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.