The Princess of Redemption

Starlight sat on the edge of her seat and carefully watched the Princess peruse the document that magically levitated. As Starlight shifted uncomfortably in her seat, the only sound that could be heard in Twilight’s cavernous study was the gentle sound of parchment being turned and the occasional ‘hm’ from the Alicorn.

It was morning, the sun still low on the horizon, and the shafts of light had still yet to reach the front of the room where Twilight sat behind her gigantic writing desk. The same was not true for Starlight, who could feel the warm rays creeping up her back, making her feel even more uncomfortable in an already tense situation. To pass the time that seemed to be crawling by at the pace of an arthritic tortoise, she scanned the circumference of the room, taking in the magenta glow of Twilight’s sound proofing spell. She had originally planned to wait until the evening, for when Spike would arrange a dream meeting to present the action plan in its completion to the Princess, but upon waking that morning, she figured that there was no time like the present. Spike and the girls had the research task well in hoof, and while they were off in the Cloudsdale and Ponyville hall of records, she had little to do but wait, and the tension of that was killing her. Besides, Canterlot Castle was but a step away when you could teleport.

Eventually, Twilight finished reading the action plan. All of the points from the board were there, along with a paragraph or so explaining her reasoning behind each one. As Twilight rested the pages on the surface of her desk and removed her half-moon reading glasses, the headmare anxiously applied a vice like grip to both her knees. The Princess fixed her with hard stare, her expression neutral.

“Starlight, I’m sorry, but there’s no way I can sign off on this.”

The Unicorn nodded, desperately trying to keep the disappointment off her face.

“I see.” She responded, allowing her eyes to close for a second. “What is it? Not enough security measures?”

The Princess shook her head gravely.

“Too many.”

Starlight fixed her mentor with an expression of bewildered outrage, her eyes wide, her brow furrowed.

“Too...many...?” She repeated.

Twilight breathed deeply, tapping the tips of her hooves together.

“Starlight, this plan doesn’t read like reformation.” She reached over the desk and tapped the pages. “It reads like reprogramming.”

“But...but the safety of my staff!” Starlight stammered, not quite believing what she was hearing. “Of Equestria at large! How am I supposed to control them if I can’t-”

“You’re not supposed to control them at all,” Twilight cut her off gently but sternly. “You’re supposed to educate them. Aside from your counseling sessions here, I see nothing in this plan that’s working to that end.”

Starlight rose from her chair and paced around the room, trying and for the most part failing to keep a lid on the rage that was bubbling inside her.

“Okay, okay,” she said calmly, too calmly, “why don’t we go through the list and you can tell me the parts you take issue with.”

Starlight’s demeanor not lost on the Princess, she sighed and picked up the document once more.

“Okay, well let’s start with the first one. You want to tackle them one at a time?”

Starlight continued her pacing but looked up at Twilight.

“Yes. That seems reasonable to me. When they were working together they were a much bigger threat. They practically brought Equestria to its knees.”

“Listen to what you’re saying, Starlight.” Twilight said patiently. “When they were working together. That sounds like the beginnings of friendship to me. Do you really want to strip them of what little progress they’ve already made?”

“A friendship that is nakedly self-serving and a simple means to an end is hardly friendship, Twilight. I feel like I shouldn’t have to point that out to you, of all Ponies.”

“I said the beginnings of friendship.” Twilight countered. “Splitting them up will put you back at square one, and in addition you’ll have the uphill battle of none of them trusting you or the others an inch.”

“I see.” Starlight glowered. “And what, pray tell, am I supposed to do when the three of them are rampaging through the countryside powering Celestia knows what evil scheme? When Ponies lives are at risk?”

“If that should occur, we’ll fight them together, like we have countless times before. The power of friendship hasn’t let us down yet.”

“Not good enough, Twilight!” Starlight raised her voice. “Not good enough at all. By the time you’re aware of what’s going on, not to mention get here, the cost could be severe.”

There was a pause. The mares glared at each other. Finally, after a few moments, Twilight looked away.

“Let’s put a pin in that one for now then.” She said. “Let’s talk about this part; you don’t want them left alone at all?”

Starlight strode to the colossal windows of Twilight’s study and gazed out at Equestria’s rolling hills and valleys.

“The more time they’re left alone, the more time they have to plot. The more they plot, the more likely it is that we’re going to run into a problem.”

“Not giving them any down time whatsoever is akin to torture, Starlight.”

Starlight’s head whipped around.

“That...” She swallowed back her fury. “That is one heck of a thing for you to say to me.”

“I’m not accusing you of anything,” The Princess attempted to placate. “I’m just saying, they need to have a chance to relax with their own thoughts. Otherwise you’re never going to get through them.”

“And how well did that work out when Discord got the gang together, hmm?” Starlight returned her attention to scowling out of the window. “They had plenty of alone time out there in the Equestrian wilderness, even the Lord of Chaos himself couldn’t keep them under control.”

“Control was never Discord’s strong suit.” Twilight commented. “If he’d been less foolhardy, and had better planning and help, he might have achieved what we’re trying to do here.”

“Are you joking? His plan all along was to set them up like bowling pins for you and your friends to knock over! He didn’t once think about redeeming any of them!”

Starlight returned to pacing the breadth of the room.

“I didn’t say it was perfect.” Twilight conceded. “I’m just saying, in some weird kind of way, some of his ideas were on the right track. It’s just his end goal and his execution that was terrible.”

Starlight could make no reply, just continue her traipsing.

“Maybe if he’d had help.” Twilight continued. “Maybe if he’d consulted with his friends. Maybe we could have guided him. Maybe we could have really achieved something with those three back then.”

Starlight opened her mouth as if she was going to say something, but seemingly she thought better of it and closed it again.

“I see.” She said after a couple more lengths. “Anything else?”

Twilight once again sighed.

“Only this.” Twilight held up the page and pointed at it. “This so called ‘Killswitch Contingency’. There’s no way I’m integrating this into their release.”

“That was to only be used as a last resort,” Starlight fumed. “A final failsafe. Just something we could use to stop them in their tracks if we absolutely had to.”

“You’d really try to teach them about friendship while you’ve got a guillotine dangling over their heads?” Twilight said, her hooves on her desk and rising from her chair. “Come on, Starlight. You think they’ll be responsive to your teachings?”

“I wasn’t planning on actually telling them about it.”

“That doesn’t make it any better.” Twilight walked around her desk and stood beside Starlight’s angry pacing. “If anything, that makes it worse. Friendship begins with trust. We can’t bring them into the light if we employ tools of darkness.”

Starlight snorted a cold, humorless laugh.

“Oh, very poetic, Twilight.” She said as she passed her mentor by. “You talk as though I’m an executioner. I’m just talking about returning to the state they’re in now, a state that, I might add, you put them in.”

She jabbed an accusing hoof in the Princess’ direction on her way back. Now it was Twilight’s turn to feel twinges of anger in her chest.

“Because back then we had no choice! Now I have one, and it’s time for them to have one. I’ve never tried to limit the freedom of any of the creatures I’ve helped redeem, not with Discord-”

“And look how well that turned out. What are we at, two betrayals?”

“-and not with you.”
“YOU SHOULD HAVE!” Starlight bellowed, wheeling on her friend, her face twisted into a scowl of white-hot rage and the first sheen of tears coating her eyes.

Twilight was stunned into an open-mouthed silence, her ears flattened against her head. Starlight pressed her advantage.

“You should have.” She repeated, her statement seemingly as much a surprise to herself as to her friend. “You got lucky with me. What would have happened if I hadn’t been receptive to your friendship teachings? I was right in your home, Twilight, amongst your friends and family. What would have happened if I’d gone back to my old ways? What would have happened if I’d gone after revenge again?”

Twilight placed a hoof on her friend’s shoulder.

“And would you have been so receptive to my teachings if you knew there were strings attached?”

Starlight fell silent, her eyes stinging.

“We need to have faith, Starlight. Just like I had in you. And it’s faith-” The Princess nodded in the direction of the papers on the table, “-that’s sorely lacking from your plan.”

Starlight’s eyes fell to the floor. Her pacing had ceased and she resisted the urge to sniff as the Princess made her way back to her desk.

“I am open to compromise though,” Twilight said as she sat herself back down in her chair. Her words snapped Starlight back to attention.

“Go on.” She said in a quiet, sad voice as she too returned to her chair.

“Drop the ‘killswitch’, let them have a little bit of privacy, and show me some friendship activities that might actually help them build healthy relationships,” Twilight counted off.

“Friendship activities?” Starlight repeated, cutting in. “What kind of activities are you looking for?”

“I don’t know,” Twilight sighed, glancing to the ceiling. “You’re the headmare. Draw on your lesson plans and find something appropriate.”

“You want me to start a Buckball team with them?” Starlight asked, her voice devoid of emotion.

“I don’t know, why not?” Twilight shrugged. “It’s something. Whatever you think is best.”

Starlight once again snorted a laugh and shook her head slightly.

“If you can do all that,” Twilight continued, “then I’ll agree to you tackling them one at a time.”

“I see.”

“You’re probably right,” Twilight sighed. “The benefits of having them together are far outweighed by the risk. Probably best to just start them from scratch.”

“Okay then.” Starlight replied, still not showing any emotion or meeting her mentor’s gaze.

A long silence permeated the room. Twilight stared sympathetically at her friend, who still wasn’t able to look her in the eye. She hadn’t meant to crush her, but her plan... it was just completely in the wrong direction.

“Has Spike sent you any messages today?” Starlight broke the silence suddenly.

“Spike? Ah, no. Not that I’m aware of.”

“He will, at some point. He’ll ask to set up a dream meeting for tonight. When he does, tell him I’ve already cancelled it.”

“O-oh. Okay.”

“I’m going to need an extra day to discuss these changes with my team and to draw up a new plan.” Starlight said simply.

“I understand.”

“Well, if that’s everything,” Starlight said flatly, rising from her chair.

“Starlight,” The Princess said softly as she did so. “I know you’re upset and how hard you worked on this. But I want you to be their teacher, not their warden. If that was what I wanted, I wouldn’t have asked someone as talented as you. I’d have just had one of my guards do it.”

Starlight paused on her journey to the door, but said nothing, just shooting the Princess a pained look. As she reached out for the door handle, Twilight spoke again.

“Starlight. I’m sorry, but there’s something else. I really don’t mean to pile on you right now, but there’s another problem.”

The headmare slowly retracted her hoof from the door, giving Twilight a dark look. Twilight looked away, guiltily.

“I need you to take Apple Bloom off this project.”

“What?!” Starlight gasped, turning her whole body towards the Princess. “You are joking. Why?!”

“I’m not at liberty to say.” Twilight squirmed.

Starlight glared at her.

“What, just Apple Bloom?” She growled. “Why just her? What possible reason-”

She stopped as the realization dawned on her.

“Applejack.” She chuckled. “You told their sisters about their involvement. Applejack doesn’t want her sister doing anything dangerous.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that hypothesis,” Twilight said carefully.

“You know as well as I do that two Crusaders is the same as no Crusaders!” Starlight argued. “Without Apple Bloom, at best Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo’s hearts won’t be in their work, at worst, they’ll just quit the project too, and I wouldn’t blame them.”

“Please just take her off the project.” Twilight pleaded.

“No.” Starlight replied.

Twilight shot her friend an agonised expression.

“You made me the leader of this project, Twilight. If I’m to run it, I’ll do so as I see fit. The Crusaders are my staff, not yours. Tell Applejack that if she has a problem with her sister’s job, then come and see me. My office hours are nine to six.”

The Unicorn twisted the door handle.

“Until tomorrow, your highness.”

With that, the Unicorn opened the door to Twilight’s study, ripped it through the magical barrier, and slammed it shut behind her.

Twilight placed a hoof to her forehead and slowly dragged it across her face, momentarily distorting her features as she emitted a low groan.

“That went well.” She said to the empty room.

Starlight stared grimly out of her office window. It was early evening, and she’d spent the day alternating between pacing, raging, worrying, and a few blissful minutes where she allowed herself to think about Trixie.

The others would be back soon, and no doubt Spike and Scootaloo would be wondering why the night’s dream meeting had been cancelled. The four friends had been divided into two teams, the aforementioned having headed to Cloudsdale to consult the records there, Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle took Ponyville. The headmare moved away from the window and continued her activity of wearing a groove into her office carpet.

Twilight Sparkle. Twilight Tartarus damned Sparkle. It had taken her five minutes to tear apart a plan that had taken her two fretful days to put together. A plan that she’d requested. If this was the way she was going to play this, why not just write the damn thing herself? And that was before she even got into how it had been torn apart.

How dare she. Torture? The whole meeting had made her feel like she was the monster, the criminal, the one who needed correcting. Her eyes stung once again at the memory, and she scowled at her blackboard that still bore the chalk writing of the original plan. She just wanted to protect her staff, her students, everypony. That was the essence of the project. Wasn’t it?

‘This is the kind of thing you’d have come up with when you were still in that village,’ a nasty little voice in her mind piped up.

Starlight raised her hoof and only just stopped herself from sweeping her desktop furniture to the floor, and flipping the table. If she was being completely honest with herself, it was Fern who made her stop.

She wasn’t a monster. She wasn’t. Her eyes welled up with tears. She didn’t want to be a prison warden, a brainwasher, not again. She hadn’t wanted to be that the first time.

At least that’s what she told herself.

A knock at her door interrupted her thoughts. She frantically wiped at her eyes with the backs of her hooves and prayed that there was no lingering redness. She took several deep breaths before she answered.

“Come in.”

Her voice sounded hollow, weak and hoarse. She hoped against hope that Spike and the girls wouldn’t notice, but she knew her chances of that were slimmer than Celestia’s rap collection.

The door opened and Spike stepped inside, closely followed by the Crusaders.

“We’re back,” he said unnecessarily. “I’m afraid we don’t have much-”

The Dragon stopped as he noticed Starlight’s puffy swollen face, and the way her eyes were fixed to the floor. She was leaning against her desk, forelegs folded in front of her in a huffy display.

“Are you okay?”

Starlight didn’t reply, she simply gestured to the chairs that were still there from their previous meeting. Spike and the girls exchanged a few tense glances, but silently took their seats.

Starlight strode to the blackboard and picked up a piece of chalk.

“I took the beginning of the action plan to Twilight this morning,” she said croakily. “She didn’t much like it.”

The Unicorn drew a line through ‘Left alone for as little time as possible’, and ‘The Killswitch Contingency’. She threw the chalk back into the holder and took a step back so the others could see. She heard, if not a series of gasps, that at the very least a few sharp intakes of breath.

Starlight stared at the blackboard for a moment. Nocreature spoke. The moment became several.

“So where does that leave us?” Sweetie Belle asked eventually.

“It leaves us up the creek,” Spike muttered. “Without a paddle or a damned boat.”

Starlight engulfed the blackboard in her magic suddenly. When every part of the board had been completely covered in her turquoise aura, she scowled a scowl of effort. Slowly, her magic began to contract, and the board began to buckle. A bead of sweat ran down the headmare’s cheek. Then, with a deafening cracking and splintering sound, the board collapsed as her magic shrank, and within seconds, the board, stand, chalk and all was reduced to kindling.

Spike and the Crusaders looked on in fearful astonishment. Starlight deactivated her magic. The wooden splinters fell into a small, neat pile on the floor. She strode around her desk, sat at her chair and regarded her staff properly for the first time since they entered the room.

“Apologies.” She said flatly. Her comment did little to assuage the others’ shocked expressions, so she ploughed on.

“Spike, I’m sure you’re wondering why the dream meeting scheduled for tonight has been cancelled.”

“Huh?” Spike was suddenly snapped out of staring at the pile of shards that was until recently a blackboard. “Oh... oh, yeah.”

“Well, I cancelled it, because I wanted an extra day to prepare. Twilight didn’t really care for any of the plan, but we’ve reached a compromise; we drop the killswitch, let them have a little downtime and add some friendship building activities, and she’ll agree to us tackling them one at a time.”

“She wanted them released all together?!” Apple Bloom cried, aghast.

“Yes, she did.” Starlight monotoned. “I had to fight to get that left on the table.”

Spike inflated his cheeks and blew the air out slowly in the direction of the ceiling. Starlight continued.

“Twilight said that watching them twenty-four-seven would be...”

Starlight drifted off, anger momentarily contorting her face. The four creatures she was addressing leaned forwards, intrigued.

“...It doesn’t matter what she said.” Starlight recovered, her face returning to a neutral expression. “The point is, they’re going to need some time away from prying eyes if they’re going to be able to relax and trust us enough for the lessons to take hold.”

“Yeah, but if we’re not watching them...” Scootaloo muttered. The others looked in her direction.

“What?” She threw her hoof out in front of her. “Cozy Glow had the run of the school when Twilight was in charge, and that ended with Starlight trapped in a magical force-field and the three of us Crusaders locked in the janitor’s closet.”

“Be that as it may,” Starlight replied coldly, “that’s the way Twilight wants it done, so that’s the way we’ll do it.”

She paused, making sure nocreature else had anything they wanted to add.

“And, for much the same reasons, we’re dropping the Killswitch Contingency too.”

The tension in the room was palpable.

“So...” Spike started, desperately trying to be as tactful as possible, “what do we do when they...get out of control?”

“We hope that they don’t.” Starlight replied simply. “We give them reasons to trust us and keep them busy with friendship building activities. If all else fails, we get Twilight.”

“I can see some fairly obvious flaws with that.” The Dragon responded somberly.

“As can I, Spike,” the headmare smiled joylessly. “As can I. But, like before, Twilight refuses to integrate it into their release, so it’s out of the window.”

“Did she say why?” Sweetie enquired.

“Just that it would jeopardize what we’re trying to achieve here. They’ll never respond to us if they know there’s a sword dangling above their heads.”

“This is ridiculous.” Spike lifted himself out of his chair and stormed to the window. “She asks the impossible!”

Starlight sighed. She knew exactly how the Dragon felt, but what could she say? She didn’t want to make her team feel as wretched as she did. It seemed like they were all in agreement during their last meeting, weren’t they? Again, she began to second guess herself. Spike certainly seemed to be in the same frame of mind she was. The Crusaders though...she wondered if they were just going along with her because she was headmare.

She massaged her temples with her hoof-tips.

“It’s not impossible.” Starlight said unconvincingly. “It’s just going to be more difficult.”

There was another long silence. Spike stared despondently out of the window, leaning against the frame.

“Well,” Sweetie Belle disrupted the quiet, “the Killswitch was only ever supposed to be a last resort, right? If all goes well, then we won’t even miss it.”

“Right,” Starlight confirmed, a glimmer of hope fluttering through her mind. “Right, so this is still do-able. We just need to make sure that we stay vigilant, and plan a way to get to Twilight as quickly as possible if we have to.”

“I can help with that,” Spike said, still staring out of the window. He held up his golden amulet. Then, as the mares watched, two portals opened up in the room, one in front of Spike’s chair, one beside Spike. The Dragon stepped through one, appeared instantly out of the other, and sat back down in his chair. Starlight, Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle looked on, impressed, while Scootaloo smiled knowingly.

“EEA medallion.” The Dragon half-truthed. “I requisitioned it from Twilight. Thought it would come in handy.”

“It’s how we got to Cloudsdale,” Scootaloo announced. “It’s pretty cool.”

“That’s a good start,” Starlight said. “As long as we make sure that they don’t know you have that, then you can be our new failsafe.”

The others nodded.

“Whut’s this about friendship activities?” Apple Bloom asked after a moment, raising her hoof.

“I’m not exactly sure,” Starlight sighed, her mood plummeting. “I guess we just treat them like they were any other students here. Team building exercises, nature walks, buckball, that sort of thing.”

Spike snorted a laugh.

“I know, I know. We’ve got until tomorrow night to think about it.” Starlight glanced in his direction. “How did everycreature get on digging up information on Cozy Glow?”

There was a series of frowns and shaking of heads from the Ponies and Dragon.

“Not good.” Scootaloo grumbled. “Nothing in the Cloudsdale hall of records. We went back twenty years, not one mention of anypony named ‘Cozy Glow’.”

“It was the same for us.” Apple Bloom agreed. “Nothing at all.”

“I’m not all that surprised,” the headmare muttered. “We don’t even know if Cozy Glow is her real name. In fact, the more I think about it, it probably isn’t.”

“Can you three tell us anything about her cutie mark?” Spike asked suddenly. “That’s your girls’ specialty, right?”

There was a pause, as the Crusaders looked at each other.

“Well, assumin’ that it’s not a fake, it’s a Chess piece.” Apple Bloom replied.

“Specifically, a rook,” Sweetie Belle elaborated. Apple Bloom shot her friend a sour look that happily went unnoticed. She didn’t know a whole lot about fancy games like chess.

“It’s a piece that can move any number of squares horizontally or vertically,” Sweetie continued. “It also has the unique ability to trade places with the king under certain conditions, in a move known as ‘castling’.”

“Right,” Starlight said patiently. “But what does a rook cutie mark signify?”

“Well, if this was anypony other than Cozy Glow, I’d say it’s because Chess was her calling.” Sweetie replied. “However, with her, I’m guessing it’s a metaphor. It probably signifies that she’s a master strategist.”

“That’s certainly in keeping with our experiences with her so far,” Starlight nodded. “Anything else you can tell me?”

“In some cultures, the castle is a symbol of strength or robustness.” Scootaloo cut in. “It could refer to that.”

Apple Bloom glanced between her two friends.

“Have you girls been researchin’ her cutie mark?” She almost whined. “I didn’t know we wuz supposed to be doin’ that!”

“I just had a quick glance into it,” Sweetie Belle coughed.

“There’s only so many times you can fail to find the name ‘Cozy Glow’ in birth records before you get bored.” Scootaloo shrugged. “Sorry, AB.”

“Never mind that,” Starlight interjected. “That part about strength is interesting. It makes sense, she was seemingly able to shrug off Tartarus like it was nothing. I can’t think of many foals who’d be able to do that.”

“That would suggest that we’re gonna have a tough time getting through to her.” Spike frowned.

“Maybe.” Starlight replied, touching her forehooves together. “Maybe with the old plan. I think that’s what Twilight was trying to tell me.”

Starlight looked around the other creatures. They were all staring at her intently, looking for guidance. She suddenly felt extremely ill-equipped for the task before her. Once again, she jabbed at her temples.

“Ok.” She said. “It’s getting late and we still have a lot to do tomorrow if we’re not going to get too far behind schedule. There’s just one more thing I wanted to bring up before we all turn in for the night.”

The creatures present continued to stare at her expectantly.

“Twilight had one more bombshell that she dropped on me during our meeting.” She paused, wondering how best to phrase her statement.

“She told me she wants me to remove one of you from the project.”

“What?!” The Crusaders gasped. “Who?!”

“Apple Bloom.” Starlight sighed.

“Me?!” Apple Bloom cried, her voice cracking. “Why?!”

“She refused to say.” Starlight said evenly. “I have my suspicions though.”

“Does she think ah’m not up to the job?” Apple Bloom moaned, beginning to tear up. “Ah don’t understand-”

“If Apple Bloom’s off the project, we are too!” Scootaloo snarled.

“Yeah!” Sweetie agreed. “The Crusaders are a package deal!”

“Woah, woah, woah, slow down.” Starlight soothed. “First of all, Apple Bloom, I don’t think it has anything to do with Twilight’s confidence in your abilities. She was all for the idea when I first told her you three were my first choice two days ago. Secondly, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle, I applaud your loyalty to your friend, and I anticipated that this would be how you’d feel. That’s why I refused.”

“You refused a request from the Princess?” Spike raised an eyebrow.

“You bet your hide I did.” Starlight gave the Dragon a half smile. “Nopony hires and fires my staff but me.”

“Fair play.”

“But ah still don’t understand why...” Apple Bloom sniffled.

“Well, I find it highly suspicious that this comes immediately after one of the Princess’ regular meet ups with her friends...” The headmare prompted. She waited patiently as realization swept over the room.

“Ohhh,” Apple Bloom groaned, rolling her eyes. “My sister.”

“Like I say, I don’t know that for sure, but that’s what my bits would be on, yes.” Starlight confirmed. “To be completely honest with you, I was in two minds about whether to bring it up at all, but we’re all in this together, I owe it to you girls – and to you, Spike – to let you know what’s going on.”

“Mah sister doesn’t git to tell me what ah can an’ can’t do!” Apple Bloom raged.

“No, she doesn’t.” Starlight confirmed. “Don’t worry, nopony’s taking you off the project.”

“Still though. Applejack’s gonna get a piece of my mind, no mistake.”

“I would urge you not to do that.” Starlight said quietly. “Twilight didn’t tell me why she wanted you off the project for a reason, and while it seems that we’ve got the whole thing figured out, we don’t know for definite. Let your sister come to me if she wants to discuss the matter, okay?”

Apple Bloom folded her forelegs in front of her huffily.

“Fine.” She harumphed.

“Right then. This has been a disappointing day, but I’m sure that this is only the first of many setbacks on the road ahead. If we can keep it together to weather this, then I’m sure we can weather all of them. For tomorrow, cook up some plausible friendship activities for me. We’ll see if we can integrate them into the three’s rehabilitation. Thank you all. Dismissed.”

The creatures nodded dejectedly, and slowly filed out of the room.

Trixie stretched out in her hammock and yawned deeply. Her horn glowed a pale pink and the novel that was floating in front of her face turned a page. It was a story about a crime solving magician with a penchant for seducing glamourous assistants. It was called ‘Rabbit in a Hat’ and it was good stuff. Just the type of thing to snuggle up in bed with a cup of chamomile while the wind howled around your tiny home, while the first pitter-patter of rain began to beat against your roof.

The first day as acting headmare had gone easily enough. Honestly, Trixie didn’t know what her friend was complaining about. All you had to do was delegate, easy-peasy. True, she may have skim read some of the instructions that Starlight had provided her with, but she got the gist of things. As long as the building wasn’t on fire at the end of the day, Trixie would call that a great and powerful win.

As the rain began to grow in intensity and just as the Unicorn’s eyelids were beginning to get heavy, there was a knock at her door. Trixie rolled her eyes. She gave herself thirty seconds or so before she slowly closed her book. Her face contorted into a moue of dissatisfaction. She briefly considered the possibility of pretending to be asleep, but realized that curiosity would not allow her to ignore her visitor.

She kicked herself out of her bed in irritation and plodded to her door. She opened it a crack, and spied the pink and purple outline of Starlight.

“You again?” She said in mock annoyance, despite a grin crawling its way onto her face. She closed her door again to remove the chain from the lock. “Checking up on me, are you? Well, the first day of acting headmare went swimmingly, so there’s no need to-”

She opened the door fully and cut herself off as she took in her friend’s appearance properly for the first time. She was looking disheveled, meek, not like the Starlight she knew at all. She was looking away, somewhere at the ground, one of her forelegs clutching the other. Worse still, her face was red and puffy, and there was a sheen of tears coating her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Trixie asked quickly, concern creeping into her voice. Her air of cocky superiority dropped immediately.

“H-hey, Trixie,” Starlight croaked. “It’s been a really rough day, and I was hoping...hoping...”

That was as far as the lilac Unicorn got before she broke down into sobs. Trixie stood frozen for one horrible moment before she dashed down the steps to her caravan and threw her forelegs around her friend.

“What happened?” She whispered into Starlight’s ear. “Are you okay?”

Starlight looked into her friend’s eyes for a moment. They were wide pools of purple that were framed by a face that was contorted with concern. Starlight didn’t reply, she just hugged Trixie close and continued to cry, her head resting on the blue Unicorn’s shoulder.

“Shh, it’s ok. It’s ok.” Trixie soothed. “Come on, come inside. Tell me everything that happened.”

Somewhere in Starlight’s mind, even amid all the stress and upset, she marveled at Trixie’s ability to become the perfect listener when it really mattered. Even her smug third-pony self-references had temporarily ceased. She supposed it was what made her such a good counselor.

The pair awkwardly made their way up Trixie’s steps still hugging, Starlight still blubbing, and Trixie hoofed the door closed behind them.

“Okay, you just wait here for two seconds -” Trixie said softly, gently prising herself out of Starlight’s grip. Starlight allowed her to do so, and once she was free Trixie darted to the back of the caravan and began to rummage around in the area under her hammock. At length she produced two worn looking bean chairs, and tossed them haphazardly on the floor.

“Here, you take a seat,” she said kindly, “and I’ll put the kettle on.”

Starlight nodded feebly and ran her nose over the back of her blazer sleeve. She clumsily flopped into one of the beanbags while Trixie hastily pottered about in what could laughably be described as the ‘kitchen’. After a few minutes, during which Starlight attempted to get her emotions under control and cease her sniffling, Trixie returned with two mugs of tea. She floated one to Starlight, who gratefully accepted it in her own magic, before sinking into her own chair. The blue Unicorn gave her friend a few moments to sip her chamomile and gather her thoughts before she spoke.

“What happened?” she said gently.

Starlight was silent for a few moments as she stared into her mug of cloudy yellow liquid.

“I, um... I took an action plan to Twilight. You know, about that thing we spoke about last night?”

“Hm hm.”

“And, er...well, she didn’t much like it.” Starlight smiled a sad smile. “To tell you the truth she tore it apart.”

While Starlight was staring into her tea, Trixie took the opportunity to scowl and shake her head slightly. Twilight Sparkle. She might’ve known.

“I see. What did she say?”

Starlight blinked several times as fresh tears coated her eyes.

“She...she said...” She trailed off as sobs shook her body. Trixie extended a foreleg and lightly placed a hoof on her friend’s shoulder.

Starlight took several deep breaths before continuing.

“She said that my security measures were too much. She said I was trying to reprogram them, not rehabilitate them. She said...”

More tears. This time they rolled down her cheeks. Trixie began to feel anger bubbling up in her chest. Twilight trotting Sparkle.

“She said that parts of it were like torture for them.”

At this Trixie’s mouth hung open.

“T-torture?” She stammered. “What was it she said that about?”

“I had a part where I said that they shouldn’t be left alone. Ever. Except for maybe when they’re asleep.”

“Right.” Trixie replied, furrowing her brow. “And the torture part?”

Starlight looked up.

“That’s it. They wouldn’t be able to relax, to be alone with their own thoughts, to-”

“Plot the downfall of everything and everypony we hold dear?” Trixie cut in.

Starlight fell silent once again for a few moments.

“She’s right though. They’d never listen to friendship lessons if they couldn’t have at least some downtime.”

“And of course, dumping them in Tartarus or encasing them in stone is perfectly ethical.” Trixie muttered.

Starlight snorted, then instantly regretted it and sniffed loudly. Trixie rummaged around in a nearby box and produced a small box of tissues. Starlight effusively took one and blew her nose into it, producing a noise not unlike a plate of beans being sucked up a vacuum cleaner.

“There was a contingency plan I had too,” Starlight continued. “Something that we could have used to turn them back into stone quickly if we had to. Twilight hated that.”

“It sounds like a sensible idea.” Trixie replied sardonically. “Of course she did.”

Starlight sniffled as yet again she began to break down.

“She said that...we’d never get anywhere with them if they had that kind of threat dangling over them. The whole thing left me feeling like I was the monster.”

Starlight hastily placed her tea on the floor of the caravan and buried her face in her hooves. Trixie too put her drink down and snorted in frustration before lifting herself up and placing herself back down on Starlight’s bean bag. She threw her forelegs around her friend, and Starlight found herself with her face engulfed in the soft blue fur of Trixie’s chest. The headmare slowly withdrew her hooves from her face. If it wasn’t for the fact that she was so upset, this would be nice.

“You listen to me, Starlight.” Trixie said softly but sternly. “You are not a monster. You’re my best friend and the headmare of the school of friendship. The plan you wrote was you trying to protect everypony.”

“Was it?” Starlight gave a muffled reply. “Maybe I wanted control. Maybe I haven’t changed since I was the leader of that village-”

“You know that isn’t true.” Trixie almost snapped, cutting her off. “You’ve come so far since then. You tried to offer Chrysalis an out back when we all went to the hive, remember? Would a monster do that?”

Starlight remained silent for a few moments, frozen in Trixie’s embrace.

“I don’t know...” She mumbled.

“Yes you do.” Trixie smiled. “You’re no monster. And Twilight Sparkle should be ashamed for making you feel this way.”

“Oh Trixie...” Starlight cried. “I... I destroyed my blackboard!”

Trixie looked incredulously at the top of her friend’s head as Starlight convulsed into sobs once more.

“You...destroyed your blackboard?”

“I... crushed it with my magic!” The Unicorn wept. “Right in front of everypony! My poor blackboard! It didn’t deserve that!”

“Shh, shh. It’s ok. You were upset. It’s just a blackboard. We’ll get you a new one. A better one. I promise.”

‘And I know exactly who’s going to pay for it.’ Trixie thought to herself silently. The very next chance she got she was going to have words with that irksome Alicorn.

“Trixie...” Starlight said softly. “Is...is there any chance I could stay here tonight, please? I can sleep here on the bean bags.”

Trixie was taken aback for a second. It was strange seeing Starlight so vulnerable. She was usually the one who was cool headed, the voice of reason. Except for when she got angry, that was. The blue Unicorn smiled down at her friend.

“Of course you can.” She spoke. “But not on the bean bags. You take the hammock; I’ll take the bags.”

“No, no, Trixie, I can’t barge you out of your own bed-” Starlight said, looking up at her friend.

“It’s fine,” Trixie smiled, cutting her off. She looked into Starlight’s face, the first time she’d seen it since they started hugging on the bag. It was tear-steaked and snotty, but still, her shining eyes were enough to make her breath catch in her throat.

“Ah...” Trixie stumbled, disguising her hesitation with a tiny cough. “I insist. You need a proper bed for tonight, after the day you’ve just had.”

Starlight sighed deeply, realizing that it was useless to argue.

“Thank you, Trixie.”

“Think nothing of it.”

Trixie released Starlight and the pair awkwardly scrabbled out of the chairs. Starlight clambered into the hammock, and Trixie retrieved her tea for her.

“You should finish this. It’ll help you sleep.” She said, passing the mug to Starlight.

“Thank you.” The lilac Unicorn replied, accepting the tea and draining it. “You, um...you’re my best friend too. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”

Trixie hid her blush by arranging the beanbags on the floor into a makeshift mattress.

“Anytime, Starlight. Good night.”

“Good night.”