Letters to the Princess

High on a mountain, a stony peak surrounded by others, all dotted with spruce and pine, there was a cabin. Its walls were logs, felled from those same forests, and it perched on a windy outcropping so high that those incapable of flight would never be able to reach it.

It was a home for pegasi, not for unicorns. The only magic that ever lit the walls of their home was a safe, trustworthy gold, and it was never used to damage. Only to stir the soup, or to lift the kettle onto the flame.

There were no princesses, and there was no one around for a hundred miles. No one to hurt, no one to harm.

Nothing to fear.

At long last, Cozy Glow was safe.

Safe among the trees and the stones, too high even for the deer and mountain goats to venture. There was wood to chop, when she needed to do something physical. Boulders to punch until her hooves were bloody, if the thoughts were worse. But that was rare, now.

Here, she was…at peace.

Flurry was absent, sometimes. She had to visit her parents, and though there were no princesses on their mountain, the Crystal Empire still had two. One was just a little less often seen than the other.

But Cozy Glow remained, always safe. Always alone.

Officially, the Empress was dead. Had been dead for nearly eight years now after her final epic battle with Princess Flurry Heart. And the world was glad of it. Cozy was glad of it. The only pony who might have mourned her was right here alongside her.

“I was thinking,” Flurry Heart said, as she leaned over to press a kiss into the soft grey ringlets of her wife’s hair, “I wouldn’t mind getting a table for the garden.”

“For the garden?” Cozy tilted her head to the side.

“Yeah. The summers here are about two weeks long, but they’re beautiful while they last. We could get a table, set it up outside. Eat our dinner while we watch the sunset.” She took a bite of toast. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s a great idea,” Cozy replied. “We could make it ourselves. There’s a tree on the west plateau that looks like it might blow down soon. I can speed the process along, dry the wood.”

Flurry nodded, her blue eyes bright. “Or what about making it out of stone?”

“Stone?”

“So it won’t rot. Four-season table! I could do it, or we could get a hammer and chisel from somewhere and do it the old fashioned way. Make a real project out of it.”

Cozy Glow nodded, a smile spreading over her face. “The second option, please.”

“And I was wondering—”

Then there was a crack, like a whip, and Cozy bolted upright. A teleport. But no one knew where they where — no one but Flurry's father, who always wrote in advance when he came, and —

—And her.

She had told Flurry, she had told her this would happen, that Cadence would spill the beans — and that meddling creature would come sooner or later — but Flurry’s family was her weakness, and Cozy had vowed to accept her as she was. Warts and all.

Not that alicorns had warts.

So she had not protested — but now she was here, and there was no time for blame. Without even stopping to think, Cozy Glow snatched up a table leg as a makeshift spear and bolted out of the door, the name like a snarl ready on her lips. “Twilight Sparkle—”

And she saw her there, eyes wide as Cozy bore down on her. Tall and lavender, the regalia of sun and moon and stars scattered across her robes. Without Mama’s good taste to hide behind, she dressed like an ugly old wizard. Her mane flowed in an invisible wind, speckled with stars. Her eyes wide and wondering, as though she were blameless, as though she were not the stuff of nightmares — as though she had a right to be shocked when Cozy Glow levelled her spear and charged.

Though it was still ringed with the afterimage of her teleportation spell, the Princess of Friendship lit her horn again, and Cozy braced herself. She would be seized, then frozen, her autonomy stolen again, her mind trapped in a stony prison from which even Flurry would not be able to save her. Twilight Sparkle had been waiting for years to recapture her, itching for an excuse, and now she was come to deliver her own twisted justice all over again.

But there was one more snap of displaced air, and then the Princess was gone. The monster had come and gone, just like that, and left behind, where she had been, was…somepony.

Somepony who Cozy Glow had never thought she would see again.

The spear fell from her grip, clattered to the floor. Her mouth opened in a sob, and tears crowded into her eyes, fighting to be the first to spill.

“Hello, darling,” said Rarity. “I hear you’ve had…quite a time of it, since I’ve been away.”

The mare who had once been an Empress, whom thousands had dreaded and worshipped in equal measure, stood silent. Weeping helplessly, a foal once more.

Rarity smiled. Soft and gentle, full of forgiveness. Generosity. Just like that first time, in the bank, when she had pried the energy crystal from her grip. Her mane was gray now, her skin looser, her beauty less obvious — but she was still the same.

She had not changed.

“Twilight managed to find a cure after all,” Rarity said, tears in her own eyes. “Who would have thought?”

It was Flurry Heart, stepping out from the cabin, a smile as wide as the sun on her face, who broke the silence. “Rarity! I — I can’t believe…” she looked at her wife, who stood rooted in place. “Would you like to come inside? Both of you. I think…we could all use a cup of tea.”