One of Our Twilights is Missing

Chapters

Code: Wandering Star
The First Guard and the Finest Student
Information Gathering for Fun and Profit
Welcome, Sun-and-Star
Coming to a Head of State

Code: Wandering Star

It began quietly, by design. A bubble of silence, a carefully placed note, and before either of those, subtle adjustments to the guard patrol routes. They did provide the promised boost to efficiency, but they also happened to leave the windows of the royal suite unobserved for just long enough.

That hole took place in the wee hours of the morning, when only the Night Guard and other nocturnal professions of varying degrees of legitimacy were up and about. Including but not limited to students at the School for Gifted Unicorns cramming for exams.

And when all the meticulously scheduled pieces came together, the owl-silent wings of a librarian carried her up and away into the first hint of dawn.

A few hours later, the situation went from quiet to very, very loud.

Homesickness was a funny thing, especially when home was both easily accessible and impossibly far away. Sunset planned on staying in the human world even after graduation—she wasn’t sure what strings the principals had pulled to get her legitimate documentation and she was happier not knowing—but there was something comforting about being near the portal even when she had no intention of using it. Especially on a beautiful Saturday for a beautiful picnic on Canterlot High’s beautiful front lawn with the beautiful—

Twilight offered a sympathetic frown. “Embarrassing memory?”

“Something like that.” Sunset cleared her throat and tried to will the blush off her face. “”So, how are things with Timber?”

The frown deepened as Twilight glowered at the cole slaw. “I’d really rather not talk about it.”

Sunset’s own gaze dropped to her paper plate. “Oh.”

And, because apparently the universe didn’t feel that was awkward enough, two armored centurions straight out of the Roaman legions chose that moment to emerge from the base of the Wondercolt statue. They marched up to the picnic blanket with hardly any stumbling and loomed over the girls, the matching pitiless neutrality on their faces as menacing as the spears they clutched.

“Twilight Sparkle of Ee-arth?” said one.

Sunset and Twilight shared a perplexed look before turning back to the soldiers. “Uh…” said Twilight.

The other soldier glanced at his compatriot and nudged him with a clenched fist. “Why are you saying it like that? You’re an earth pony.”

“I didn’t want to assume,” the first muttered without shifting his gaze.

“Well now they’re going to assume we’re idiots.”

That got a glare. “Not if you had maintained some degree of professionalism.”

“Excuse me if the species change threw me just a little off-balance.”

Sunset, her train of thought having completed the abrupt track shift, cleared her throat and stood up. This wasn’t her first time dealing with the Royal Guard. “How can we help you, gentlecolts?”

“For the record, I am Twilight Sparkle of Earth,” said Twilight Sparkle of Earth, also getting to her feet. “This Earth, anyway. The existence of Equestria has some fascinating ramifications regarding certain interpretations of—“

Sunset cut her off with an elbow to her side. “You already told them you’re a Twilight.” They traded lopsided grins.

“Equestria needs you, Miss Sparkle,” said one of the guards, thoroughly ruining the moment.

“Please come with us,” added the other.

Twilight furrowed her brow and looked to Sunset. “Can they do that?”

Sunset, for her part, was already digging through her bag for the enchanted journal. “Unless Princess Twilight made some massive legal changes she never told me about, they can’t force you through the portal for a bunch of reasons. But they wouldn’t be asking if it weren’t something important.” She opened the journal just in time to see writing scrawl itself across the next blank page. A chill went down her spine as she took in the missive. “Okay, yeah, you should go with them.”

“What?” Sunset passed Twilight the journal. Moments later, it fell from nerveless purple fingers and nearly hit the pickles. “What!?” Twilight turned to the guards, a twitch developing in one eye. “What.”

“If it’s any comfort, Miss Sparkle,” said one guard, “that’s been many creatures’ reaction.”

“Word for word in the case of Chancellor Rarity.”

Twilight sighed and turned back to Sunset. “I don’t suppose you can come with me?”

That got a shake of the head as Sunset watched more text inscribed itself. “I’m needed here to lead the search.”

“Oh.” The disappointed tone made Sunset wince, but the plan was clear.

“Starlight Glimmer has volunteered to guide you given her own experience in this world,” offered a guard.

Sunset stood back up and gave Twilight and eagerly accepted hug. “Good luck.”

“You too.” Twilight squeezed Sunset as hard as she could manage, then pulled back with a fierce look in her eyes. “And if you find her, give her a punch in the arm for dragging me into this.”

Sunset nodded, mirroring the expression. “Already part of the plan.”

Turning into a little unicorn pony was only slightly less horrifying the second time around. Seeing it coming didn’t make it any less of a fundamentally alien experience: The surreal exchange of fingers for hooves; the hundred different wrongnesses from becoming a naked, hairy quadruped (excepting glasses and hair tie, which raised their own questions); the proprioceptive struggle to keep the horn in mind whenever her head was near any obstructions…

In short, all of Twilight’s things were once again horse things, and it hadn’t gotten any easier to deal with. Still, she had enough spare attention to notice how, rather than the expected curious crystal, the room where she found herself was built from white marble. Also filled with an assortment of cardboard boxes, dusty furniture, and other ponies.

“Welcome to Castle Canterlot,” said one of the guards, who were much less intimidating as ponies.

“Oh dear,” said a familiar voice. “This will be a challenge.” The local Rarity trotted up, giving Twilight an equally familiar once-over. “Not impossible, but a challenge. Still, you’ll do better than Trixie.”

“Trixie resents that,” pony Trixie trixied. It was the only way to adequately describe the experience. Twilight even glanced back at the mirror portal to make sure none of her classmates had snuck through.

After that, she took a deep breath and asked the question burning in her mind since she read Sunset’s journal. “Okay. So. What happened to my counterpart?”

“That’s the question of the hour, darling,” said Rarity. She looked to one of the windows. Twilight followed her gaze and, gobsmacked by the fantasy cityscape before her, nearly missed the rest of the response. “The sun went up this morning, thankfully, but there’s been no trace of her since aside from a letter she left in Spike’s room. And all that said was ‘I need a break. I’m sorry.’”

Twilight managed to tear her eyes away from the marble minarets and blurted out one of the dozens of questions bouncing around her thoughts. “Spike has his own room?”

Rarity’s furrowed brow said everything she needed to about Twilight’s apparent sense of priorities. “Of course. He is a growing dragon. Though at the moment the poor thing is going through his own contacts to see if there's been any sign of our Twilight. I fear he blames himself.”

“I see.” With another deep breath, Twilight tried to focus on something relatively sane. “Any other potential leads?”

“The Royal Guard has been preparing for a Code: Wandering Star since Her Highness’s accession was first announced,” offered one of her escorts, “but she is proving… elusive. Even by our most pessimistic projections.”

Trixie didn’t so much smirk as settle into her default expression. Which was a smirk. “They’ve already checked every library and bookstore both here and in Ponyville.”

The guard nodded. “The search will be much slower as we investigate lower-probability venues.”

Twilight nodded in turn, adjusting her glasses and trying not to think about how she was doing that with a hoof. “And that’s where I come in, right? Personal insight into the mind of Twilight Sparkle.”

The others traded uneasy glances. “Did Starlight not tell you?” said Rarity.

“Tell me what? Her message just said my counterpart was missing and there were tasks only I could perform.”

“Well…” Rarity gave a hesitant nod. “Yes, that is technically true. In the sense that we’re more concerned with the body of Twilight Sparkle.”

Twilight took a moment to consider that statement from every angle she could. Her ears folded back as she arrived at the most reasonable interpretation. “You can’t be serious.”

“Glasses aside, you are the spitting image of Sparkle circa the Ursa Minor debacle,” said Trixie.

“Which is a problem, but one some platform hipposandals and illusory wings can address.” Rarity began to circle Twilight, bringing sharks to mind.

“I’m a high school student. You expect me to fill in for your god-empress.”

Trixie rolled her eyes. “You’re overdramatizing this. And that’s Trixie saying that.”

“The princesses emeriti haven’t written back yet, but we have Discord covering the sun and moon, and he’s Pinkie Promised to keep them going at the usual rate for at least the next few days,” said Rarity, which somehow wasn’t the craziest thing that had come out of her mouth today.

“I still know nothing about your world!” Twilight cried. “Certainly nothing about its political landscape!”

Starlight trotted into the room with a smile on her muzzle that, despite knowing her for less than a week, Twilight still recognized as a sign that she was very proud of a terrible idea. “That’s where we come in! We’ve already gotten the weekend put away as a royal recess. Plenty of time to give you a crash course on who’s who and what’s what.”

Trixie moved to Starlight’s side, matching the bad-idea grin. “And even when we’re through, you’ll mostly just need to sit on the throne and look princessy.”

At this point, Cadence’s old breathing exercises were the only things keeping Twilight on her hooves. She looked longingly at the mirror portal. “What exactly do I get out of this again?”

“Besides saving a nation from abject chaos, the admiration of millions, and all the privileges of royalty?” said Starlight.

Twilight fixed her with a half-lidded glare and waved a hoof. “Hi. I’m Twilight Sparkle. Only the first entry on that list sounds even remotely appealing.”

“Ah.” Starlight nodded. “Fair.”

“You can also start establishing diplomatic ties with your world,” noted Rarity. “Our Twilight has been dragging her hooves there. She says it’s because neither world is ready to deal with all of the implications and consequences, but I think she’s just avoiding that Flash Sentry colt she refuses to discuss.”

That got Twilight thinking. “Leaving a mess for her to clean up is more tempting than I’d like to admit.”

Trixie chuckled. “I like this Sparkle. Can we keep her?”

“Still,” said Twilight, “there is the matter of school.”

Starlight shook her head, floating the other half of the quantum entanglement journal off her back. “Already taken care of.”

“So,” Vice Principal Luna said as she passed the journal back to Sunset, “Twilight Sparkle needs to act as a body double for her magical pony counterpart for the sake of national security in your homeland, and will be indisposed for the foreseeable future. Do I understand that correctly?”

“Yes, Vice Principal.”

Luna slumped in her chair. Her apartment lacked the imposing shadows of her office, but she'd been able to maintain her usual air of authority even in a ratty concert T-shirt and jean shorts, at least until now. She heaved a sigh. “I can see why Celestia foisted this on me.” After straightened both her posture and her mask of professionalism, she continued, “I assume that this will preclude her attendance at the Math Olympiad this coming Friday?”

“If it goes that long.” Sunset offered the best smile she could given the circumstances. “At least Crystal Prep has lightened up?”

Luna grimaced. “Abacus Cinch may no longer be in charge there, but…” She narrowed her eyes. “Can I trust your discretion, Sunset?”

That got a nod. “If there’s one thing I’ve maintained since my bad old days, ma’am, it’s being able to keep a secret.”

“I suppose so.” Luna took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before she continued. “Principal Cadence and I have a wager on the event, and given my confidence in Twilight, I may have agreed to an… unwise proposal.”

“Well, I’m sure it can’t be too bad—”

“If Crystal Prep wins the Olympiad, Cadence will encourage Twilight to date one of her more repentant classmates.”

It felt like Sunset had swallowed an ice cube. “What?”

Luna shrugged. “She used to babysit Twilight and is still one of her most trusted confidantes. That said, I can tell you that Timber Spruce will make another young man very happy some day.”

“Oh.” The chill kept spreading as Sunset took in the full implications. “Oh.”

“The bet seemed like the best way I could delay her,” said Luna, as apologetic as Sunset had ever heard her. “The woman’s nigh-unstoppable once she puts her mind to matchmaking. And speaking as someone with her own history of subordinating her own desires for the sake of those she loves, you have been… less than subtle.”

“I understand, ma’am.” The words felt distant, like Sunset was watching someone else say them. “If you’ll excuse me, I have an alicorn to track down.”

Luna nodded. “Of course.”

The First Guard and the Finest Student

The moment Twilight was through the portal, Sunset had her phone out and began contacting the other Rainbooms. Within the hour (and after conferring with Vice Principal Luna,) everyone had assembled in her apartment and she explained the situation as it stood.

Rarity put on a judgemental moue once Sunset was finished. “And you just let her go?”

“What else was I supposed to do?" said Sunset. "We both agreed that letting Equestria descend into chaos wasn’t an option, and Twilight is the best body double in either world for the princess.”

Rarity sighed, patience audibly straining. “Yes, darling, I’m aware. I’ve seen them next to each other in this world and in Equestria. You let her go by herself?”

“She had two Royal Guards with her," Sunset said with a dismissive wave. "She was fine.”

That got a deep breath and the slow tone that meant Rarity would be pulling her hair out if it weren't perfectly coiffed. “You let. Her leave. Without you?”

Months of friendship with Pinkie had taught Sunset the value of obfuscating obliviousness. “If the princess did come to this world to escape the pressures of the throne, I have a few choice things to say to her.”

Rarity gave a grudging nod. “Understandable given the circumstances, but we as a group can cover far more ground than just you.”

"Obviously. That's why I called you. But I'm still going to help look for her here. I've been trusted with this part of the search and I'm not abandoning my post until I'm satisfied that the princess isn't in this world."

“Fair enough." Rarity dipped her head to acknowledge the point, then immediately presented a sly grin. "We'll simply have to settle that quickly, so you can go be our Twilight’s knight in autumn colors. Especially after the debacle with Timber Spruce.”

Sunset sighed. “Did everyone hear about that but me?”

Applejack shrugged from the couch. "News t' me."

Next to her, Pinkie held up her phone. "Timber updated his orientation on MyStable."

"Yes, yes, the two of you are troglodytes who wouldn't know what to do with social media if it bit you on the bum, and I love you both dearly." Rarity placed herself on Applejack's lap with a shared smile. "Now, to business. How are we finding Twilight?"

Sunset turned to Rainbow Dash. "Think you could handle it?"

Dash grimaced and shook her head. "I mean, running from end of town to the other is simple, but a block-by-block search?" She fiddled with her geode necklace. "That's probably pushing it."

That got several grim nods. The last thing any of them wanted was their powers cascading out of control from overuse again.

"I could do it a little at a time," Dash continued, "but it's not like Princess Twilight's going to hold still while I look."

"Not if she doesn't want to be found," added Fluttershy. "Runaways are never easy to deal with."

Applejack rubbed her hands together and scooched out from under Rarity. "Reckoned we'd all have t' pull our weight."

Rarity had her phone out, pondering her contacts list. "Many hands make light work, as they say. If we call a few friends, and they call a few friends, and so forth, we could have the whole school looking for her in short order."

"Which might raise some uncomfortable questions about who this girl is and why an entire student body is looking for her," Sunset said with a grimace.

Applejack put her hands on her hips. "Sunset, yer callin' for a manhunt."

"Girlhunt, but yes." Rarity turned to Sunset, one eyebrow raised. "Do you want it done quickly or quietly? I cannot see how we are to manage both."

"I can!"

All eyes turned to Pinkie Pie, who'd been deep in thought up until now. The others' expressions were a mixed bag. For her part, Sunset said, "I'm listening."

"Oh good. I was worried everyone would brush me off and then we'd spend the whole weekend looking and we'd only try my idea on Monday morning when we could've done it a lot sooner." Pinkie smiled her way through that sentence and the awkward silence that followed.

Fluttershy bit her lip. "Do we really brush you off that much?"

"Not really, but even I think this one is a long shot. It's just a long shot that will take twenty, thirty minutes tops."

The other girls traded looks, and all of them saw none of the others had any better ideas. Rarity nodded. "Very well. Pinkie, the floor is yours."

"Do I have to pay Sunset's rent?"

"Pinkie," the others chorused.

She giggled. "Sorry, reflex. It's really simple. We're just going to need one of Rarity's sleeping masks, a bucket, and Flash Sentry."

Twilight was conflicted.

On the one hand, while sociology was hardly her strong suit, she still appreciated the opportunity to experience the culture of another nation, world, and species firsthand. On the other, that last sentence had two more hands than she did at the moment.

She knew from past experience that the species dysphoria would lessen over time (and, ideally, fondue.) But knowing that an entire nation was depending on her to fill her counterpart's horseshoes did. Not. Help.

The horseshoes—"hipposandals," apparently—were one of the many matters she wished she could take the time to investigate. They were made out something that seemed like platinum, only with an iridescent sheen and the same vague sense of awareness as her geode when worn. Rarity had called them "starmetal" when Twilight had asked, and nopony had been able to tell her what that actually meant. There was simply too much going on preparing her for anything and everything she might have to deal with for her to get in another question.

Thankfully, everything went at least a little quiet once the bespectacled mare with a brown bun and a clipboard herded most of the crowd out of the room, leaving just Twilight, Trixie, and the harness Trixie was attaching to her.

Twilight looked at one of the satchels hanging from the harness, shifted her weight, and asked a question she knew she'd regret. But she'd regret not asking it even more. "What's in these?"

"Mostly gunpowder," Trixie said far too casually.

"Ah. I see." Twilight echoed that calm for two more words. "Next question: Why did you strap explosives on me!?"

That got a chuckle. "It's funny. Hearing you yell at Trixie, it's like Sparkle never left."

Twilight gritted her teeth. Random bits of energy unintentionally spouted from her horn. "Trixie."

"Hey, hey, watch it with the sparks!" Trixie licked a hoof and pressed on the tip of Twilight's horn, sending a weird numbing sensation down a good portion of her spine. "We don't want these going off prematurely!"

"I don't want them going off at all!" Twilight cried, skin crawling from whatever that had been.

Trixie rolled her eyes. "Look, we aren't all archmage-level genius powerhouses. Some of us actually need some extra components to make the more advanced spells work."

Twilight knew Trixie stood between her and the door. She still backed away from the other mare. If nothing else, she could activate the mirror. "What spell are you casting that requires bombs?"

"Please." Trixie waved a hoof dismissively. "That much couldn't decorate a small room."

The resulting confusion was enough to remind Twilight that she barely knew anything about this world, and what little she'd learned today had been political rather than chemical. "What?"

Trixie actually looked abashed for a moment, something Twilight had never seen on either of her before now. "You didn't actually think I'd use black powder, did you? That's pink powder in there. Party-grade. Mostly good for noise and enough of a shockwave to scatter confetti." She grinned and reared up, horn aglow. "Or to produce enough smoke for a certain great and powerful illusionist to..."

She let her actions speak for her from there, firing a magenta bolt and setting off twin booms that by all rights should have blown out Twilight's eardrums, to say nothing of her ribs. Yet all she felt were a pair of shoves. And by the time the oddly glittery smoke cleared, the satchel charges had been replaced with a pair of purple wings. Twilight had to peer closely at them to spot the slight transparency.

After due consideration, she gave her initial report. "Huh."

"Ta-da!" It was the most anemic "Ta-da" Twilight had ever heard out of a Trixie, but to be fair, this Trixie didn't look up to a more enthusiastic one, mane limp and sweat dripping off her face. "We'll need to bolster those once a day." Her knees shook for a moment before she steadied herself. "And I won't be doing much else while you're here."

Twilight bit her lip. A Trixie referring to herself in the first person was never a good sign. "You okay?"

"Just need a minute." Trixie sat gingerly, wiping her forehead with a foreleg. "This is pretty much the biggest spell I can cast, and that's with a catalyst and my special talent. But it's still longer-lasting and more stable than what Starlight could put together. You can't just throw raw power at illusions and expect it to work." She tilted her chin up, some pride working its way back into her voice. "It takes finesse. You didn't think they just called Trixie to Canterlot for her good looks, did you?"

Twilight couldn't help but grin. "Thanks. Really."

Trixie returned the expression. "Look, nopony's willing to tell me what the deal is with that magic mirror, but I can tell we both got dragged into something bigger than we're used to because Sparkle decided she needed a vacation. No sense taking it out on you just because you're her weird mirror-world clone thing."

"Sure, let's go with that." Twilight sighed. "Honestly, right now, I just want to..." She shook her head. "No, it's juvenile."

"Trixie prefers 'in touch with her inner foal.' Or that chuuni-thing that kirin called me once; it sounds much more exotic."

"That actually means— Wait. That's it." Twilight turned to the mirror, then the city of pony Canterlot below. "I want to go home and have Mom tell me everything's going to be okay."

Trixie nodded. "I still feel like that sometime. Actually, I should visit her while I'm in town."

Twilight shook her head. "No, no, think about it. If I feel that way after a few hours of princess prep..."

That got a gasp as Trixie sprang to her hooves. "Imagine how Sparkle feels!" She galloped out of the portal room. "Eureka! Trixie has it!"

Finding Flash Sentry was a simple matter when Pinkie Pie was involved. Her ability to track the comings and goings of everyone at Canterlot High would have been terrifying in less whimsical hands. In hers, it led the Rainbooms to the playgrounds at Canterlot Park, filled with activities ranging from hopscotch boards to foursquare courts to the baseball diamond that Pinkie homed in on like a bloodhound.

Fluttershy looked like she wished she was holding the leash. Not for the first time, she asked, "Why do we need Flash again?"

And not for the first time, Pinkie shouted back, "There's no time to explain!"

Applejack rolled her eyes. "We've been drivin' an' walkin' for almost twenty minutes. You've had plenty o' time t' explain."

"I said there's no time to explain and I stand by that!"

Thankfully, as they drew close enough to the diamond to see the field through the fence surrounding it, Sunset found the perfect way to cut off that argument before it could get going yet again. "There's Flash!" she cried, pointing at home plate.

Their target crouched behind it and the catcher, wearing a similar mask. He spared them the barest glance and shake of his head before the pitcher threw. Once the batter swung and missed, he called, "Strike two!"

Looking over the field, Sunset soon spotted why he was there. "First Base!"

"Who?" said Fluttershy.

Sunset pointed at the benches on the other side of the field, where one of the boys waiting to bat looked like a preteen version of Flash. "Flash's kid brother. Good kid; he never liked me when Flash and I were dating. I should've known; Flash loves volunteering for umpire duty."

"Ah. A sport," Rarity said with clear distaste. "Rainbow?"

Dash looked at her like she was some bizarre alien species. "It's baseball."

Rarity nodded. "Thank you," she said sincerely. "I don't suppose you could swap in for Flash?"

That got a shrug. "I can call strikes and balls, but I don't want to get in the way of sibling bonding."

"Some things're sacred," Applejack said with a nod.

"Plus, I'm pretty sure half of the players still think girls have cooties." Dash gestured towards the closer benches, where a few boys were staring at them with a mix of awe and fear. "I'd have awesome ones, but still."

"Well, I suppose we could work around this if we knew why we needed Flash..." Rarity turned to give Pinkie a meaningful look, only to find her missing.

A cry of "There's no time to explain!" came from the concession stand.

Rarity sighed. "Of course there isn't."

In the meantime, a player had gotten a good hit on the ball, and a series of throws concluded at home plate with a dramatic slide. Flash sliced his arms through the air, called "Out!" and prompted a shuffling of players.

Sunset smiled, not least because she'd reached the limits of her baseball knowledge. "At least it's over."

Dash shook her head. "Not if that scoreboard's accurate." Sunset followed her pointing finger to a display she hadn't noticed. One with more blanks than numbers, even after another "0" lit up. "Middle of the fourth. Little League games go for six innings, so there's still almost half of the game left."

"Oh." Sunset took a deep breath, running her fingers through her hair and trying not to think about time compression spells. "Okay, new plan. Pinkie can keep an eye on the game and let us know when Flash is available."

A cheer went up from the bleachers as Pinkie waved her arms, a differently colored giant foam finger over each hand and a jumbo tub of popcorn in her lap. "Go both teams!"

"That works." Sunset turned to the others, still gathered around her. "In the meantime, check places you've taken the princess. Anywhere she might know in this world, any possibilities we can eliminate."

After several nods and affirmations, the group split up.

Sunset stayed in place, opening her contacts list and calling a number that had been given to her only for dire emergencies. If this didn't count, she didn't know what did.

"Sunset," Vice Principal Luna said with measured neutrality. "I take it you have yet to track down our wayward 'exchange student'."

"That's why I'm calling, ma'am. We've hit a delay with our current plan, so we're trying to cover as much ground as we can in the meantime. And, well, you do have a set of keys to Canterlot High."

"I do, yes." Sunset could practically hear the rising eyebrow. "Notably, she does not."

"Hey, if I could..." Sunset trailed off as her mind, already putting together several other contingency plans, realized just what her mouth was saying to whom. "Um..."

"As long as you haven't significant-pause ummed since that fateful Fall Formal, I will overlook that."

"Thanks, ma'am."

"It's the least I can do given the circumstances," Luna said with just a hint of light-heartedness. "Meet me at the front entrance; we'll have this sorted out shortly."

This wasn't the first time guards had been dispatched to Princess Twilight's childhood home, nor was it the first time the two guards approaching it had been here. That had been in a much less official capacity, back when they were still in the academy, as had been Shining Armor. Indeed, they had been chosen for their familiarity with the subject.

Valorous Stance rang the doorbell and both stallions set themselves into the patient, familiar stance that could wait out continental drift.

Twilight Velvet proved more prompt. After she opened the door and took one look at the identical armored unicorns, her mouth curved into a small smile. "Valor. Resolve."

Two trained soldiers stared at a middle-aged housewife. Unyielding Resolve broke first. "Uh, Mrs. Velvet."

She cleared the doorway, beckoning them in with a wave of a foreleg. "Please, come in. I made lemon squares."

"Ma'am," Valor tried, "we're here on official—"

Velvet turned her gaze to him, and coming eye to eye with the will that had raised Twilight Sparkle and Shining Armor nearly sent the stallion to his knees. "I said, 'Come in.'"

After a moment to steady himself, Valor gulped and nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

The interior was largely as the guards remembered it, perhaps with a few more bookshelves. It was hard to tell when the house was practically wallpapered with them. The kitchen at least made room for appliances and counter space amid the many cookbooks.

Both stallions tried not to think of crossing the house as a forced march. Neither succeeded.

Resolve spoke up once they were seated. "Mrs. Velvet—"

She floated a plate and a fork in front of each of them, the former loaded with a generous serving of sugar-dusted lemon curd. "I'm not answering anything until you at least try these. I've been tweaking the seasoning in the crust."

"Ma'am—"

"You were always such well-behaved colts." Velvet's smile didn't shift an inch, yet the temperature seemed to drop twenty degrees. "I'm sure you weren't involved in any house parties Shining might have had while my husband and I were away. Certainly none that left red wine stains on the carpet."

As one, each guards cut a corner off of his lemon square and brought it to his mouth. "It's delicious, ma'am," Valor reported.

Velvet beamed, and the guards dared to breathe. "Glad to hear it."

"Is Princess Twilight here, Mrs. Velvet?" said Resolve.

She glanced upstairs. "For what it's worth, I would have gotten her out of the house before dusk." Both guards started to rise. Velvet's expression fell. "Sit down, gentlecolts."

It wasn't a spell that made their legs give out from under them. It was sheer Authority with a capital A, the same force of personality that both stallions had experienced from Celestia herself, a tone of voice that went directly for ancient herd instincts and said "Obey."

"Mrs. Velvet—" Resolve tried again.

"No." She sat, still scowling. It was a circular table, yet she was at its head. "Gentlecolts, you need to hear this, and you're not the only ones who do. I have not seen my daughter this upset since she was eight years old and had just gotten her first B. She needs time away from the throne, and she will get it whether we like it or not. Dragging her back like a convict, even if any of us could, would only delay the inevitable and lead to an even longer absence."

"Ma'am, Equestria needs its princess," Valor insisted.

"And its princess needs the peace of mind necessary to rule it. You guard her physical welfare, gentlecolts. I've looked after her emotional welfare since well before you swore your oaths. She needs more than just crying into her fillyhood pillow." Velvet smirked. "Fortunately, the Princess of Friendship has finally realized that she's allowed to call on her friends and family for a few personal favors, not just the other way around."

The guards shared an uneasy glance. Valor looked back at Velvet and nodded. "We'll convey the message, ma'am, but we do still need to get her back to the castle."

Resolve glanced at the ceiling. "If we may?"

"Oh, that." Velvet shrugged. "You can see if she left any leads in her room, but she left half an hour before you knocked."

Both stallions got to their hooves. "She what!?"

"But you—"

"I never said she was still here." Velvet's gaze went distant, looking back at memories. "Besides, I've dodged enough authorities with A. K. to appreciate the value of a good diversion."

After another traded glance, Resolve said what both stallions were thinking. "What?"

She waved it off. "Oh, that's all in the past. And the statutes of limitations have all expired. Another lemon bar for the road?"

Kibitz adjusted his monocle and sighed, the wind ruffling his voluminous mustache as he looked over report after report from the guard patrols across the city. Really, he should have retired alongside the diarchs. Raven had learned much of his hard-won wisdom, and young Spike could likely teach both of them a thing or two on the care and feeding of alicorns. But momentum was a harsh mistress, especially for a royal seneschal. And so, not for the first time, Kibitz found himself at the head of a rapidly expanding search party seeking a wayward princess.

The door to his office opened yet again, and the flutter of pages came to rest atop the stack in his in tray. He didn't bother looking up; he'd have never gotten anything done if he did every time something new came in. "Thank you, gentlecolts," Kibitz said automatically.

The expected answer of departing hoofbeats never came.

He spared a glance at the fidgeting unicorns. Odd that they were so nervous; their rank insignias implied far more experience than he'd expect from that level of jitters. "That will be all."

"We, uh, brought lemon bars, sir." Strictly speaking, Kibitz was outside of the guard's chain of command. Practically speaking, the stallion who made sure the princesses stuck to their schedule outranked everpony else as well.

He considered the plate for a moment, then pulled up their report and gave it a cursory overview. The moment he saw one name in particular, he understood. "Courtesy of Twilight Velvet."

"Yes, sir," said either Valorous Stance or Unyielding Resolve.

"Kind of her to remember my nut allergy. She'd been making pecan squares when Mi Amore Cadenza last went missing." Kibitz sighed and floated a bar off the plate. "I should have sent somepony to her the moment this whole kerfuffle began. Age truly does show no mercy."

The guards left him to the imposing stack, likely assigned to hoof out the treats on pain of maternal disappointment. Only a fool underestimated the will that raised both Twilight Sparkle and Shining Armor, after all, and even fools heeded her polite requests. And the treat did provide a pleasant counterpoint to the bitter conclusion that Kibitz soon reached.

Princess Twilight had left not just Canterlot, but the entire province of Cantershire. The stallions had found a few potential leads, but that still left the remainder of Equestria and beyond for her to sequester herself.

With another sigh, he dug out Raven's initial summary of the mirror double. A photograph of an understandably terrified young mare stared back at him, paper-clipped to the folder.

"Pray forgive us, my dear," he muttered. "We have much to ask of you."

Author's Note

Human Dash is worried about the overload that first happened in the EqG short "Overpowered."

The only canon data we have on Trixie's mother is one panel from the comics, suggesting not only that she lives in Canterlot (or at least escorted Trixie when Sunburst's parents couldn't be bothered to make the trip) but that Trixie spent at least some time at Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns.

First Base is a background colt (seen here, far left) who hasn't actually appeared in Equestria Girls, but his coloration is close enough to Flash that I've seen a familial relation between them proposed in the past.

I am fond of the idea that Daring Do's early adventures involved her future editor. (Note the awards on the top left of the linked panel.) This concept is especially well demonstrated in Spectrum of Lightning. (Not canon to this story, just a great read.)

Kibitz is from the IDW comics. I hadn't originally intended to bring him in, but it felt wrong for a fracas in the palace to not involve him.

Information Gathering for Fun and Profit

At this point in time, there were four ponies in all of Canterlot who fully and genuinely understood Spike: Rarity, Starlight, and his parents. Everypony else still wasn't sure what to make of the strange little dragon, not least because many were trying to fit him into the old Canterlot social framework.

He wasn't a majordomo—he certainly didn't have the training or authority the position demanded—and yet he still scuttled about smoothing the path for his princess. He wasn't a mere servant to Twilight, yet his eager servility tripped all the same mental switches in those accustomed to such underlings. He didn't actually have any official position anywhere since he was still a legal minor by both equine and draconic standards, yet his air of wide-eyed innocence managed to open doors for him just about everywhere, even with the nictitating membranes.

Ponies had been trying to put Spike in a familiar box since Twilight had merely been the latest in a long line of faithful students, and he in his affable way had clawed out of all of those boxes and carved out his own niche in the Canterhorn. For while Twilight had absolutely no interest in the social doors her status had opened for her, Spike had. And Hoity Toity was but one of many connections he'd formed with a promise of exotic novelty and maintained with his own charm.

His growth since returning to Canterlot hadn't all been from the cognitive shift of being partially responsible for the country as a whole. Some of the height had come from fully reconnecting with a hoarded cross-section of Canterlot's movers and shakers that most ponies would kill for.

Spike's friends and family understood and loved him as a person. His contacts appreciated him as a dragon about town, and now he was calling in every favor he had to track down the one he loved most.

And, as indicated by the increasing amount of smoke billowing out of his nostrils as he flew from one district of the capital to the next, none of them were able to help.

The girls searched every inch of Canterlot known to Princess Twilight, up to and including the former site of the book bed about which Vice Principal Luna could neither confirm nor deny ever knowing anything. With nothing to show for their efforts, the Rainbooms filtered back into Canterlot Park. After the sixth inning (and the following pizza party, which she refused to interrupt on principle,) Pinkie guided Flash and the others to Canterlot High's front lawn.

Once Pinkie came to a stop, Applejack ground out,"Alright, now will you tell us what yer plan is?"

"Sure!" Pinkie passed Flash a sleeping mask with bows over each eye. "Put this on."

He looked from the mask to the other Rainbooms. Sunset offered a hesitant smile and said "It's for Twilight." The others mostly shrugged.

With a sigh and a "Sure," Flash donned the mask.

Pinkie inched closer to him, her grin widening to a concerning level. "Can you see anything?"

Flash flinched away from her voice. "No. And I'd like that explanation now."

"Same," said Dash, prompting a series of nods and agreeing noises from the others.

"Just a second. Bucket ready?"

Applejack held up a tin pail. "I brought one, if that's what you mean."

"Perfect. Begin!" Then Pinkie grabbed Flash by his waist and spun him like clay on a potter's wheel.

Once she stopped, Flash, blindfolded and dizzy, stumbled about the front lawn until he walked face-first into the base of the Wondercolt statue. "Ow."

Pinkie looked quite proud of herself. "And if you're going to throw up, we have a bucket!"

For a few moments, the only sound was wind hissing across the lawn. In time, Rarity said, "What exactly was that meant to accomplish?"

"If there's one thing we know about Flash, it's that he's a Twilight-seeking missile when he doesn't mean to be." Pinkie waved a hand at the statue. "So if we get him to move at random, he should lead us to her."

Flash groaned. "I should have known. We have the same computer science class. She really latched onto the idea of a 'random walk' algorithm."

After a moment to consider the idea, Sunset said, "I can't decide whether that's brilliant, silly, or both."

"Definitely Pinkie," said Dash.

Fluttershy furrowed her brow, the familiar expression of someone trying to follow Pinkie logic. "So... Princess Twilight is still in Equestria?"

"Probably!" Pinkie hummed and stroked her chin. "Or we got a false positive with glasses-Twilight. We should run a few more trials and—"

"No more trials." Flash went pale as he haltingly peeled off the sleeping mask. "I may need that bucket."

Applejack rushed to his side. "I gotcha."

A muffled buzz got Sunset to check her backpack and the journal within. "It's an update from Starlight Glimmer," she said as she began to read. "She says..." Sunset trailed off, looking back and forth between the book and her ex. "She says the princess was at her parents' house until recently."

Rarity looked as shocked as Sunset felt. "So Pinkie's idea worked."

"You don't have to sound that surprised." Pinkie held her scowl for all of three seconds before breaking into a giggle fit.

Sunset knelt to dig a pencil out of her backpack. "I'm going to tell Starlight. Maybe it'll work with the other Flash."

"Oh dear, " said Fluttershy," I feel bad for him already."

"Me too," said Flash, voice echoing oddly with his face in the bucket.

Rarity squatted by Sunset, carefully keeping her dress off the grass. "Is that all you're going to do, darling?"

Sunset kept her focus on the journal, definitely not just so she didn't have to see Rarity's expression. "Well, it's not like I—"

"Sunset. Darling. Precious boots." A manicured hand draped over her shoulder. "You've done your duty. We know for certain the princess isn't here, and if she does manage to get here, she'd have to sneak through her own castle to do so. That or strand herself on a deserted island."

"Should probably get somepony to check on that," said Sunset, and definitely not as a way to keep her gaze from Rarity.

The other manicured hand took hold of her chin and made her look into thoroughly unimpressed eyes. "If you want to help either Twilight, much less both, you know what you need to do."

Sunset sighed as her resolve crumbled. "You're right."

As she started writing, she realized it wasn't resolve that had crumbled. It was self-denial. Guilt. Maybe just a skosh of self-restraint.

Open the portal. I'm coming to help.

That really isn't necessary.

I don't care if it's necessary. I was groomed to serve as Celestia's viceroy for years and I've been my Twilight's emotional rock since the Friendship Games. There is literally no one in either world better suited to act as her advisor in this mess.

Open the portal. I am coming to help. This is not a request.

Starlight didn't write anything else, but Flash nearly fell backwards through the portal before Applejack caught him.

"Sorry!" Sunset called.

"It's fine," he groaned. "When you find Twilight, tell her we need to talk."

"You're next in line after me." Sunset passed the journal to Dash. "Hold onto this."

That got a salute. "You got it."

"Good luck!" said Fluttershy.

"Go get her!" Rarity cheered.

Sunset nodded and waved. "Be back soon. Hopefully."

It probably said something about Sunset's life that she was getting used to portal travel, including the surreal sensations of her body getting reshaped in a way that should have hurt. At this point, the experience felt more like a loading screen for reality. As Sunset beheld the swirling vortex guiding her through the space between spaces, she felt a hint of the same impatience as when watching the little demon walk in place in the corner of the screen between zones in Tirek's Revenge.

Soon enough, she emerged from the portal, windmilled her forelegs for a moment, and came down on all fours. "Okay, I'm here..." She looked around as the dazzling brilliance of the paracosmos faded from her vision, leaving one of her favorite sulking rooms from her bad old days at Castle Canterlot. "In a maintenance closet. Really?"

"Twilight wanted to keep the mirror close," Starlight said from the portal mechanism, "but not where just anypony could spot it and ask awkward questions." She frowned. "Now I can't say I'm thrilled with you ordering me around, but you did raise a reasonable point. Though you may need some catch-up yourself given how long you've been in that world."

Sunset nodded. "Fair enough. How's Twilight do—"

A voice came from outside the closet. "Sunset?"

The door opened, and there she was, just as Sunset remembered her during that awkward spring break: The slim build that spoke of potent magic reinforcing her muscles, the slender horn with the tight groove, the adorable glasses. Then other details filtered in: The breathtaking wings, the sparkling mane, the regalia befitting the title she'd earned when Sunset had demanded it be hoofed to her.

A perfect synthesis of the mare who'd saved her and the girl she'd saved stood before her, joy on her muzzle gradually giving way to concern. "Is everything okay?"

"I... You... Wow." At which point Sunset's terribly stressed and horribly conflicted mind shut down.

The last thing she heard before everything went dark was a familiar, obnoxious voice crowing "Can Trixie do a makeover or what?"

Spike flew through the castle’s anti-air defenses with contemptuous ease. There were things that were worth his time, and then there was security theater. The sight of ponies in one particular storage room confirmed that the Guard had indeed gone with the Second Star on the Right Contingency; even scant moons after moving into the palace, Spike was intimately aware of where every precious item could be found within its walls.

A knock on the window soon got him inside. Again, some things were worth his time, and courtesy was worth far more than barging through and making more work for the custodial staff.

Once inside, he took in the tableau before him: Sunset Shimmer unconscious in front of the portal after a Rarity-grade swoon, Trixie in her default state of smug confidence, Starlight in a familiar state of panicked uncertainty, and a Twilight who wasn’t his Twilight done up as well they could to try to disguise that fact. A carnelian doing its best to fill in for a ruby, Spike thought, and looking almost as uncomfortable as Starlight in the process.

He sighed. “Well, this is going about as well as I thought.”

“How have you been doing?” said Starlight.

“As well as you look. Nopony’s seen Twilight." Spike sighed as he considered the magnitude of the mess. "She must’ve planned this for weeks to fall off the map so completely.”

Trixie clicked her tongue as she slid Sunset away from the foot of the portal. “You didn’t even ask your own mother? For shame.” After a thoughtful ear twitch, she added, “On a related note, Trixie has a restaurant appointment to make.”

Spike frowned and turned to Starlight.

"Mrs. Velvet was covering for her until she collected herself enough to leave the city."

He processed that silently for a few moments, flexed his aching wings, and slowly buried his face in his foreclaws. “Oh,” came the muffled reply.

“Eliminating the other leads did a lot to narrow down the possibilities,” said Starlight, throwing in a pat on the back.

“Yeah, yeah. Still should’ve thought of that.” Spike sighed and walked up to the backup Twilight, who looked very elegant from the neck down. The rest of her he put at a six out of ten on the Twilight Anxiety Scale. “So, how are you holding up?”

She tried to smile, and the resulting grimace made Spike revise the rating to a six point two. “Well. I’ve gotten a crash course on local political factions that I’ve already half-forgotten, I managed to hold a pencil for all of three seconds before unbalanced telekinetic vectors embedded it in the ceiling, and my best friend fainted when she laid eyes on me. Also, the local analogue of my pet dog has a city-spanning information web, which somehow isn’t the most ridiculous revelation I’ve had today.”

Spike nodded and patted her on the foreleg. “Yeah, you’re doing as well as any Twilight could in this situation.”

She relaxed just a bit, wearing that particular distant look that Twilight had when she was trying to analyze her own emotional state. “That is… weirdly reassuring. Especially when coming from a Spike.”

He couldn't help but smile. “We’re good at that.” Spike turned to Sunset, just in time to see Trixie straighten up and act like she hadn't been poking her. “So, if she’s here, I’m guessing my Twilight isn’t in the human world.”

“I assume so. Sunset just said she’d be coming over to help and wouldn’t take ‘No’ for an answer.” Starlight shrugged. “I have to respect that.”

“Mrnlgrgn…” Sunset shook her head, smacked her lips, and furrowed her brow. “Right,” she said after a moment, “pony mouth.”

“Welcome back,” said Starlight.

Twilight trotted next to Sunset as the latter was getting to her hooves. “I’m happy to see you, but please don’t pass out again.”

Sunset visibly froze for a moment as she took in the wings and dress. “Right. Sorry. A lot of conflicting feelings going through my head at once there. You do look good.”

Twilight blushed in a way that Spike had almost never seen from his Twilight. “Thanks.”

A sharp whistle brought everyone's attention to Trixie. “Okay, you two, you can be lovestruck idiots after we track Sparkle down and drag her back to the throne.”

“I wasn’t—”

“She deserves—”

“Later!" Trixie stomped a hoof for emphasis. "Trixie hates having to be the responsible one, so I'm making this quick: The only clue in all of Canterlot is Sparkle going to her foalhood home. What do we do with that?”

“Any chance the guards brought in something Twilight touched recently?" Sunset said perhaps a little too eagerly. "I picked up psychometry in the human world. I should be able to get something out of any mental traces she left behind.”

Trixie quirked an eyebrow. “In Trixie’s experience, psychometry is a bunch of hocus-pocus and cold reading.”

Sunset glared at her and lowered her horn, tail lashing and hoof pawing at the ground. “I’ve traced the memories of a snowflake. I’ve got this.”

Trixie looked away. She tried to play it off nonchalantly, but her drooping ears spoke volumes. “Eh, not like we have anything to lose.”

A gentle tap on his shoulder brought Spike's attention to Starlight. “In the meantime, you did check with the Hive Thorax embassy, right?”

He nodded. “Yup. They’re fine with the press release.”

“Dare I ask?” said Twilight.

“Long story short, the local shapeshifters are okay with us saying that any Twilight sightings across the country are part of a silly prank campaign by young changelings who are doing it for kicks." Spike waved a foreclaw as he sped through the details he'd hashed out with Ambassador Waggle Dance. "Don’t press charges, do report to your local guard garrison, yadda yadda boilerplate.”

Twilight nodded. “Ah, the stupidity of teenagers.”

“If anything’s truly infinite…” Sunset trailed off, leaving the inside joke unfinished as the two of them shared a smile.

“Seriously, Trixie doesn’t know if she’s jealous or wants to gag.”

2099 Primrose Lane.

A perfectly average Fillydelphia brownstone jammed against its neighbors to form a wall of housing barely broken up by different eaves and window stylings. Ponies trotted by it every day without giving it a second thought, and the only ones who spared a second glance kept it to the address number on the mailbox.

No commemorative plaque. No bouquets of flowers. No police presence.

That last had been over and done with before Twilight had even been able to get the address. Apparently once the initial threat to the world had been resolved, the matter had moved to the eldest princess's remit, and she had presumably not wanted to bother Twilight with the details so soon after that first brush with a treacherous student.

Not that she had ever told Twilight that. Or that they had found Cozy Glow's actual foalhood home, rather than the empty lot in Ponyville she'd scrawled on her application forms. Not until Twilight had Luna, who had turned over the rock of Equestrian governance and asked the squirming things underneath.

(That wasn't fair; there were a lot of hard-working mares and stallions in the Equestrian shadow government, and Twilight had to admit that while those jobs were important, not many could be brought into the light. Not any time soon, anyway. And very few of those agents actually squirmed on a regular basis.)

She thought about talking to Cozy's parents, but she'd read the transcripts of their prior interviews. They were as shocked and confused as anypony by their daughter's turn for villainy, and hadn't said a word to the throne in the wake of her petrification. Presumably, they wanted to put the matter behind them as much as if not more than anypony else.

And yet...

She rang the doorbell and waited patiently. Between the nondescript traveler's cloak covering her wings and cutie mark and the expectations of the crowd, nopony gave a thought to the random purple unicorn on the random brownstone's front stoop.

In time, a pegasus mare with a red mane and a far too familiar pink coat answered the door, red eyes more genuinely confused than she had ever seen them before. Eventually, she asked, "Can I help you?"

"Warm Glow?" Twilight asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes?" Mrs. Glow took a step back, her brow wrinkling as she took in the cloak. "Are you collecting signatures for a petition or something?"

Twilight bowed her head. "I'm sorry I couldn't help Cozy. Not how she needed it."

Mrs. Glow shook her head and sighed. "Miss, after the last few days, I don't think anypony could help Cozy. Not even Tartarus could. Now if it's all the same, my husband and I would really rather put this all behind us. I appreciate your intent, but it's been one embarrassment after another for us lately."

Twilight just nodded, keeping her full thoughts on the matter to herself. They wouldn't help Cozy either. Not here. "I just wanted to have the chance to tell you personally. Thank you."

Mrs. Glow nodded, not even closing the door all the way before muttering "Strange mare."

— — —

Sunset blinked as she came out of the trance triggered by touching the tear-stained pillowcase brought in by the Royal Guard. “Okay," she said, "I feel like I’m missing some context.”

After she described the experience, the others winced. Twilight was no longer there, being escorted about the castle to be seen and reassure everypony that everything was fine. Trixie had gone off to bed early after giving her the wings to keep up that appearance.

Starlight was still in the portal closet with Sunset. “That was a rough time for Twilight. Did she tell you much about Cozy Glow?”

"Bits and pieces. It was too fresh to really dig into when it happened, and more stuff came up on my end afterwards, at least until she came back and..." Sunset glanced at the castle grounds, knowing that somewhere out there was a statue of a terrified filly... who may have only been afraid of finally facing the consequences of her actions. "Well, there but for the grace of Twilight go I." She shook her head. “So, regret, obsession over past missteps, looking for ways to fix damage she’s not actually responsible for…”

Spike looked at the rising moon. It looked blessedly normal... this time. “It’s hardly the first time she’s had to clean up somepony else’s mistakes.”

Sunset smirked. “I was going to say it sounds awfully familiar.”

“Like teacher, like student, I suppose," said Rarity, who'd joined the group as soon as she'd exhausted her own more limited informant network in the city, which she usually used for securing good deals on fabric shipments. "Still, if this was what had been going through her mind earlier today, we can assume that her next destination will follow the theme. Only so many possibilities there.”

“Think she might head for Filly again?” said Sunset.

Starlight frowned. “It’s not out of the question, but after that last disaster, the Glows made it clear that they’ve washed their hooves of Cozy for good. They won't appreciate anypony bringing her up.”

Sunset sneered. “Some real champion parents there.”

“Quite.” Rarity yawned as delicately as she managed. Which was considerable, but it still slipped through. “Loath as I am to let such an urgent matter lie, I fear I’ve been racing around since the wee hours of this morning."

"You were the first pony I thought of," Spike mumbled, looking down at the floor and digging a toe into the stonework.

"And I'm flattered, darling, truly. In any case, Twilight’s trail isn’t getting much colder, and we’ve narrowed our options to a considerable degree. Sleeping on it may be the best option for the time being. It’s certainly the one I’m opting for." Rarity gave the room a nod and turned to leave. "Ladies. Spike.”

The others agreed, words and yawns both reluctant. For her part, Sunset was on the wrong end of an adrenaline crash and soon found her hooves guiding her to her old room in the castle. Seeing that it had been dismantled and converted into yet another (very well-appointed) guest room made her heart ache a little, but it was something she could process in the morning.

The novelty of sleeping as a pony filled her thoughts, along with wondering how Twilight was dealing with the same issue and if she needed someone to sleep with her. A bit of her mind that sounded far too much like Trixie had her frantically revising her inner monologue until she fell asleep, cheeks still warm.

The revelation that send her rocketing to wakefulness didn't hit until just after midnight.

Author's Note

A reminder that in "Suited for Success," it was Spike putting a word in Hoity Toity's ear that got him to look into the Carousel Boutique and kickstart Rarity's meteoric rise to fame. The little guy presumably wasn't spending all of his time in Canterlot getting ordered around by Twilight.

Welcome, Sun-and-Star

It would have been so much easier if Sunset could have simply yelled for ex-Princess Luna in her dreams. Unfortunately, she was too wired by her realization to get back to sleep, and she'd never gotten a clear answer as to who was even watching over the dream realm these days.

Given the ongoing crisis, she might not have ever gotten around to asking.

Also, the Night Guard didn't trust her.

In hindsight, Sunset was willng to admit that some random unicorn bursting out of a guest room shouting "I know what must be done!" and "It's all so clear now!" was bound to set off some alarm bells. Even putting aside how poorly she usually handled waking up, she might have managed a faint glimmer of the same dreaming divination as Celestia, and her brain had not reacted well to the abrupt transition from communion with the cosmos to piloting a body she wasn't used to inhabiting anymore.

Still, returning to full lucidity only to find herself backed against a wall with five spears pointed at her didn't leave the best impression. "Is this really necessary?"

"Standard protocol with raving unicorns, miss," said the guard in the center of the formation, which might have been more reassuring if he'd lowered his spear. "You were going on about a whispering shrew in the moon revealing untold secrets."

"Might have been an opossum, actually." Sunset sighed as that did nothing to shift the guards' expressions or weaponry. "Look, I don't know how much you all know about the Princess Twilight situation, but I'm part of the group helping with it and I think I know what we need to do next."

That at least prompted some wary glances between the guards, though their spears stayed where they were.

Sunset rolled her eyes. "Come on, do you really think some crazy mare would bypass your patrols, break into a guest room, and then blow her cover with a prophetic frenzy?"

"Finals are coming up at the School of Magic," said a guard on Sunset's right.

The other nodded. "I've seen stranger just this week."

"Huh." Sunset furrowed her brow. "I'm used to students breaking into the kitchens."

"How old are you, miss?" said a guard on her left.

"That's a simple question with a complicated answer, and it's not important. Can one of you direct me to somepony with the authority to dispatch guards somewhere?"

That got several skeptical looks full of nonverbal communication that Sunset couldn't parse. The stallion in the center nodded, and the spears finally came down. "Follow me, miss," he said.

A guided tour of the chain of command followed, as guard after guard hoofed Sunset off to their superiors. She hit desk jockeys three links up and kept going until she reached an office with ornate enough nameplate that she half-suspected the previous occupant had been Princess Luna. Now it belonged to one Lieutenant Graveyard Shift. The room on the other side was as plain as it could get away with, the antique furniture and massive wall-hung map of Equestria clearly having been there longer than the stallion himself.

Said stallion, a grizzled gray unicorn with an eyepatch, looked up from his paperwork as Sunset went in and her current escort all but galloped away. Lieutenant Shift needed only a glance to skewer Sunset more thoroughly than any polearm she'd come across all night. "What?" he growled out.

It might have been intimidating if Sunset had met him four offices ago. "So. I'm—"

"I know who you are, Sunset Shimmer."

She blinked, oft-repeated explanation dying on her lips. "You do?"

Lieutenant Shift snorted. "You don't even recognize me. Can't say I'm surprised. I was one of the guards the Princess tasked with escorting you from the premises after she dismissed you as her student."

"Oh." Sunset's ears folded back as memories of one of the worst nights of her life came to mind. "And one of the guards I knocked out when I went for the mirror." She sighed. "Look, I will gladly offer a more meaningful apology than empty words once we've secured Princess Twilight, but—"

The lieutenant turned back to whatever he'd been writing. "There is no 'we,' Miss Shimmer, and there will be no activity on the Guard's part based on your word alone."

"I know where Princess Twilight is headed," said Sunset, emphasizing her point with a stomp. "I just need to tell the ponies who can actually put that information into action."

"You have a hunch, Miss Shimmer."

"We already nearly found her on one hunch."

That got a moment's hesitation out of the lieutenant, which he quickly masked by dipping his quill in the desk's inkwell. "From another version of her. Not the prodigal daughter."

"I—" Sunset took a deep breath. Shouting would accomplish nothing. "I have received full royal pardons from literally every alicorn but Flurry Heart. Going by sheer experience, I am one of our leading authorities on Twilight Sparkle in all her myriad forms. Are you seriously going to ruin our best chance to locate and retrieve the princess because of one stupid thing I did years ago?"

Lieutenant Shift spared her a glance and a scowl before returning to his work. "They're called the consequences of your actions."

There were a lot of things Sunset could have said to that. She focused on the relevant one. "This may be the biggest mistake of your career."

That managed to hold the stallion's attention and gaze. "Is that a threat?"

"It's a statement of fact," Sunset said, expression kept carefully neutral. "If I'm correct, you will be directly responsible for prolonging this crisis."

He rolled his eyes and turned back to his desk. "If."

"You make it very tempting to fall back on old habits, sir." Sunset shook her head. "But it's your choice to make in the end."

"It is. And I'm choosing not to gamble on one renegade unicorn's guesswork. Go back to bed, Miss Shimmer."

She made to leave, but hesitated midway through the turn. "Seaward Shoals," she added.

The lieutenant's quill paused mid-stroke. "What?"

"Nopony ever actually asked, and I could have said it earlier. But if Twilight's going anywhere, it's Seaward Shoals. It's not the usual order of the Cobbler-Moss model of grief, but from what I've heard, the princess has been through every stage but anger." Sunset raised an eyebrow. "And we both know who she'd be mad at for putting her in this situation."

Lieutenant Shift said nothing for several seconds, internal struggle clear in his clenched jaw and furrowed brow. The quill faintly vibrated in his magical grip. Finally, he muttered, "We will take that under advisement."

"I suppose that's the best I can ask for." Sunset glanced at a wall clock, nodded, and fully turned to the door. "Good morning, Lieutenant."

Compared to Castle Canterlot, Maretime Manor was a humble abode. Compared to most of the houses in Seaward Shoals... Well, it wasn't the most opulent home in town, but it was still respectably appointed, with two single-room wings off of the main two-story structure for each occupant's bedroom deliberately pointed at the east and west.

By that design, Celestia awoke to a sunbeam shining directly onto her face. She smiled, for she could think of no more perfect symbol of everything she had worked to achieve, no more fitting reward, than enjoying this privilege that so many of her former subjects took for granted.

With a joint-popping stretch and a jaw-cracking yawn, she happily slipped out of bed at the positively decadent hour of seven in the morning. On the edge of summer, no less! The only time she would even be able to sleep this late while on the throne was around the winter solstice, and the wheels of governance hadn't stopped turning because of a little thing like minimal daylight.

They still didn't, of course, but they were now the concern of a mare even more capable of managing them.

"Good morning, Celestia."

She turned to the alicorn lurking in the shadows of her bedroom. "You're up early, Lu—" Celestia caught herself as she registered the actual voice. "Twilight? What in Equestria are you doing here?"

Twilight tilted her head as she stepped closer, revealing a blank expression that was more terrifying than a bloodthirsty grimace. "Is something wrong? It was my understanding that the reigning princess can vacate the throne whenever she wishes."

"Ah. That—"

"With little to no warning."

"Yes, I—"

"I didn't give Raven a pair of wings before she left, but I'm sure she'll be fine." Twilight shrugged her own wings. "Not that I feel the need to test that assumption against reality."

Celestia extricated herself from her bed. Her horn briefly flared; force of habit still had her reaching for her relinquished crown. "I understand your resentment, Twilight—"

"Do you? Do you really?" Twilight began to pace about the room. "The last year has been the worst emotional wringer I've ever been through. I had multiple nervous breakdowns before I even took the throne. One was over a trivia night. If you understood my resentment, you wouldn't have abdicated." Her sclera briefly flared green, rage-warped magic bubbling out from eyes and horn alike before she collected herself. "Still, at least you put in a thousand years before clocking out. I'm going to have words with Luna when she wakes up too."

"For what it's worth, Luna does plan on returning to Canterlot once she feels prepared to rule in the modern era." Only after she said that did Celestia realize that more force of habit had slipped on the neutral mask she thought she could finally put aside.

Thankfully, Twilight just nodded and said, "That's good to know." The snarl came just as Celestia began to relax. "It would have been better to know before I had to corner you in your bedroom to find out."

"Twilight, believe me, I tried to ease you into this gently—"

"Gently compared to what?" The shout came with flared wings and enough volume to rattle the windows.

Celestia remained outwardly calm, finding herself drawing on past negotiations with dragonlords. It was proving far too similar. "Gently compared to Star Swirl vanishing into Limbo, followed shortly by a draconequus popping out of nowhere and turning the reigning Triumvirate into literal sock puppets. You got more advance warning than any of the crises I faced in the first years of my rule."

Twilight went through the same breathing exercise Celestia had taught Cadence. She was quieter afterwards, if no calmer. "Celestia. You have known me since I was eight years old. At what point in my tutelage did a few days seemed like it would be adequate notice for giving me the crown?"

"I realized my mistake and rectified it."

"After Sombra marched on Canterlot! And a few moons isn't much better!"

Celestia furrowed her brow. "If you felt this concerned about the transition, why didn't you say anything after we pushed back the timetable?"

"I did. How many times did I say 'I'm not ready'? 'I can't do this'? 'I'm not fit'? But you brushed them off and..." Twilight seemed to deflate with her sigh. "Well, you're Princess Celestia."

"Princess Emerita Celestia, Your Highness." Celestia dipped her head. Kneeling definitely wouldn't go over well right now.

Twilight rolled her eyes. "Regardless, when have I ever been able to say no to you?"

"I distinctly remember you objecting to the plan to reform Discord."

"And I still went along with it, because you're you. What was I supposed to say after you told me how much faith you had in me? 'Thanks for believing in me so much that you think I can live up to a millennium-spanning legacy of peace and prosperity, but you're wrong'?"

Celestia held back her snort, but it was a near thing. "The legacy of peace and prosperity that concluded with what historians will remember as the Thirty-Ninth Invasion of Canterlot."

Twilight narrowed her eyes. "Remember how Luna said you two were passing the torch because Equestria was going through its longest period of harmony in recent years?"

"Harmony and peace are two very different things, Twilight. Your life before moving to Ponyville was peaceful. After, harmonious." Celestia sighed as she thought back to when this particular scheme began. "I spent the last century pulling the nation out of a stagnant rut that my rule had put it in, only to find that I couldn't follow. Luna needs time to catch up on a lost millennium. You and your friends have revitalized the nation on a scale you can't yet appreciate, and it is you who are best suited to help it maintain that upward momentum."

Twilight met that with a flat stare. "You expect me to believe that?"

Celestia shrugged her wings. "Regardless of whether you do or not, it is the truth." Slowly, carefully, she approached her former student, hesitating after each step to make sure she could proceed. The two sat, one more old habit coming to the fore, though there was much more of Twilight for Celestia to drape her wing over. "Twilight, you have always been your harshest critic and greatest adversary."

That coaxed out something almost like a laugh, if far uglier. "I feel like I've gotten quite a few competitors for those titles in recent years."

"And you have humbled or befriended all of them, save yourself. Do you think I would have passed the torch if I had thought for even a moment that you were truly unready?"

Twilight wriggled out from under her, the better to look her in the eye and say, "Yet here I am after the fact, telling you once more that I am not ready."

Celestia shook her head as she got her hooves. "It really is remarkable."

"What? How mistaken you were?"

"For one, how even a few moons of rule have made you much more willing to confront me to my face." Celestia grinned in the face of Twilight's scowl, especially as it faded into confusion. "It's sincerely wonderful to have another pony who can see me as a peer rather than some shining figure to obey despite her own misgivings. But that isn't what I meant."

"What was?"

"How much you sound like I did in those first years, trying to hold Equestria together during and after Discord's unrule."

Twilight took a few moments to consider that. Celestia waited for the moment of epiphany she had seen in her student so many times before, when that brilliant mind assembled the pieces laid before it into the greater whole of the lesson.

It never came. Instead, Twilight scowled anew and said, "Is that meant to reassure me?"

Celestia blinked. "Well, given how things went once I eased into the position—"

"Think back to those early days." Twilight thrust a forehoof at Celestia. "Think about the stress you were under, the uncertainty you felt. What makes you think I want any of that?"

"I'm trying to tell you that it will pass, Twilight, and you have much to look forward to when it does." Celestia let a bit of steel slip into her gentle gaze and tone. "Consider also the stress and uncertainty you're putting on whoever has to fill your hipposandals until your return."

That got an exaggerated wingshrug. "Honestly, it's kind of nice to put the fate of the world on somepony else's withers. I see why you did with me so often."

Celestia had her own moment of contemplation. "Ah. This is about more than merely the accession."

"Not at first, but now that I've built up some momentum? Yes. Yes it is."

A solemn nod answered her. "I've been expecting this conversation since I first sent you to Ponyville. I had even dared to hope that we might not ever have it." Celestia sighed. The novelty of waking up to the sunrise had long since faded, and her morning routine was thoroughly shot. "May I at least put on some tea before we continue?"

Twilight nodded and opened the bedroom door. "I feel like we're both going to need it."

"In all likelihood." Celestia led the way to the kitchen. "I ask only that we keep the shouting to a minimum now that we're out of my room. Luna is a heavy sleeper, but she does not react well to being awakened suddenly."

"If you're trying to distract me with the question of why your bedroom is soundproofed, it's not working."

Celestia grinned. "You can hardly blame an old mare for trying."

"I'm blaming the old mare for a lot of things," Twilight grumbled.

That got a wince. "This talk is overdue, isn't it?"

"By years, yes."

Rarity was not a morning person, especially not over the weekend. Late nights of bringing inspiration to fruition or staring at blank sketch pads until it felt like her eyes would bleed did not lend themselves to greeting the dawn. Not unless doing so while going to bed counted. This led to certain frictions with a girlfriend who delighted in racing the roosters to first awake on the farm, but at least Applejack knew not to call before noon on a Sunday.

Whoever was making Rarity's phone sing out in her own voice was far less considerate. Under most circumstances, she'd have hung up on the lout and gone back to sleep.

But then she saw the caller's name.

"Yes?" Rarity croaked out, feeling much less fabulous than normal and deeply grateful that video calls weren't de rigueur.

"Good morning, Rarity," said the voice on the other end of the line. It wasn't one she heard often, but she had still made a point of adding it to her contacts because of a shared sense of concern for one girl in particular.

One girl who was no doubt the topic of current concern.

"I like to think I'm easygoing as far as parents go. I've always tried to let my kids figure out who they are and who they want to be without too much nettling or hovering. I figured you were all having a sleepover last night, but I haven't gotten so much as a text message this whole time."

Given a few hours to get her thoughts collected and her face on, Rarity might have offered a charming bit of reassurance. As it was, she mumbled, "Well you, uh, I, you see..."

"It's been almost twenty-four hours, Rarity," said Twilight Velvet. "Where is my daughter?"

Author's Note

Come, Neighrevar, friend or traitor, come. Come and look upon the Heart.
Cadence: (waves) Hello!

Maretime Manor comes courtesy of the "Season Ten" comics that closed out the G4 IDW line.

Given that I established Tempest Shadow's attack as the 37th invasion of Canterlot, Sombra and the Terrible Trio make 39. (The swans don't count; they were already there.)

Coming to a Head of State

Celestia truly had only intended to make tea. But certain habits needed only months to ingrain, not centuries, and she'd just called a recess on an argument with a shorter, darker, night-marked alicorn for refreshments. She put the kettle on, yes, but she hadn't even noticed the eggs, flour, and milk she'd pulled out of the icebox until Twilight asked "What else are you making?"

"Oh!" The jolt might have cost Celestia one of the eggs if Twilight hadn't caught it in her own magic. She resisted the urge to point out the symbolism. "Pancakes are how Luna and I reset during our discussions, at least around sunrise. Otherwise, we can get heated past the point of usefulness. Though I suppose there's no need to—"

"I mean, I won't say no." Twilight flushed. "Flying halfway across Equestria is hungry work."

Celestia chuckled as she began mixing the batter. "Yelling at me, then expecting me to make breakfast. I know you're literally growing into the role, Twilight, but I hadn't expected pubescent mood swings to go with it."

Silence answered her, long enough that even before she looked back, she knew the wide-eyed expression of horror that would meet her. "Oh stars," said Twilight, "is that what's happening?"

"That was a joke."

"Was it?" Twilight got out of her seat and began pacing around the kitchen. "The more I think about it, the more sense it makes. It's not like we'd know. Cadence was already a teenager when she got her horn!"

Celestia held back her sigh with long practice, returning to the pancakes. "Twilight, I know I'm not the only teacher to caution you about taking too much from a single data point."

"Yes, but—"

"Let me put it this way: Was our earlier confrontation sincere, or just you yelling at the closest thing you still have to an authority figure?"

The silence was shorter this time, just long enough for Twilight to move to Celestia's side with a furrowed brow. "Do you want me angry at you?"

Celestia stretched a wing over her, once more noting how there was a little more Twilight to cover even compared to the accession. "I want you to be certain of your mental state, for your sake and Equestria's. Though you take precedence. Moreover, as I said, I deeply value having ponies unafraid to take me to task." Celestia grinned. "I honestly envy you for having so many."

Twilight returned a flat look. "But you certainly don't envy my having the crown."

"I do not, no. And I won't take it back." Celestia bowed her head. "That said, I shouldn't have teased you like that when you were clearly in a delicate emotional state, and I apologize for my ill-chosen words. Harmony knows you have enough legitimate grievances against me without either of us inventing new ones."

A third silence, one that left Celestia's heart in her throat even as some part of her kept an eye on the pan and a spatula at the ready. Finally, Twilight sighed, shrugged off the broad, white wing, and said, "Well, it's a start." She began digging through the drawers until she found silverware, then started setting the table. "And it's not like I lashed out like this during actual puberty, to you or Mom."

Celestia allowed herself a grin. "Well, yes. I was merely the Princess of the Sun. Standing against Twilight Velvet would be quite another matter."

As far as Rainbow Dash was concerned, it was too early to be early.

Dash wasn't lazy, and those who claimed otherwise were welcome to try captaining multiple sports teams themselves. She was energy-intensive, and needed to compensate for that with a carefully balanced diet and strategically placed naps throughout the day. And that was on top of a good night's sleep.

It was impossible to get that last bit with her phone making a racket on her nightstand, putting Dash in the very unwelcome state of trying to tune out her own guitar solo. This was, of course, impossible, and she grudgingly awoke with murder in her eyes. Checking her messages twisted that rage into confusion.

Rarity 4m ago
Forgive me. There was nothing I could do. She knows you have the journal. 😭

That got a groan at the needless drama. "Who?" said Dash, writing out a matching reply.

Rarity was still typing when a knock on Dash's door demanded her attention. "Dashie!" her mother called. "Are you up? Twilight's mom is here and she said it had something to do with magic."

There was no thought behind the reaction. Dash just went still and silent, barely daring to breathe or move her thumb to silence her phone. She'd only seen Twilight Velvet angry once, when all of the Rainbooms had come to offer Twilight moral support as she told her parents about the events of the Friendship Games. Even with that fury directed at Abacus Cinch, Dash had been able to see where Midnight Sparkle had gotten it.

After a brief eternity, Windy Whistles spoke up again. "Well, you know teenagers. My Dashie can sleep through just about anything." Dash managed to roll her eyes at the pride in her mother's voice. "Can I get you a cup of coffee while we wait?"

"That would be lovely," said Velvet, sounding perfectly calm and somehow all the more terrifying because of it. "Sorry to impose so suddenly."

"Oh, I'm always happy to have guests..." Windy's voice trailed off along with the footsteps on the other side of the door.

Dash gulped and looked back at her phone. She had a few minutes at most before her mother cheerfully but insistently dragged her out of bed. She need a plan.

"Twilight's mom's here," she sent to the Rainbooms group chat. "What do I do?"

Fluttershy
oh no

Pinkie Pie
😔🙏🇫

Applejack
damn

Rarity
Better you than I, darling.

"Great. Real helpful, guys. Yay, friendship squad." With no other comments forthcoming, Dash sighed, got up, and made for the door. She'd just have to wing this one. And try not to think about how Twilight's dad had had to physically hold back his wife from marching on Crystal Prep.

"You got this," she told herself as she made her way to the kitchen. "You got this."

"Morning, Dashie!"

"Good morning, Rainbow Dash."

I so don't got this. "Hello, ma'am."

"I'm sure you have an excellent reason for why I haven't heard from Sparkle for almost a full day." Twilight Velvet held eye contact through a long sip of coffee, her gaze saying everything her words didn't need to. "I'd love to hear it."

Twilight frowned in thought as she dragged her last forkful through the syrup on her plate. "So, the pancakes are supposed help you and Luna focus on the actual topic of discussion rather than any personal grievances, right?"

Celestia nodded. "Especially after Starlight Glimmer's... daring approach to mending our bond."

"How does that work when that topic is my grievances?" Twilight pointed her fork at Celestia, careful to draw it back over her plate as the syrup oozed through her magical grip. "Ones you recognize as legitimate, no less?"

"That is more complicated," Celestia allowed. "But I find every creature is more reasonable with a full stomach."

"I wasn't..." Twilight trailed off and ate the bite. "Well, breaking into your bedroom was unreasonable, but my issues with you aren't."

"Indeed." Celestia cleaned her own plate and smiled. "And now we may discuss them in full, now that we are full."

An awkward silence settled over the kitchen. Eventually, after floating the plates into the sink, Twilight said, "I can see why Luna bore Laughter."

"You cut me to the quick, Twilight. And I suspect you're not finished."

"Why me? Why us? Especially when you and Luna started acting like Ponyville's personal superheroes before you went on that vacation together."

"For the incidents in Ponyville... Well, I admit I dragged Luna into several of those. Even at my age, a pony isn't immune to the siren song of senioritis." Celestia's muzzle scrunched as she thought about that. "Not in that sense, but—"

Twilight favored her with a giggle. "One thing Pinkie taught me is that most ponies are funnier when they aren't trying to be funny."

"So it seems. As for 'why you...'" Celestia sighed. "Something you will learn, that you may already suspect, is that destiny is a force as fickle and pernicious as Discord. Perhaps worse since it doesn't have the decency to incarnate and give us a face to shout at. Normally, I can only faintly sense its shifting whims, but when I received your letter warning of Nightmare Moon's return, it was like seeing one of my students perk up when they heard their favorite subject get mentioned."

At the dining hall of Castle Canterlot, the conversation had turned to Sunset Shimmer's least favorite subject: The consequences of her actions.

"He what!?" Twilight cried once Sunset finished retelling her encounter with Graveyard Shift.

Sunset sighed. "Look, it's not the first time I've had to deal with the fallout from my bad old days. I'm sure it won't be the last. And there definitely wasn't any way I would convince him at half past one in the morning. Not if I didn't even think of waking up somepony who I knew would listen to me. It's fine."

Kibbitz's tone and mustache both bristled. "We may have missed our best window to secure Her Highness. It is most assuredly not fine."

"I'll have a writ of authority ready for you before lunch, Sunset," added Raven. "We can't have this happen again."

"Look, you were able to dispatch some guards, and we don't know for sure that Twilight's even in Seaward Shoals." Sunset shrugged. "Like Lieutenant Shift said, this is just a hunch."

"It makes perfect sense to me," Twilight insisted with a scowl. "I know I have some choice words for Abacus Cinch the next time I see her."

Sunset's stomach twisted as she thought about that. "I have a lot of complicated feelings about comparing that harpy to Princess Celestia."

"The Ornithian delegation isn't scheduled until Thursday, Miss Shimmer," said Raven.

After a moment of confusion, Sunset sighed and facehoofed. "Right. Equestria."

"Your Highness!" All eyes turned to a pegasus guard diving down from the ceiling.

Twilight had a brief confused look of her own before she looked at the others. "Secret entrance?"

"Secret entrance," they chorused.

"This is a private meeting, soldier," Kibbitz said to the guard, his mild perturbation drowning out the thud of an armored stallion on carpet.

"I know, Master Seneschal, but it's an emergency. Prince Rutherford of Yakyakistan is here demanding to see Princess Twilight!"

Twilight's bafflement gave way to a scowl. "So you gave me the throne because... what, I was the main character now?"

Celestia bobbled her head from side to side. "There is some merit to looking at the situation in that way. Fate loves its familiar narratives: The plucky underdog against the evil empire, the good and simple overcoming the wicked and devious, the hero of a thousand cutie marks galloping forth once more. For the last several years, I've feared that it might grow tired of the power of friendship triumphing over all and decide to 'mix things up,' so to speak. There were brief moments when I was sure it had done just that. But you and your friends always triumphed." Her smile at recalling all those moments deflated, her ears folding back. "And I... didn't."

Twilight, Harmony bless her heart, leapt to Celestia's defense without even thinking about it. "Well, you weren't always in a position to—"

"When I was, I was inconsequential at best. Luna sealing me in the sun, Chrysalis overpowering me, taking myself out of the fight by giving you my magic before Tirek could take it. Then telling you not to warn your friends of Discord's betrayal." Celestia took on a thoughtful look. "It was a terrible plan, but it was almost worth seeing the look on Tirek's face when he found I had nothing left to steal."

After a few false starts, Twilight crossed her forelegs and said, "Okay, if your plan is to confuse me to the point where I don't know if I'm yelling at you or trying to defend you from your own self-deprecation, it's working."

"I am only trying to explain the many reasons for my abdication." Celestia blinked as realization struck. "I've... never actually said them aloud until now, not even to Luna. I just told her I planned to step down and she agreed it was for the best and offered to join me for a time. I must admit, putting my thoughts into words is proving to be an enlightening experience."

"For both of us. So it wasn't just fate's attention?" The scowl crept back onto Twilight's muzzle. "Which honestly undercuts how hard we had to work for those victories."

Celestia shook her head. "Oh, you earned every one of them, make no mistake. Again, fate may be an even more frustrating force than Discord, especially in terms of telling how much impact it actually has on the world. But it was but one reason among many."

"What else?"

It took a few moments for Celestia to voice the thought. Not because she hesitated to think it, but because she'd been thinking it for so long that it had seemed too obvious to say. "I'm old, Twilight."

"Seriously? Come on, you don't look a day over three hundred!" Twilight's grin faltered as the joke fell flat. "You... are you going to—"

"Unless something truly unfortunate happens, I have the luxury of deciding when my time here ends." Seeing that had done nothing to ease Twilight's concern, Celestia quickly added, "And I have no intention of departing for the foreseeable future. But based on both my assessment and Luna's, I am no longer fit to rule."

Fear gave way to confusion as Twilight shook her head. "I don't understand. You're making it sound like you've gone senile."

"Oh, I can get by day to day just fine. Just not for an entire country that stretches from coast to coast. The problem with ruling for a thousand years, for existing for a thousand years, is fighting off calcification."

Twilight looked over Celestia's body for a few moments before asking, "Do you mean that literally, or—"

"Thankfully not." Celestia shuddered at the familiar mental image. "Though I have had more than a few nightmares along those lines over the years. What I mean is falling into comfortable habits that go on to become unbreakable traditions because it's the only way the Princess has done something in living memory. And I wasn't always successful; as I said before, I spent the last century trying to make up for several earlier ones. And even beyond losing fate's interest, that kind of rote ritualism isn't good for a nation. Stability is important, yes, but not to the point that it cannot withstand any shift in the world. Life is unpredictable, and we must always expect the unexpected. Indeed, I believe some of your letters from Ponyville captured what happened when ponies couldn't."

"Fainting at bunny stampedes, assuming minotaurs are monsters..." Twilight sighed, her ears drooping. "Thinking that friendship lessons are due every week."

Celestia nodded. "Precisely. Even when Discord was sealed, chaos was a fundamental part of our lives. There was a time when I tried to change that, when I thought I could and should. I know better now, but the fact remains that we'd been having a calm few centuries before Luna returned, even with my efforts to the contrary. Everything suddenly happening all at once..." She shrugged her wings. "This old mare just couldn't keep up anymore. Luna and my advisors helped, but..." She grinned. "I've heard ponies compare me to a swan when they see me swim. It's an apt metaphor for the last moons of my reign, the appearance of serene motion belying the frantic flailing beneath the surface."

Twilight considered that for a few moments, but ultimately shook her head. "I find that hard to believe."

"Because of faith in me, or distrust given the burden I passed on to you?"

That got a wingshrug. "At this point, I honestly can't tell which. Maybe both?"

Celestia nodded. "There have been times when I've felt similarly towards Star Swirl since his return. But consider this, Twilight. You've lamented how the recent plot to sow distrust between the tribes happened underneath your muzzle, yes?"

Twilight scrunched her muzzle, clearly perplexed by the seeming change in subject matter. "Yes?"

"You weren't the one who should have noticed it. It was far from the first time creatures have tried to use intertribal tensions to tear Equestria apart. It wasn't even the most subtle." Celestia sighed. "And yet this time, I completely missed it myself. Overwhelmed as I was by the political games I once could play in my sleep, the warning signs passed me by until I could only spot them in hindsight.

"I understand that you feel unready for all that the crown asks of you, Twilight. But I have irrefutable, windigo-frosted proof that I am no longer ready for it." Celestia bowed her head. "I cannot take this burden from you because I fear what calamity may await us if I do."

After some time spent digesting that, Twilight sighed. "Well now I just feel like a brat."

"You are anything but." Celestia gave a sigh of her own. "I should have told you... any of this without being forced. But one of those bad habits is a certain tendency for circumlocution."

That at least got a smirk out of Twilight. "I hadn't noticed."

"I do hide it well," Celestia said with a grin. "And I will tell you this as directly as I can: I have every confidence that nopony is better suited to lead Equestria into this bold new era than you, Twilight Sparkle."

After the guard's message came an even greater frenzy of activity than any Twilight had experienced in pony Canterlot thus far. She'd literally gotten teleported to the throne room. Before she could even question the philosophical ramifications, Rarity, Trixie, and Starlight popped into the room at various levels of wakefulness, whether to act as advisors or just to make sure Twilight's wings didn't burst into smoke at the worst possible time. Kibbitz and Raven had gone out to use all of the power of bureaucracy to maybe buy them a few minutes. And Sunset...

Sunset seemed as confused as Twilight, and that was the best moral support she could ask for at the moment. "So, uh. Yaks?"

Twilight nodded as best she could as the emergency primping and polishing wound down. "I don't understand why this is even happening. Haven't they been stonewalling the whole world to give me prep time? What's so different about this Rutherford person?"

"You see, darling," Rarity said as she spared a few moments for her own mane, "the yaks are a very... passionate people."

"Most of their festivals, sports, and courtship rituals involve smashing things," added Trixie, nursing a cup of coffee that nearly qualified as a cauldron.

Rarity winced. "Put more bluntly, yes. It is one thing to send a letter to the prince assuring him that his concerns will be addressed in due time. It is quite another to stand in his way physically."

As if on cue, the doors to the throne room burst apart, sending chunks of wood and a few hapless guards flying. Something like a small, shag-carpeted tank stomped in after them.

"Your Highness, please," said Raven, trailing after the behemoth, "we really don't have room in the schedule for—"

"If you no find room, yak will make room!" Rutherford boomed loud enough to make the stained glass windows rattle in their frames.

"Is he shouting, or is that just his normal speaking volume?" Sunset said from behind the throne. Twilight envied her having the chance to dive for cover.

"I've only met him a few times," answered Trixie, "but I don't think there's a difference."

After a few moments, Twilight realized that the room had gone quiet and every pony she could see was staring at her expectantly. It was harder to tell with Rutherford given the furry fringe that covered his eyes, but he was at least pointed in her direction with a level of menace that was in sore need of a "This End Towards Enemy" label.

Twilight sat up in the throne, cleared her throat, performed the hastily practiced bit of thought that made her wings spread wide, and said, "Your Highness—"

"Pony talk too much!" the prince shouted. He swept his gaze across the room, scowl deepening. "All ponies talk too much!"

"Your High—"

"Yaks had it with talky ponies!" Rutherford turned back to Twilight, jabbing an accusing hoof at her. "Fussy ponies say princess busy. Busy with what?"

While no one had anticipated a ruler of an allied nation to storm in and demand to talk to the manager, they had at least prepared a cover story. "I've been taking advantage of a lull in my schedule to reexamine the tax code, and—"

Rutherford cut her off with a stomp that made the whole room shake. "Where law books? Pony tax law all done in head? Yaks done with pretty pony lies! Get settlers off yak lands, or we declare war!"

Panic at causing an international incident clashed with confused curiosity in Twilight's mind and quickly found a compromise. "Settlers?"

"Stupid princess not know what own ponies doing? Crystal ponies spreading over ancestral yak tundra! Part of Yakyakistan for many moons!"

"I see," said Twilight, already halfway through a plan to help. "Perhaps we could negotiate a trade deal for whatever resources—"

"Stupid pony!" Rutherford's shout reduced the beautiful idea to dust. "It solid permafrost! Yak crops not grow there, not worth mining!"

Twilight felt a twitch start in one eye. After a deep breath, she tried again. "Then why—"

"Because it yak permafrost! When pony princess get so stupid?"

Deep in Twilight's mind, a little switch went "click." It was a very quiet click, the kind one might hear when cocking a hammer or hiking in a minefield. Or, as an old memory offered, when choosing a target for annihilation.

Twilight barely noticed her wings shifting into darker plumage, or the way Starlight's corrective lens spell had started burning teal at the edges. Her primary focus was the impudent fuzzball before her. "Speak carefully, Prince Rutherford, for my words are backed with NUCLEAR WEAPONS!"

The Royal Canterlot Voice, or at least a decent imitation of it, echoed through the throne room. Sunset's panicked whispers were almost drowned out. Every other pony in attendance looked at Twilight in blank incomprehension.

Prince Rutherford threw his head back, great, booming belly laughs filling the room in turn. He wiped a tear from his eye as he collected himself. "Pony stupid and bad at bluffing! Where ponies get uranium? Where enrichment facilities? Next you tell yaks you compete against them in Snilldarfest Games!"

Starlight looked back and forth between the two of them like they'd switched to a different language. "What?"

"Yaks best at smashing atom!" Rutherford declared. "You all lucky yak arsenal kept only for deterrence and space program."

Twilight shook her head, a grin on her muzzle. "Your Highness, you seem to be laboring under a misapprehension."

"Hmm? What pony mean?"

"You assumed I meant fission weapons."

Rutherford gasped, then snarled and stomped again. Dust drifted down from the ceiling. "Yak knew cloud cities holding strategic reservoirs of heavy water!"

"I can neither confirm nor deny that at this time," Twilight said casually.

"Pah! Either pony try to cover slip or even worse at bluffing than yak thought."

"Once again, you misunderstand me. You assumed we were developing our deterrent in secret, when it's been in plain view this whole time. Why, you've seen it every single day." One could say Twilight's smile grew. At the very least, she bared her teeth. "By definition."

Slowly, deliberately, she turned to look at the morning sun shining through the stained glass.

Rutherford followed her gaze. His expression betrayed nothing, but his next words were at a normal conversational volume. "Yak willing to discuss more defined borders with respected ally."

Twilight graced that with a nod. "Excellent. I suggest you do so in the actual Empire. They too are an ally, not a vassal state, and I do not dictate policy to Princess Cadence."

Rutherford snorted out a breath, turned around, and stomped through the wreckage of the main doors. In a mutter that still reached the corners of the room, he said, "Pony could have said that to start."

As the echoes of his hoofbeats faded, Trixie peeked out from behind the throne "What just happened, how did Storebrand Sparkle steal control of my illusion, and why is Mustard Mare in the fetal position?"

"I'm okay!" Sunset cried, rolling out from behind the throne and planting all four hooves down in a wide stance that left her horn pointed directly at Twilight. "We're all going to be okay! I've dealt with this before. I'm just going to need everypony's magic and maybe one or two Elements of Harmony."

The naked terror on Sunset's face didn't inspire any confidence, but it did Twilight to take a look at herself and sheepishly stop the magic she'd been channeling. The flames quickly consumed the lens spell, but at least her wings went back to normal. "I'm pretty sure I just threatened the greatest military power on this planet with turning your sun into a plasma cannon." She bit her lip. "I, uh, I don't appreciate having my intelligence insulted."

"Oh." Sunset sagged as she saw Twilight relax. "Oh, thank Celestia. You're okay?"

"For now." Twilight looked at the doorframe. Guards were already gathering the wreckage. "Hopefully everyone else I talk to will be more diplomatic."

Sunset moved to her side and rested a hoof on top of hers. "I'll be there for you, even if they're not."

"Not the ideal approach," said Rarity, drawing their attention, "but I suppose I can't argue with the results. Even if Pinkie will need to throw the soirée of the century to balance it out."

Twilight snorted. "At this point, I'm okay with giving my counterpart a little extra work when she gets back."

Twilight's ear twitched. "Do you ever get the feeling that something very silly and ironic just happened?"

Celestia gave a knowing nod. "You learn to tune it out after the first century or so. Feeling any better?"

"Better than before? Yes." Twilight glared. "But I still don't feel fit to rule, and I'm still very angry with you and your ongoing communication problems."

"What an unexpected treat, to have such a welcome guest suddenly appear and echo mine own thoughts." Luna gave a jaw-cracking yawn and nodded to Twilight, even as her magic started filling a coffee grinder on the counter with beans. "Some of them, anyway. Good day, Your Highness. Give me a moment to gird myself against it with the black brew my sister so loathes and gladly will I play the host. I imagine you have many questions, and from the sound of it, dear Celestia has done a singularly poor job of answering them."

Author's Note

Look, you can't prove yaks don't have a nuclear arsenal. Especially one that might help them smash their way out of the local gravity well.