Fertile Figments

Twilight Sparkle popped into existence in the ruins of the Castle of the Sisters. Without anypony else along, she could teleport where she wanted and avoid all the walking. Laden with saddlebags full of books and magical apparatus, she definitely wanted to spare herself the hike. There was little difference in the environment from the last time she'd explored the ruins. A slight overcast to the sky gave back the Everfree Forest some of its gloom, but the sounds of the woods remained peaceful.

The unicorn found the crumbled archway that served as the entrance to the enchanted mirror's chamber and descended the stairs, illuminating the dark well with her horn. Her telekinesis swept aside the lesser rubble on the stone steps, the first step to any project being a clean and well organized work area. That thought occupied her as she entered the room that held the artifact, and eager as she was to test the mirror itself, she was duty-bound to follow the first step to conclusion.

Twilight bid her horn's illumination to encompass the room and began seizing loose debris in her magical field, shuffling it off to a corner. Stones that had broken away from the masonry, the wooden shards of the furniture, the moth-eaten bits of cloth, the unidentifiable remains of whatever knick-knacks the room once contained, and the door she's unceremoniously ripped off of its hinges on her last trip, all made themselves into neat pile. A considerably large pile, she worried, but at least it was out of the way. She'd make a more permanent solution when she wasn't so wary of loose magic interacting with the mirror. Telekinesis and Light were simple cantrips that were far more likely to fail in the presence of a stronger magic than to affect that magic in any way, so they would have to do for now.

With the floor cleared, the magician spread out sturdy cloth blankets from her saddlebags, followed by the miniature library of books and collection of thaumaturgical implements she'd brought with her. She set down a candelabra, just in case her light spell was extinguished, and a box of snacks from Sugarcube Corner, because of course. Lastly, quills, ink, and blank scrolls, along with the actual relevant notes she'd made previously.

Twilight looked around. It wasn't the best laboratory she'd ever chosen to work in, but neither was it the worst. She'd set up a secret workshop in the Canterlot sewers, and Celestia had never found out about. This was better. It was satisfactory. With that, her preparations were complete, and she could get on to the main event. Holding herself in reserve while setting up, now she was practically buzzing as her mind checked it off from the mental list. Hooves clicking on the stone floor, Twilight skipped towards it with glee. The Mirror.

Ignoring it until now purely to keep herself focused, Twilight drank in the sight of it. The gold pony relief sculptures, the royal purple velvet curtain, the barely perceptible pressure of the arcane. She took in a deep breath and excitedly pulled away the cover to reveal the reflective surface.

"Wow..." Twilight exhaled as she examined her reflection.

Mares, on average, grew quite large when they were carrying a foal. The distinctive shape was hard to mistake for anything else, especially in the final months of a pregnancy, yet seemed perfectly suited to the pony form. Some mares were barely inconvenienced, but for needing a wider berth. For all the changes they went through, they could almost forget that they were pregnant.

Then there were the mares that had a more difficult time. Smaller mares. Larger foals. Twins. The simple fact that pony gestation could potentially last up to 12 months, even though the average was 11. However well suited the pony form was supposed to accommodate a pregnancy, these mares weren't just inconvenienced, they were uncomfortable. Too big to feel normal. Too big to forget. Too big to let anypony else forget. So big that every heavy hoofstep was a reminder of just how big.

Twilight's reflection was definitely the latter. Her tiny unicorn body hadn't been up to the task of the growth of her stomach. Too big for a single, she must be carrying twins, at least. The foals filled whatever space they could outwards and below, making a huge oblong sphere of their mother's middle. The image itself was enough to give her certain... longings.

Twilight's own experiments in illusion had made her rather familiar with this look, but that was exactly the reason she couldn't blame this debacle entirely on Angel Bunny's desires, whatever she'd managed to convey to Fluttershy. Without the pegasus, though, Twilight was able to take her time and more fully scrutinize the situation. Just the reflection had a level of detail that Twilight wasn't sure her own magic could easily match.

The mirror didn't just depict a version of Twilight with an oversized pregnant stomach. It was full of little touches and flourishes that made it seem as though this was a Twilight Sparkle who had lived through every moment of the change into her current state. The cheeks were just a bit more full, a little more softness around her harder edges where she'd been putting on pregnancy weight. The eyes were brighter in their intensity, as if she'd gained some sort of maternal power, but at the same time couldn't hide the sheer exhaustion of carrying those foals around and an inability to rest or relax comfortably. Her mane, tail, and even coat looked gorgeous, thick, soft, and shiny in the glow that all pregnant mares seem to get. Both mane and tail were longer as well, given extra time to grow, just as the rest of her, though still styled like her real world counterpart.

The actual Twilight had begun to pick up on those differences in her previous encounter with the mirror, but been distracted by Fluttershy, and then their transformation; another thing she'd need to look into. Thusfar, it hadn't yet taken effect and made the real match the reflected. It didn't take long for Twilight to come to a conclusion, however, and with her eyes on the mirror, she simply said "Yes."

Twilight felt like she passed through a gust of wind, though no movement of air was evident in the rest of the room. She immediately felt it, the change, the weight of it, the magic creeping in to make even the tiniest detail of the reflection into a reality. The transition was quick and almost unnoticeable, the experience of suddenly being something else more jarring than the actual change. And, Twilight suspected, likely because it was such a big change. She was pregnant again.

The now gravid unicorn smiled and took stock of herself, comparing with the mirror, and unable to perceive any difference. She certainly felt it, her body far heavier, her middle straining with its size, and everywhere from horn to hoof beginning to feel as though she really had been pregnant all this time. Soreness spread in her legs and back, warmth washing in from the foals she carried, and even slight pain from suddenly swollen teats.

Enlivened by the immediate success, she paced the room, taking as much time to enjoy her changed form as she did to formulate her next action. Testing her weight, her balance, the way her stomach shifted and followed slightly behind the drive of her movement, the shortness of her breath as her womb cramped her ribs and lungs. It was similar to enchantments she'd cast on herself many a time, but the seamless and effortless change and the lack of her senses, both mundane and magical, to detect anything amiss gave it a special quality. It felt real.

Twilight nodded to her match, her grin growing broader, and seized a quill in her magic field. "Mirror requires a conscious assent and vocalization to begin transformative effect," she dictated, the quill recording her words on a blank scroll. Giving affirmation of one kind or another was a common feature in many magical items. The added vocalization was security against being activated by stray thoughts. It wasn't until both herself and Fluttershy had verbally expressed interest in being a mother that the change had taken place.

Staying on task despite all the new sensations, Twilight followed the initial train of thought, planting herself in front of the mirror and commanding, "Show me my normal self." She waited, thinking that perhaps the entire artifact was voice-based. When no change occurred in the mirror's depiction, she tried a few variations:

"Give me pink hair!"

"I want to see what I look like with blue eyes."

"I wish to be taller."

"What would I look like with wings?"

With no noticeable effect, Twilight repeated some requests in modern runic, old runic, and even New Kingdom IIb. When that still produced no reaction, she sighed and shook her head. "I guess I couldn't expect it to be that easy..." she opined, though quite content that she had no immediate reason to dispel her current enchantment. The assent was verbal, but must not be dependent on language, she thought. After all, it had responded to a rabbit, and Angel Bunny was unlikely to know New Kingdom IIb.

Back to pacing, Twilight talked to herself, "This can't be all the mirror does... even supposing somepony wanted it to do just this... like some purple unicorn librarians... To make it do just this would mean it's capable of so much more, so why limit it? It's got to be a glitch in the spell matrix..."

The magician readied her crystal ball from the tools on the floor, held in front of her with magic. She gazed through, the internal sorcery of the crystal resolving the underlying construction of the artifact's enchantment. It was, as Twilight had expected, a colossal chunk of runic language that could take days to digest on its own, and, as she had feared, in a syntax she wasn't familiar with at all. "This could take a while..." she said to her reflection.

Twilight lay on her side, facing towards the mirror. Her gargantuan stomach loomed over, rising and falling with shallow breath. It had a slightly reddish cast to it, even under her shiny violet coat, the blush of her skin adding considerably color where her skin was stretched. Her dark mane splayed out around her, luxurious in its softness, but the thickness of each strand preventing it from falling out of place. A slight grin played upon her face, even when she wasn't thinking about it. She was the very picture of fertility and motherhood. Or a beached whale. Probably both.

Finding a comfortable spot to lie down was a chore all in itself, but Twilight had found a smooth groove worn in the floor that was just about perfect. When the weight of her belly had finally made standing too much to bear, she'd sat, and finally toppled over. With telekinesis, this impeded her very little from working, and she held the crystal ball, a runic codex, quill, and notes in her magical field.

Her pseudo-pregnancy was a constant, pleasantly awkward presence, always at the back of her mind. It did little to interrupt her concentration, but for one or two little oddities. The first, it moved. Or rather, the contents of her womb did. Two very distinct masses that moved independently. The shock had nearly driven Twilight into a panic when she'd first felt it, but she'd gradually managed to convince herself that the illusion really was just that good. Even the most powerful of wizards, be they ancient sages like Starswirl or living avatars of nature like Celestia, couldn't simply hide the manipulation of life and death behind illusion. Had the mirror been constructed from the souls of forsaken foals, or built to reshape reality in its entirety, it would leave easily identifiable traces. As it was, Twilight could even still sense the tenuous connection between the illusion and her true self, where she'd dispel the effect. Eventually.

The second oddity was that her sore teats really weren't just for show, either. They'd gone from sore, to painful, to aching, and then to leaking. It had been less concerning, but no less surprising, to find she was actually expressing milk, once she'd managed to overcome the obstacle of her belly to actually check. Real mare's milk, too, with nothing magical about it. How the illusion managed to turn her normal inert breasts into dairy factories was another fascinating effect she hoped she'd uncover in the decoding of the mirror's matrix.

Even with those distractions, Twilight was a smart cookie and made enough progress to humble any other ancient researcher. She'd nailed down the artifact's creation to the Early New Kingdom period, though likely long after the actual Smart Cookie. It predated New Kingdom IIb, much to her chagrin, missing all sorts of conveniences added to later runic languages. But at least, she agreed, it wasn't in some archaic Old Kingdom system from before common syntax was even agreed upon. The most ancient of artifacts could have enchantments that weren't even internally consistent, simply because the mage who created them hadn't bothered with a coherent structure.

The Early New Kingdom lacked the now common practice of including the name of the artifact in the spell matrix, so Twilight didn't get any easy leads on just what the mirror was supposed to be, but she finally had somewhere to start on the actual spellwork. She always knew this was going to be an ordeal, but knowing the translation required, she could begin to estimate just how big of an ordeal.

The natural stopping point in the research pulled her mind back to the present, and Twilight realized how hungry she was. All of the snacks she'd brought had mysteriously disappeared. The unicorn knew it wasn't quite the enigma she'd made it out to be, but deep in research her memory tended to gloss over exactly when she'd eaten them, when it didn't forget she had snacks at all. Furthermore, she'd failed to bring a mundane timepiece in her kit of magical tools, and the underground gave no indication of how far the day had progressed while her gaze was glued to the crystal ball.

Twilight thought it prudent to check how much time had passed, reluctant only because it meant an unassisted climb up the stairs while pregnant with a pair of heavy foals. She still not dared risk a teleport, not when combined with unknown magic. Teleporting required exact knowledge of what was transporting. An unresolved, unstable magical effect could muddle things up so that not everything arrived at the destination, or in the wrong order. She'd take the stairs.

Twilight spared a little time for cleanup, though her belongings were mostly staying behind with the mirror. The chamber had seen a thousand years still standing, so it must be safe enough for a few days. With her horn, she gathered her latest notes into a single satchel, and she turned her eyes to the mirror. There was a little less mystical wonder when the reflections matched, even though the librarian knew she wasn't in her true form. But it was still a sight to see, and her gaze lingered at the reflected unicorn so changed by pregnancy. A fanciful thought made her grin, and she said to the mirror, "It's too bad I can't go out like this without everypony noticing." She didn't notice the gust of air as she turned to the exit.

Smoozebuck.

Twilight lie on her back, looking up at the late afternoon sky. Not as late as she feared it would be, but she had another worry. Her counterspell hadn't worked. She'd drug her poor, bloated body out of the depths with the promise of a little relief from pregnancy, however bittersweet the parting, but her counterspell hadn't worked. For all the unicorn's knowledge, she could no longer find the minuscule separation that split her real and imagined selves. She must have been down there too long. The magic must have mutated. It had passed beyond her lone ability to detect. Her mind raced with the likely possibilities, but the movement of her false foals made it hard not to harbor the fear that this all had become a little too real.

"How much would that suck..." Twilight grumbled, distracting herself from her difficulties. "Pregnancy. Foals. None of the fun of getting there..."

Her compressed lungs made it hard to keep up with her rant, but drained by the hike up from the mirror chamber, it would have been harder to get up. So she kept ranting, "...no, no nice big stallion, aching to fill me up! No massive male to nail me to the bucking wall! No uncertainty! No tests! No growing! No giant warhorse to ride! No sexy stud to s~"

Twilight's mind intervened when her own ears detected the shrillness of her voice, prompting her into an embarrassed silence.

Good grief, she thought, this unicorn is horny.

Was that just Twilight's own unique proclivities, or was the enchantment having an effect as well? More than likely it was both. What shreds of her brain remaining rational gently reminded her that it was still just an illusion, however lifelike. There were none of the signs of spellcraft in the forbidden arts. This was all well in hoof for the apprentice of the Sun Princess, and all she really needed was a few more tools. Tools that were, unfortunately, still back at the library.

Twilight cursed her overconfidence. She could have easily brought a magic lens or an identification scroll or something that would give her the edge against this enchantment, but after only a single dispellation, she thought she wouldn't need it. And now she had to figure out how she was going to get back to the library in her current state...

Trying to reason away the ache in her legs, Twilight set off at pace for the edge of Ponyville, willing her momentum forward. She thought she knew what fatigue was until she had to drag herself through the forest carrying what seemed to be oversized foals. But even though she felt thoroughly and utterly exhausted, the librarian found a stride where each successive step seemed no more difficult than the last. It was, she supposed, perfectly logical to expect pony biology to adapt to carrying heavy loads long distances. While hardly easy, she knew she could keep going. It could actually be quite pleasant to just amble along through the woods.

Twilight considered heading to Fluttershy's to wallow while she sent the pegasus to the library for the tools she'd need to undo her enchantment. Fluttershy already knew about the mirror, so it wouldn't be quite the disaster of having to explain herself. But with the option open to sneak back to the library without anyone knowing of her mistake, the purple abyss of self-esteem had chosen stealth over convenience.

Ponyville was not a densely populated city. It boasted no close knit buildings, no paved streets with ample lighting, and the night life was confined to whatever domicile Pinkie Pie was occupying that evening. Sweet Apple Acres butted up right against the edge of the Everfree and covered Ponyville in two cardinal directions. The acreage of the farm exceeded that of the town itself, hill after hill of orchards stretching far enough to obscure even the spires of the town hall. For miles, there was nothing to disturb a pony but the tweeting of the birds and the wind in the apple trees. It would be foal's play to creep back in to town without notice. Keep to the orchards, duck behind a few buildings, and she'd be home.

But, of course, Twilight Sparkle had forgotten that she was Twilight Sparkle, and odd coincidence dogged her like a hoof fungus. In all that empty space, across the entire countryside, who should there be plodding along on the exact path Twilight had chosen for her secret trek back to the library? From the same direction Twilight Sparkle was headed, Applejack and Big McIntosh trotted down the dirt path.

Neither sibling was in a rush, but neither were the lanky Earth ponies any variety of slow. The pair undoubtedly had work to get to, and neither was likely to dawdle. The winding road and tree cover let them approach far too close before Twilight realized their presence, and she did the only thing she could think of to escape. The unicorn threw herself, pregnant bulk and all, into a copse of apple trees and shrubs. Her weight snapped branches and rustled leaves. Her shape got her stuck more than once. Her short legs left her struggling to right herself after the panicked leap. The unicorn was still trying to hide and making far too much noise to actually stay hidden when Applejack drawled, "Now what in the hay are you doin', Twalight?"

Twilight's mind scrambled to find something to explain what she was doing. She hadn't entirely hidden herself, and didn't know if Applejack required the entire explanation. The orange Earth pony looked annoyed but unsurprised below the rim of her Stetson. Big Mac loomed behind her, his face full of its usual impassivity.

Twilight wouldn't be able to fool the two apple farmers about some concern for the trees, nor would they approve of a spur of the moment experiment on their primary crop. The no-nonsense siblings would sniff out a lie, to be sure. She stammered some gibberish at the pair, starting, stopping, and starting again with the entire thesis of the magic mirror, but Applejack saved her the dissertation. "Ya'll feeling that nestin' instinct?"

Twilight blinked, her already derailed thoughts screeching to a halt. "W... What?"

Applejack shook her head, grinning casually, "T'ain't nothin' to be ashamed of, really. Auntie Turnover went crazier than a march hare ev'ry time she was pregnant, ain't that right, Mac?"

Twilight puffed the first syllable of "pregnant", while Mac gave his signature "Eyup."

Applejack offered Twilight a hoof out of the brambles, her strength untaxed as she hauled the pregnant unicorn up to the path. "Figure any little pony pregnant as you would go just a little crazy, but you prob'ly don't need me tellin' you that this ain't a good place for foalin'.

Twilight took a long look at Applejack, staring up into the mare's kindly, if bemused face. "I... I suppose not," she replied weakly.

"No fuss," Applejack responded with a shrug, now seemingly having fun. "We didn't pop nothin' did we? Y'all right?"

Twilight looked over and up at McIntosh, searching for some indication of what was going on. The handsome stallion remained thoroughly unreadable. "No, no, Applejack," she assured, herself as much as the other two, "I'm... We're all okay. I was just out... trying to stretch my legs."

Applejack nodded, as if Twilight had just imparted sage advice, "Prob'ly a good idea, a'fore the time comes. 'Til then, stay safe. Mac and I need to get back to it," the orange pony went on, punctuated by another "Eyup." from her brother.

Applejack turned and resumed her trot without a second glance. Mac did spare a glance, and a deeply rooted, "Bye." that left Twilight's cheeks burning in an altogether different way than a pregnant hike and death by embarrassment.

I want that stallion to do things to me, her baser instincts urged.

Twilight plodded on, deep in thought. Productive thought. Not horseplay with a red clydesdale. Nope. Nuh-uh. She had to reserve ample attention for the path in front of her, however, far too large to ignore her surroundings. Any trip or stumble would be exaggerated by her heavy, bulbous stomach, no matter how sturdy her four equine legs were.

The illusion was seriously testing her estimation of the mirror's power. Her "foals" kicked and fought for space within her cramped womb, and she could feel every bump inside and out, even growing in intensity as her hunger increased. The Apples acted like it was the most normal thing in the world to see Ponyville's librarian blown up like a blimp. Again and again, she had to remind herself that this was only a false image, however expertly crafted. Manipulating life, changing fates, and warping reality all left undeniable signs, however a pony tried to hide them. The only magic so naturally capable of hiding itself was illusion magic.

"Oh..." Twilight involuntarily halted to shove her hoof in her face, "Big giant DUH. A glamour..."

Given all of the other wonders the mirror had performed, it would have been odd to be incapable of a glamour. But now that Twilight had realized it, she knew exactly why her counterspell wasn't working. Layer upon layer of misdirection, powerful suggestion presenting a lie as the truth, probably a bit of her own desires and denials, all culminating in a perfect disguise. It is what she had asked for, wasn't it?

Applejack and Big Mac had taken one look at her ludicrously pregnant body and been ensorceled. The swollen, overdue unicorn in their sight was the truth of it, and their minds and the magic of the glamour had filled in the rest around it. Unless put to rigorous examination, they wouldn't have any suspicion Twilight hadn't been pregnant at all a few hours ago. And likely as not, they'd forget everything strange about the encounter. What must they have thought of her in that moment?

Twilight knew deep down that glamours weren't typically a nice thing to do to a pony. The Morals of Magic had hammered that lesson time and time again in magic kindergarten. Outside of entertainment, it was a just a fancy way to lie. Lying was all the more abhorrent when you did it to the Element of Honesty! But what could she have done? She hadn't set out to fool the Apple siblings into believing she was the most fertile thing to ever grace their farm.

On the other hoof, the glamour did negate the need for stealth. Twilight estimated she could still make the circuitous route she had planned to avoid detection, but she'd already been found out and wasn't out to test her endurance. She was hungry, tired, sore, and just wanted to get her pregnant plot home. A pony or two spying her farcical maternity would be an ultimately harmless amusement.