were worthy of her. But to see your child and know he was dead while still living…

“I miss her. Every day. I woke up to her every morning, the last thing I’d see every night was her face. I spent so many days and nights just- just happy knowing that someone so good loved me,” Cadance continued. “Even when I was sick, at least I knew there wasn’t going to be a day I would be without her.”

The young Mr. Senner shrunk all the more, a shadow of himself as each word struck him like a knifeblade. Cadance looked upon him and found a kinship; he wanted so desperately to die, his heart and soul incapable of withstanding the pain that befell him. So overwhelming in its cruel bite that to withstand it a moment longer was more than what the soul could bear. He was so young, meant to be just beginning the experience of life’s many joys…

“And now I do. And I’ll have to. Every single day I’m going to be without her,” Cadance said, and for the first time felt a catch in her throat. This was the admission of reality; she was going to be without Twilight for the rest of her life, to spend heaven knew how many days without the one she’d loved more than anything else in all creation. Twilight was gone. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to live with that. Without her. She was… everything to me. I was a better person because of her. And I’ll never see her again because of one single moment.”

The world seemed to tense; parent and child held their breath as they waited for the hammer to fall, the words that would plunge deep and draw real blood.

“I know what you did. And it was wrong,” Cadance said, the stain of tears across her lips turning words slippery. “And I know I’m supposed to hate you for it, because the most innocent person in the world died and we’re still here… but I can’t.”

Senner’s thin form grew taut and he came to life, staring at the woman whose life he’d destroyed. His parents could hardly bear to look, weeping mother incapable of enduring this pained goodbye.

“I can’t hate you. I- I don’t want to hate you. Twilight wouldn’t want to hate you, either,” Cadance said. “I wish you hadn’t done it. I wish none of it had happened because I miss her more than anything. But hating you won’t bring her back. And I know you just wish you could die because maybe that would make it easier. But you- you and I are still here. So I guess we’re going to have to keep living since my Twilight can’t. And maybe we’ll figure out how someday.”

Senner looked at her with eyes that shimmered, a new sensation of hurt pulsing through his tired body. There was confusion and grief present, his young mind not yet capable of understanding why he had been so readily forgiven by one he had so deeply wounded. It just did not make sense that he could be absolved; had he not done something horrible, heinous beyond measure? Yet there Cadance stood, heart reaching out to him and wishing him to live, all for reasons he could not yet understand.

“I- I guess that’s all I have to say, Your Honor,” Cadance finished lamely, limping back to her place beside Celestia amidst the wooden rows and taking a seat as the final words of the court were spoken. She knew the burning of salt across pale skin, feel the arm wrap about her and keep her close, a comforting warmth and a whisper brimming with tearful pride that sang into her ear. But all Cadance could see was the confused, sorrowed gaze of the young man who could not tear his eyes away from her as he wondered why she pleaded for him to live.

It was her first Christmas without Twilight. The whole of the year had raced past her eyes so quickly that to suddenly be upon this moment was something Cadance hadn’t found herself prepared enough to endure. Thanksgiving should have been the clue that the hurt on the horizon would cut deep, forewarning that absence of her half would burn against her heart yet again. Yet now here she sat, her home empty and left undecorated as the early darkness overtook the world.

Cadance sat alone on her usual place atop the sofa. The old thing had been part of her life for years now, the wearing of age giving it sags and wrinkles that testified to continued use. She could feel where the cushion sank beneath her weight, deeper than perhaps it should- and beside her the empty space where Twilight was meant to be. Her right side was cold; body heat was supposed to be present, adding to her own and preventing the dark from sapping away her strength. But so much of her strength was gone, whether it be sickness or age or the violent tearing of her very self that had seen it done. Cadance felt so small amidst this deepened black that came with the cold and wondered if her bones might freeze.

The alarm on her phone roused the woman from her thoughtless apathy, pale light burning bright and calling for her attention. Dinner at Celestia’s! it called out, beckoning for her to journey out into the early night and make good on her promise. Celestia had insisted she be there, Luna and the rest of her family having come to town for the holiday occasion. She’d been so sure that it would be good for Cadance to not be alone on a day that was meant for cheer and company. But should she even go? Her heart was heavy, her mind filled with the words of despair that begged to be spoken aloud; if she went, it was more than likely that her presence would suck the happiness away. It would be better if she remained alone tonight.

But you promised. And you should try to keep that promise, especially for Celestia. She’s been so good to me all year long. Words not welcome, but arriving from a place more rational than the grieving, wounded places of her mind that demanded she remain rooted. With a heavy sigh Cadance rose from her place atop the sagging couch and went upstairs to change. She at least needed to look a little presentable before arriving; her pajamas hardly qualified as respectable clothing.

The drive over went by smoothly, little traffic on the road at such a time. By now, most of the world was too deeply entwined with family or loved ones to be out and about amidst the cold. Perhaps it was a good omen. Maybe it was only a swiftness to something worse. But arrived she did all the same, Cadance walking up the steps to the front porch and giving a quiet knock upon the door. She half-hoped no one would be there to answer.

The door swung open so quickly it was as though her presence had been anxiously awaited, Celestia standing there in a bright-red Santa dress and her cheeks glowing a faint pink in the light. “Cadance, hello!” She said, taking her friend in a tight embrace and holding her fast. “Oh, it’s good to see you, I was worried you weren’t going to show!”

“I promised I would,” Cadance said- and suddenly finding her voice catching. The warmth of this simple human comfort was an itch she hadn’t even realized needed to be scratched. Just to be held and loved without condition, without question, safe within the arms of another. The shudder that came could not be repressed but she managed to prevent the falling of tears so early into the night; it would not do for waterworks here.

“And I’m glad you kept your promise,” Celestia said, smiling bright as though it were the finest thing in the world. “Come on in, I know it’s freezing out here-”

“Thank you. Sorry I didn’t bring anything. You know, food or-”

“Oh, it’s fine! Nova and Jasper have been in the kitchen since morning and I can smell everything, we ought to be fine,” Celestia replied. “You want something to drink at all, I’ve got some Irish hot chocolate that you might like…”

“… Sure. That sounds nice,” Cadance said, and finding that a part of herself actually meant it. “Enjoying being Mrs. Clause for the day?”

Celestia’s eyes gleamed bright as she let the long hem of her dress twirl about, looking so perfectly suited for the holiday that it was so easily possible that such a day had been made with her in mind. “I never get to be the host, so I… may have gotten a little excited.”

“Red is your color,” Cadance offered.

The brilliant educator smiled all the more. “You’re too kind to this old girl. I’m starting to feel as old as Santa nowadays…”

The living room was bristling with holiday cheer, whether it be in the form of decorations or the bright warmth of light and life that emanated from TV and candles. Luna sat on the couch and enjoyed the spectacle of sports, ceasing only to leap up and give her newly arrived companion a hug.

“Oh thank God you’re here, hopefully you’ll get her to calm down,” Luna gasped. “She’s been going manic all week, I can’t be around a sibling who’s in this good a mood. I’m gonna go nuts!”

Celestia gave a Hmph! at the remark and flounced off to the kitchen to fetch a drink, not deigning to be around such mockery. Cadance gave a small laugh at it all; this was the closest to normal banter that she’d known since the start of the year, all bluster and brimming with love. Already she could feel her heart beginning to lighten, if only just a tad…

“I like it. She misses seeing you all every day,” Cadance remarked.

“Hopefully she’ll calm down when we move back in a few years,” Luna groaned. “I’ve got just a couple more years before retirement, Nova’s almost done with college, and Jasper can do everything for his job online. We’d love to be back in home territory quick as we can.”

“So you’ll be moving again?”

“In due time. But yes, that’s the hope. Besides, Nova think she’ll want to open a restaurant here in town, catch up to the new wave scene downtown. Jasper tried to keep her in law school but you know how she gets.”

“Stubborn. Like her mother,” Cadance said, almost as a tease. “Heaven knows how you raised her to be so good.”

“Because she’s got a bit of her Daddy in her, that’s why,” Luna explained. “He managed to tame me, of all people, do you even remember how wild I was?”

“I think I outclassed you, really,” Cadance replied. The years were now many but still she could see every failing, every horrid thing she’d done and still felt the chill of shame that came from them…

“You both cooled down eventually,” Celestia proclaimed, striding back into the room with steaming mugs of sweet brew in hand. “And become the most wonderful of ladies.”

“Me? A lady?” Luna asked drily. “I feel like that’s debatable.”

“And a good mother, too,” Celestia added as she took a seat in the recliner.

Luna smiled, but rolled her eyes. “See? This is how you know she’s been drinking, Celestia’s the most complimentary person ever when she starts getting drunk.”

“I am not drunk!” Celestia protested, despite the evidence of the deepening red on her cheeks. “I’m not! I’m just trying to stay warm, it’s cold!”

“And I’m a monkey’s uncle. Don’t even try to lie to me, Cellie,” Luna cut through. Cold, brutal, and hilariously to the point, suggesting that perhaps her own glass was filled with something a little more stout than just water.

“Well, I just want to be festive,” Celestia muttered, unwilling to be abashed and see her mood ruin. “So… Luna, do you have it or-”

“Oh- oh yes, yes! It’s right here,” Luna said, turning about and beginning to dig somewhere behind the couch.

“Have- have what?” Cadance asked.

“So, umm- before we got started with dinner,” Celestia began, suddenly sobered up and leaning forward in her seat, “Luna and I wanted to give you something.”

“A gif- oh, you didn’t- you didn’t need to get me anything,” Cadance murmured, now wishing all the more she’d brought something worthwhile along besides just herself. “That’s very sweet of you, thank you both.”

“Well, truth be told it was Cellie’s idea,” Luna muttered, arising from her search with a wrapped package in hand. “We just worked on it together, since it took a lot of effort. It was quite hard, actually.”

“Hard because..?”

“Open it and you’ll see,” Celestia explained. “Maybe that’ll help it make sense.”

Mystified, Cadance slowly tore through the wrapping. It was solid, that much she could tell. But the first rip revealed only a dark lavender color and nothing more- until the rest was cast aside and the sight of what lay in her hand was enough to steal her breath. It was a photo album, the front bearing a photograph of the two of them at their wedding and in the midst of a kiss. The real ceremony, the one that had been a celebration of so many trials and pains now put in the past, suffering at last gone and room made for so much happiness. She remembered that kiss; how lovely Twilight had looked in her wedding dress, how soft her hands had been, the sweetness of her lips. It was a memory so deeply cherished that not even time could dispel its strength.

She knew what awaited her within the album’s pages, and Cadance found herself unsurprised by what lay there: so many photographs of Twilight and herself, spending time with friends both new and old. There were so many of Twilight in high school, of her days at college, the beginnings of their life together- and oh, those early days of their marriage. All of them forever sealed in memory and untarnished, words of ink beside each one. Some professed how much they’d loved –no, how much they loved Twilight even still, and how grateful they were to have been a part of her life. There was so much kindness, so many unique memories and moments that not even Cadance had known of. And all of them honoring one she’d loved more than life itself.

She’d promised not to let the tears flow so easily, but their clear forms fell against the thin plastic all the same. Dripping down across her smiling lips, Cadance wondered how her heart could possibly withstand the intensity of this joyous hurt that so powerfully ravaged her body. She missed Twilight, each and every single day, but the pain of her loss was faced by these memories and could not stand against the joy that blossomed because of them. She hurt without Twilight, but at least she had known her so deeply.

The hands on her shoulders helped guide her away from the grief and into laughter, grateful for the sweetness of drink that could burn away the tears.

She’d once loved this day. Sentimentality had always had its sway over her heart, able to turn a rational, sensible woman into a blubbering romantic. But Cadance had always managed to hold some of her sway and keep steady when she was younger. It was only when she really fell in love that Valentine’s Day became a day of ecstasy or pain; she couldn’t resist its allure, to wander the streets alone and see so many faces without one beside her. Twilight had turned a day of loneliness into a thing of utter joy simply by being there; how could one feel sad on a day that celebrated love when one so lovely was there beside her?

But that had been a year ago, and Twilight had died before the day had run its course. Valentine’s was tainted, blighted by blood once more. And so Cadance sat in her empty house and struggled against the weight.

She had improved; really, she had. But this was an anniversary she had never been prepared to endure, no thought in mind capable to steel her spirit. How was she supposed to abide a day of love when the one she loved was so far gone? Just knowing and remembering was agony. Cadance could not endure it-

At least, not alone. So out she reached, desperate for a hand that would save her from falling. And a friend answered.

Cadance wondered if it was a pitiful self-pity that drove her to such desperation. Didn’t other deal with loneliness through much more reasonable means? All she wanted was to guzzle down a bottle of wine and not remember a single moment, but to do so seemed so disrespectful to what made Twilight special. She needed to be sober, clear-minded as she recalled that gentle spirit she’d come to love. To dishonor Twilight’s death by trying to forget it felt so wrong.

The door opened without a knock to warn of impending company; of course it did, how many times had Celestia come over to aid her during this past year? Cadance couldn’t recall a time she’d so heavily depended on anyone since Twilight had helped her endure the trials of cancer. Every time she’d struggled, debated the worthiness of her life’s endurance, Celestia had been present to help stem the tide. And now, when faced with a torturous memory so personal, she knew no other to which she could seek aid.

“I- I didn’t know what to bring with me,” Celestia began, settling down gingerly in the loveseat as though fearful she didn’t belong there. “I’ve got a bottle of bourbon just in case-”

“In case what?” Cadance questioned.

Celestia bit her lip. “In case… you just wanted to forget for a little while,” she admitted.

The offer was not a foolish one; made with genuine kindness in mind, Celestia offered a real chance to bypass such pain and let it not trouble her heart, to simply let the day go and not be remembered. But Cadance could not allow herself such a thing. “No, thank you,” she said after a while. “I think… I want to remember this.”

“But why?”

“Because I wish she was with me.”

The two women sat in silence for a time, but not in darkness; Cadance had seen fit for the standing lamp to be lit, illuminating the living room in a soft warmth of orange and red against the darkened shade of night that crept in all around. Celestia breathed in its colors, let their tendrils seep in and turn her sky-color hair aglow against the black. Perhaps she knew not what to say- or, more befitting her wisdom, she said nothing so that Cadance might find room to seek out what words to say herself. Talk would only bring further pain to a time such as this, but her presence and listening ear might offer a chance at healing.

“I’m lonely without her, Tia,” Cadance admitted. All about did her eyes flicker, from top to bottom and everything in between. “There’s times I wake up and think I hear her sleeping next to me. Or that she’s just around the corner, working on something and that I’ll see her again. I- I don’t know if I can really remember a time in this place when she wasn’t here.”

Slowly, carefully as though fearful of breaking a spell, Celestia rose from her place. Up from the loveseat and over beside her friend did she come to rest, her hands coming about those of Cadance’s and holding them close in an offering of warmth. Words could only hurt, but she needed it to be known that she was listening. Cadance needed to know.

“It’s like every day just- just hurts. Because she’s not there,” Cadance continued. “I see her everywhere here, but she’s not there. And I keep trying to be happy but I always find myself wondering if it’s wrong. Like I can’t be happy anymore now she’s gone.” There was a desire for tears, but they did not flow. The mere speaking of the words into existence was the siphoning of venom from her blood, allowing for the presence of something real instead. “I miss her, but I know I need to keep going. Yet I keep seeing her, and I just… I don’t know how.”

“Like you’re still living in two different places,” Celestia whispered, holding all the tighter as her lips were loosened at last. “Where she was- and where you are now.”

Cadance struggled back against the pain, yet found herself smiling all the same. Someone understood what it was like! Knew the words in her heart and how to say them aloud. “Yes, that’s it,” she murmured. “I can’t keep living in a place where I think Twilight’s just around the corner waiting for me, yet every time I go to find her she’s just- not. I… I don’t know how to live with that.”

“Cadance?”

“Mhm?”

Celestia let her gaze flicker away for a time, a pause before she answered. “Do you mind if I told you what I think you should do?”

“Not at all.”

“I think,” Celestia began, “That you need to sell the house.”

A thought in her own mind as well, but one so brimming with pain that Cadance didn’t know how to consider it. “And really say goodbye to her.”

“Not to Twilight. No, not- not ever,” Celestia replied. “But this… it hurts you to be here. Her presence is so deeply, personally entwined with this place that living in it is like stepping on glass. You bleed just by living, by being here. I can’t think of a reason why you should just keep hurting. It’s not mourning to see yourself pain, it’s just…”

“I don’t want to forget her, Tia,” Cadance said, “Not ever.”

“Neither do I. But she’d want you to be happy. And you know full well you’re never going to be happy living in a place where you’ll always be seeing her shadow.”

It was the truth in all its cold bluntness; hurtful, painful, but undeniable all the same. Cadance didn’t want to hear it nor heed it, but Celestia was the only one left in the world that she knew to trust implicitly even if she knew not what steps to take next. “And so what should I do?” She asked drily, hiccups coming as tears threatened to fall. “I don’t have a place to go, should I downsize and just leave everything-”

“No, no! Of course not,” Celestia breathed, holding fast to her friend and allowing her fingers to intertwine themselves. “Bring every good, happy memory of Twilight you want with you, and leave everything else to the past. But you’ll come live with me. I’ve got a spare bedroom, you can bring everything you want and make my home yours. Just a couple of old girls. And you’d… you’d make my empty house feel a whole lot smaller. It’d do me a huge favor.”

She knew it would be the end of an era. Twilight’s spirit had left its indelible mark all over this home, from decorations to the mere memory of her spirit. To leave would be to say the final goodbye to the life that had been made beside her- and Cadance knew it. But that life was already dead, the ghost of its presence burning at her skin like fire until she could endure it no longer. Was that not why she had called for Celestia’s companionship? To block out the hurt and contend against the pain a little while longer? The signs could not be mistaken any longer, even if she wanted so desperately to ignore them. The time had come, and there could be no delay of the inevitable.

“And I wouldn’t be a bother,” Cadance offered.

“Definitely not!” Celestia countered, offended that such a thought could be suggested. “Gods, I’d love for some company in that place, you know how long I’ve lived there alone? It’d be like Luna was back in town again or at least close to it.”

“It won’t be the same.” Cadance knew what she said, and what it would mean for whom.

“No, it won’t. But it can be a little better than now.”

So Cadance agreed.

The year passed peacefully, in fits and starts as a new life tried to reinvent itself from the ashes. Days came by where the hurt was so great that merely living within them was too painful to be remembered. But there would still be the tinges of happy memory, of moments that could not be overwhelmed by grief. Twilight had gone to tread a different path, but her fingerprints were everywhere, undeniable and the joy they brought still so powerful.

Cadance was there when she received the news of Velvet’s passing, the undefeatable wearings of time and illness too much to bear. She had not died slowly starving, aware and frightened of the world in which she dwelled; instead Velvet had spent her last day in a happy memory, still young and fresh-faced as when her world had been new. No drunkenness, no stains of married misery, just the beginnings of a family that had so much room to grow and be happy. There had been peace, and joy despite the reality in which she had once dwelled.

“I can’t wait to see Twilight again,” Velvet had said happily. To what memory she had referred to was beyond the wisdom of any of them, but the eager smile on her face was too bright, too pure to be wiped away. Perhaps she recalled a moment when she had waited for her youngest daughter’s return from school, to hear that happy voice recall so much knowledge and memory all of its own. So when Velvet had laid down to take a nap from which she would never awake, the smile did not fade even as the last breath left her lungs, for indeed she had gone to see her daughter once more.

Cadance struggled with the loss, even if she knew there was greater peace for Velvet here at the end. Those shared memories of someone they’d both loved were gone, lost to the movements of time and never to be brought back again. But why should she, when they had been something endured together? For good or ill they were gone, whether the memory had been pleasant or not. Part of her wished to hold on and withstand the pain even if it were a choice so unwise, but wisdom told her differently. She had to move forward, beyond where she had once been. There was no other way, no place for her in the land of dead and dying things while she still breathed.

Good days came. And went, like the movements of the tide against the shore, so swift and temporary. Cadance found days where she reveled in the memory of the bride she had loved, where the moments that had once been danced before her mind’s eye and brought such comfort that nothing could tarnish them. Other times, such things could only wound; the absence of her presence could so easily be agony, a desperate need to hold on and love someone as integral to her nature as sleeping and breathing. Cadance knew not how to live without loving someone so deeply any longer- or had she always been built to love like this? The answer felt obvious, even if she had no desire to endure it. It was so easy to stare at the empty side of a bed and feel utterly lost in the maelstrom of human life, bereft of any hand to hold that would help her withstand the tide.

But she was not quite alone any longer. Despite the hurt, despite how afraid she had been to say farewell to that part of her world, Cadance no longer had a home to herself any longer; Celestia’s invitation had been genuine, the shared space between them a welcome comfort when the grief proved to be so overwhelming. Some moments came and hit with the force of a hammer, the crashing waves of hurt intent on sweeping her away; how she would have withstood them on her own was unimaginable. Cadance could only reach out for help and a listening ear, more often than not. And Celestia listened.

“I can just listen, if you’d like,” Celestia offered one evening. The two of them had gathered together in the living room by mere happenstance, the resplendent woman taking note of her companion’s downcast spirit. “If you feel like talking.”

“It’s alright. Honestly, I think I’d like your opinion on this one,” Cadance admitted. She tried to look away from that bright gaze, the feel of it so familiar yet brimming with newness. It was rather shameful that she even consider the thought…

“Oh. Alright, then,” Celestia replied. “Let me hear it.”

“Well…” Cadance grimaced, wondering if she should even say anything. “Do- am I bad for feeling lonely?”

Celestia blinked. “Lonely without Twilight? Cadance, you were with her for over twenty years.”

“I know. But what I mean is- well, I… I want someone to hold to. I miss just- giving affection to someone, you know? Loving someone, being kind to them. I haven’t been able to do anything like that since Twilight died. But I miss it. Like I just… wasn’t made for being alone.”

“Maybe you weren’t,” Celestia remarked, resting her chin atop her hand. “Maybe you should try dating again. See if someone tickles your fancy.”

“But would it- does it dishonor her memory? Like I’m trying to forget her?” Cadance asked. The real core of the question was laid bare now, free and made vulnerable. She had to know the truth, needed to know…

Celestia, however, shook her head. “You were made to love someone, Cadance,” she said. “And I think you should. Twilight isn’t a ghost, she’s not waiting around the corner to judge you. She’s moved on- to better places, and she’s there waiting for you. But maybe you should take someone with you on the journey for the rest of the way.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well… maybe because it’s not good for you to be alone.”

Cadance heeded the advice. Hesitation and doubt remained, but she listened all the same and began to try to not be alone any longer. It started only halfway, a haphazard attempt at reigniting passionate flames that had all but been extinguished. With little idea of what the dating world was supposed to look like, Cadance found herself floundering about like a fish out of water; Twilight had once complained of how miserable dating life had been at college- to think that it could somehow get worse. Too old, too out of touch, too anything was all that she encountered. The longer she tried to figure out this strange new world, the less she liked it. Perhaps this newfangled way of things was not what she was meant to understand. But still the yearning remained. It was not good for her to be alone.

Cadance did what she could to fill her time. Work was a good salve for the wounds, empty space filling up even if there was a burn that came with it. She wanted to hear from another, to look upon words of comfort and know them to be filled with love. But she was alone, widowed and yearning for connection. Who would wish to be there for one so old and used up as she?

To her surprise, Cadance slowly began to find that empty space filled. Celestia remained ever the intentional, loving companion she had been ever since Twilight’s departure. As though taking up a mantle that had been set to ground, the sunlit woman refused to allow her friend to wallow in self-pity. She was there for word and silence both, to comfort and to guide whenever the need arose. Whenever Cadance found herself struggling with isolation, so there Celestia would be to break through the miasma and see it dispelled. There would even be nights where the two would go out into the world and enjoy themselves, to forgo the solitude of a quiet house and seek out excitement- or rather, what excitement a pair of aging women were willing to withstand. But they were not alone, and found themselves comforted by one another. And the more time went on, the more Cadance didn’t mind.

One year became two, time relentless in its slow yet swift crawl ever onwards. Cadance held memory fast, enjoying ones long gone and those that continued to be made anew. Her grief came in waves, yet their timing grew ever wider as the world went on. She could enjoy her solitude if need be- but she could spend it in the comfort of another, too. Celestia was there to be beside her, no matter how many times she asked for it. Time continued its march, pain brought its dull ache, so more and more Cadance found herself beside an old friend who was not quite friend any longer. There was more to see, to know, and to do, all of it calling for her to come out and find; life beckoned for her to know its face, to sing until time truly ran out and to not do so alone. So all the more did Cadance spend her time by Celestia’s side, letting the space between them shrink with each passing day until they were beside one another and unwilling to move. And when the time came that Celestia kissed her, she didn’t even mind.

The first kiss she had known since Twilight was enough to trigger a wave of emotions, both bitter and sweet. Cadance knew she so desperately wanted to weep- but whether it be for relief or not she could not tell. But Celestia had dared to break that threshold and she had welcomed the presence, grateful to know she was loved even still. Perhaps it was the sign she’d been looking for, one now beckoning for her to come forward.

Celestia, to her credit, took note of the uncertainty on her partner’s face. “I shouldn’t have done that,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. It was too much.”

“It’s fine. I- I’m glad you did,” Cadance admitted. She scooted herself in closer, letting her head rest against that of her companion’s and letting their breaths flow entertwined. It would not be the same; their fire would be different, the pace and style in which they loved and knew one another could never hope to compare. But it could be good, and it could still be something happy. That was enough to make her wish for more. “You could kiss me again, if you feel like it.”

“I just might, once I feel a little braver,” Celestia murmured, and earning a giggle at the remark. “Cadance, I know it’s- I’m not trying to replace her, and- and I don’t mean to. But I want this. And I hope you do, too.”

It was only the beginning. It would begin small, uncertain, but it would help heal the emptiness- one moment, one kiss at a time. “So,” Cadance began, “We just gonna stay here and make out like a couple of horny teenagers? Or you feel like taking me somewhere?”

“There’s a new wine bar downtown I was thinking of visiting,” Celestia offered. “It’s rather fancy, too. I might even need to put on a nice dress before I go. You feel like joining me?”

Cadance could only laugh, feeling weight lift from her shoulders with each new chuckle. “Sure, she said, “Take a girl for a ride.”

Author's Note

And so I say goodbye to my two favorite girls.
I'll never write this pairing again. Not ever. I wish it had gotten a little more reception, but I'm glad I did it all the same.

Stay tuned for big things ahead. Enjoy.