Composure

by Varanus

Rating: teen
Tags: Princess Celestia, Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Romance, Princess Luna
Length: 89767

What could be revealed when the mask called composure slips? Twilight and Celestia romance

We all wear a mask called composure, beneath which hides a heart that twists with guilt and hidden feelings. Regal as she is, Princess Celestia is no exception. What might be revealed should circumstances cause this mask to slip - or break?

Set several years after the potential conclusion to the series.

Published 2011-12-30 23:03:19 UTC
Last updated 2013-08-11 18:51:27 UTC

Chapter 1 - Catastrophe

Chapter 1 - Catastrophe

Composure

by Varanus

A MLP:FiM fanfiction.

~{C}~

Chapter 1 - Catastrophe

~{C}~

“The night looks wonderful, Luna,” Celestia said, smiling as she gazed in wonder at the depth and brilliance of the night sky her sister had so lovingly brought forth. It was unlike any she had seen before, ethereal and magnificent, impossible and wondrous.

“Do you really mean that, Celestia?” Luna asked quietly, doubt and hope in equal parts evident in her voice. “Ever since we reunited, all those years ago, I was working towards this, the perfect night.”

“Well, I believe you’ve more than accomplished it, sister,” the sun princess praised her younger sibling. “Why, the sky is simply mesmerizing tonight; I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Luna gave a small smile at the praise. “D-do you think the ponies will like it?”

“Luna, they will love it,” Celestia assured her sister, lowering her head to nuzzle the shy princess. “They will absolutely adore this night, I know it.”

Luna smiled. “I’m so glad. But, Celestia, you haven’t seen the best part. There’s a surprise in that sky, just for you. Can you see it?”

“A surprise?” the sun princess asked, excited. She never got surprises!

“Yes; it’s to thank you, and to show you how much I love you,” the darker alicorn beckoned with her hoof. “It’s at the centre of the sky, directly upwards.”

Celestia craned her head up, searching the heavens for the surprise Luna promised. Her entire field of vision was filled with the rolling eternity of the constellations, and she soon lost herself amidst their splendour. “Luna...” she murmured, tears building in her eyes from the sheer beauty. “Luna, I –”

“I’m so glad you love it, sister,” Luna whispered in her ear. “At the very least, you deserve something this beautiful to be your last sight.”

Celestia didn’t register the words until it was too late. A bolt of lightning cut through the sun princess, robbing her breath and racking her entire body with pain. Celestia didn’t even get a chance to scream as she collapsed, while at her side Luna’s horn was writhing with a dark indigo aura. Eyes wide with panic, Celestia stared up at her sister, her coat darkened pitch black, her mane and tail turned into a starry abyss, and worst of all, her mouth still holding that gentle smile Celestia cherished so.

“I’m so relieved the ponies will love this night,” Luna said sweetly, her mane sweeping over Celestia, plucking the helpless princess from the ground and lifting her into the air. “Because I put everything I had into it. I worked so hard to make it perfect.” The mane cradled Celestia like a newborn foal, and she could only look in horror at Luna’s loving eyes and smiling face as the aura bound her paralyzed form completely. “And now it is, and they will love it forever, because it’s never going to vanish. This night, this beautiful night, will last forever.”

And the starry mane squeezed, Celestia screamed –

~{C}~

– And she woke up, a cold sweat drenching her white coat.

Disorientated and breathing heavily, she darted her eyes around the room.

She was safe in her bedchamber. Philomena dozed on her perch, undisturbed. Moonlight poured in from the balcony window where Celestia could glimpse a patch of stars –

filling her vision as the thunderbolt struck, wiping away the wonder, leaving only pain and confusion -

It had only been a dream.

Everything was fine at the palace. It had been for years. Luna had once again started Night Court and established her Night Guard, bringing peace to the streets. She cherished her role, and in turn the ponies of Equestria loved her –

- the mane of stars ghosting over her, Luna so heartbreakingly happy that she was loved, loved enough to replace a sister, to replace the sun –

It had only been a dream.

Luna loved her. She would never -

smile so softly and lovingly as the abyss of stars formed a vice grip over her ribs –

Celestia sobbed, driving her head into her pillows. It had only been a dream! That’s all! A dream!

So why couldn’t she stop having it?

~{C}~

The Sandmare, arrogant fool that it was, refused to answer the princess’ call in the wake of the nightmare. Unable to sleep, Celestia reluctantly rose from her bed and ran through the motions in preparation for the day. By the time she was almost finished, gargling her tea-tree mouthwash, the moon was low in the sky and dawn was less than an hour away. Celestia felt a traitorous flutter of relief at the thought and hated herself for it.

She refused to give those thoughts quarter in her mind, and strode out onto the balcony to observe the moon. Sure enough, a familiar voice soon called out to her.

“Sister!” Luna said happily, alighting on the balcony and smiling at her sister. “How long have you been awake?”

“A while now, Luna,” Celestia replied. “I... had some trouble sleeping.”

“Excited about Twilight’s visit?” Luna asked, her voice carrying a knowing tone.

Celestia blinked, then broke into a radiant smile. “Why yes, as a matter of fact I am.” Now she was glad to have walked out onto the balcony – Luna had reminded her of her precious student’s visit to the castle, one they had been planning for months.

“What is it she’s up to, anyway?” Luna inquired, curious.

“Well,” Celestia began in earnest, pride in her voice, “Twilight has been conducting studies into magical energy sources. We’re going to attempt to imbue a gemstone with a particular magical energy source and convert it into another. It’s all very theoretical, but today is one of the first large-scale practical experiments.”

“You seem very excited,” Luna said with a smile.

Celestia nodded eagerly. “Oh yes, certainly. There are just so many applications for this sort of magical technology. Imagine the possibilities – what if one could drop a talisman into a lightning cloud, absorb the energy within, and convert that vicious power into a gentle, slow releasing heat? It could provide warmth to a city the size of Hoofington for weeks!”

Luna blinked. “Oh. That sounds important.”

Celestia’s wings fluttered bashfully. “I like to take an interest in the technological arts now and then...”

“Well, it’s important for us to have the lives of our ponies at the front of our minds, is it not?” the moon princess said lightly. Celestia nodded in agreement, and they turned to gaze into the dwindling night sky.

“I have a surprise for you...” Luna’s voice broke the silence after a moment. She smiled at Celestia and, to her credit, the sun princess only hesitated for a split-second. Not nearly enough for Luna to catch as anything more than her usual caution. The sisters were both pranksters at heart in one way or another, after all.

“Oh?” Celestia asked, executing her best ‘now just what are you up to?’ grin.

“I was working on something for the sky tonight...” Luna continued as Celestia’s stomach twisted in growing irrational fear. “But I need your help.”

“Beg pardon?” Celestia asked, now genuinely curious.

Luna turned her gaze to the moon, watching keenly as it began to slip below the horizon. “Alright... raise the sun, please.”

“Now? The moon is still –”

“Trust me!” Luna replied with a smile. “I won’t stand in the way, I promise. Raise the sun.”

Celestia raised a curious eyebrow, but decided to play along. Drawing a breath, she grounded her stance – anchoring herself to the earth, drawing on the plants and animals that cherished her life-giving sun. Her wings extended – feeling the breeze flow through them, invoking the air which sheltered and nurtured the land with rainclouds and softened the sun’s harsh light into warm, balmy rays. Her horn glowed with the magic – magic that flowed like ocean currents through her world and the wonders and mysteries it brought with it thanks to the sun saturating it with the root of life, light.

She felt it all, the power of the Unicorns, the Pegusi and the Earth Ponies, all embodied in her Alicorn soul, all giving her the strength to reach out... and touch the sun.

Light spilled over the horizon.

But Luna’s moon still clung there, hanging in the sun’s path. Of course, they did not collide, the sun being much further away, but it was still enough to slow the dawn by a few minutes. The sunrise spread soft gold and orange across the clouds of the sky, but that began to fade as it began to pass behind the low moon. Celestia was confused at Luna’s strategy, until it happened.

The sun rose high enough to be totally eclipsed by the moon, and light emerged from behind it – a solar corona. Only, because both of the heavenly orbs were so low in the sky, the light of the corona spread out into the clouds, tinting them into a veritable rainbow of hues – golds and silvers and pastel greens and blues and reds and oranges and yellows, all spreading for miles and miles across Equestria, radiating from the eclipse. Celestia stared in wonder, unable to speak. Luna wore a satisfied smile, glancing between her sister and her creation in the sky.

After a minute had passed, the sun began to climb once more, and Luna allowed the moon to descend. The colours in the sky drew back without a whisper, the sky turning blue and the clouds fading to white, ushering in the new day.

Celestia was still speechless. Few ponies would be up at this hour. Luna had created this especially for Celestia. Gratitude and happiness welled up inside her, and the sun princess found tears threatening to pour from her eyes. “Oh... oh, Luna, it’s beautiful.”

Luna smiled softly. “Thank you. I was so worried it wouldn’t work right, so I... well, I spent the night tweaking the air flows so it’d refract the light just right.”

“W-why... what’s the occasion?” Celestia inquired, beginning to get a handle on her emotions.

Luna paid very specific attention to a patch of clouds in the distance. “You just seem stressed lately, but you’ve also been looking forward to today since your student is visiting. She’s bound to cheer you up, but I guess I wanted to do my part as well.”

“Well, you’ve succeeded wonderfully,” Celestia laughed, moving forward to embrace her sister with a tight hug. They both relished the contact before breaking apart, gazing out into their kingdom.

“Looking forward to seeing Twilight?” Luna asked, breaking the silence.

“Yes, definitely,” Celestia nodded happily. Though their correspondence hadn’t wavered over the years, it had been too long since she and Twilight Sparkle had spoken in person. “And I must say, I feel like it is going to be a good day, not in the least because of that magnificent eclipse of yours.”

“I knew you’d like it,” Luna said smugly. “I thought I’d do something special to mark the occasion. I noticed since my return you’ve been quite taken with Twilight.”

Celestia smiled. “Yes, while the entire sky is a tapestry during your night, I only get those brief moments at the beginning and end of my day to play the artist. I suppose it...” The princess trailed off as she noticed Luna barely holding in a bout of giggling. Celestia regarded her with confusion, before realising the joke. “Ah. You were making implications.”

Luna giggled, and glanced over at Celestia. “By the way, your mane is untidy.”

Celestia raised a dangerous eyebrow at her sister. “My mane billows in the solar wind. It doesn’t do ‘untidy’.”

“Wow, is that what you’ve told yourself all these years?” Luna said innocently, trotting past her sister and into the bedroom. “And I thought you were making a fashion statement. I suppose I’m going to have to brush it for you. You know what a brush is, don’t you?”

Celestia was honestly puzzled by Luna’s attitude this morning. Something was up with her – either something was bothering her or she had an ulterior motive. Dream or no dream, however, Celestia knew it was nothing sinister, so she decided follow her and indulge her sister in whatever game she was playing.

~{C}~

Forty minutes of chatting and playful teasing later, and Celestia’s nightmare was all but forgotten. She was lying on her bed with her sister, idly humming along to a record of Luna’s choosing as she ran a brush through her sister’s fine blue mane, bringing a beautiful lustre out into the strands.

“Court will begin soon,” Celestia thought aloud. “It’s a short session today so I could make time for Twilight, but I’d still best get ready.”

Luna craned her head around to look at her sister, a smile on her face. “In that case I’ll inform them you are taking the day off and that, sadly, they’ll have to be satisfied with the Moon Princess for today’s court.”

Celestia’s eyes widened in pleasant surprise. “Sister, you don’t need to do this for me.”

The younger alicorn rose, hopping off the bed. “Celestia, you’re tired. Get some rest, and be fresh and attentive once Twilight arrives. I’ll handle the administration; you just take the day off, alright?” Luna’s horn glowed and Celestia’s duvet rose, tucking Celestia in gently.

– stars, wrapping around her lovingly – Celestia banished the memory, then locked it in a dungeon in the place she banished it. Sighing dramatically, she looked up at her sister and smiled gratefully. “If you insist, I’ll – ” She paused as a sudden urge to yawn overcame her. “Excuse me, I suppose I am rather tired,” she admitted sheepishly, grinning at Luna’s amused expression. “Very well, I’ll take a nap.”

Luna nodded, satisfied, and soared out the balcony window. “When Twilight arrives, I’ll send her straight to your
chambers, sister!”

Celestia was half-dozing by that point. “Yes, that sounds wonderful...” She jolted up and levelled a fierce glare out the window, which was ruined by the embarrassed blush on her face. “LUNA!”

But her sister was already gone, laughter trailing in the wind. Celestia merely chuckled and sighed, resting her head on her pillow. Before she knew it, she was fast asleep once more.

~{C}~

Celestia dreamed.

She saw...

Luna. Glaring, incredulous.

She smelled...

Fire. Burning hair.

She heard...

Twilight’s voice. Begging, frightened.

She felt...

Lightning. Hot, savage forks.

She tasted...

Blood.

~{C}~

Celestia’s eyes fluttered open as the princess emerged from her troubled dream.

Almost instantly, she seized up in panic. ‘Where am I?!’

Her head bolted up, and she immediately regretted the swift action as an intense ache flooded her skull. She pressed her hoof gingerly to her forehead and found it sore to the touch. Even the slightest bob of her head seemed to worsen the headache that was building as she became more and more alert. As she mentally pushed past it, she also became aware of other aches and pains all across her body – it was almost as if the wounds had planned a surprised party for her while she was unconscious.

A quick glance revealed her surroundings as a white, sparsely furnished room. It smelled strongly of disinfectant. The only light was streaming in from a window on a far wall, and aside from the bed she found herself resting on, only a cushioned seat and a strange, beeping machine could be seen.

Thanking small blessings, Celestia noted that none of her injuries were too severe. As far as she could tell, her wings were fine, though she couldn’t factor clipping or other feather damage out of the equation just yet. Her ribs were tight as she took a deep breath, implying they were bruised in some way, which was supported by the tell-tale splotches of purples and yellows faintly noticeable beneath her white coat.

‘Was I assaulted?’ she thought, trying to stay rational in the face of her rising fears. ‘Who could have done such a thing?’ Alicorns were sturdier than the hardiest Earth pony – the knowledge that somepony or something had been capable of beating her to the point of unconsciousness worried her more than the injuries themselves.

‘Why can’t I recall what happened?’ Celestia thought, straining to remember something, anything. All she got for her effort was a throb of pain from her headache, and a sinking feeling in her gut as she began to assume the worst. ‘T-there must be a logical explanation,’ she told herself. Pushing the thought aside, she took stock of her surroundings.

She was in a sterile white room, one which was dimly lit and carried a heavy scent of disinfectant. The only furnishings were the bed she found herself resting on, a white cushioned seat and an odd machine which emitted a continuous beeping, the only sound present in the room. Never having been unfortunate enough to be familiar with the medical arts, it took her a moment to realise it was a device for measuring a pony’s heart-rate. Glancing at the machine, she followed several wires connected to it to confirm that, yes, she was indeed hooked up to the monitor. She frowned disapprovingly at the spots of her coat which had been shaved to allow the cups to press directly to her skin.

She then noticed the tube of a drip which similarly led to her right fore-cannon. Her horn lit up and she winced as her headache flared. Ignoring it, she used a quick flick of magic to pluck the drip’s needle out.

‘A hospital then,’ she decided blearily, her headache making it difficult to concentrate. Whatever painkillers the hospital had provided her were clearly unable to overcome her high toxin tolerance, the secret downside to being a nigh-immortal, resilient pony. She nickered at the irony, and winced as her headache punished her for it.

Sighing, she lay back down in the hospital bed and rolled on her side. Wincing once more at a new pain, she pushed herself back up and craned her head to investigate herself a second time. ‘Wonderful, another addition to my laundry list of owies and boo-boos,’ she thought dryly, but her expression fell when she saw her side. A long pink splotch of bare, shiny skin was stretching up her shoulder to her withers and down almost to her cutie mark – the largest burn she had ever suffered. It was also the strangest burn, jagged and frayed like she had been scraped by a magical claw. Some of her feathers were burnt off as well, none of the vital primaries but enough to make flying inadvisable for the foreseeable future. She prodded the skin softly with her muzzle and was relieved to note it was not too painful – it would heal fast. ‘Still, this burn is not natural,’ she noted morosely. ‘Who knows what it’s done to my insides...’

She frowned at the burn, wondering how she had received it. Its mark seemed strangely familiar. However, she drew a blank and sighed, glancing around the dim room. ‘A hospital room, not one I’m familiar with,’ she noted, taking stock of her surroundings. ‘Which only begs the question of why I am at a hospital at all – there is dedicated medical ponyel at the castle. Did something happen at the castle?’

The realisation hit her like a lightning bolt.

Twilight was at the castle.

What happened?! Was she in danger?

A surge of fear blossomed within Celestia. Was her student safe? Did she see the attack and run for help? Was she caught in the attack? Was she hurt? Was she here, in this hospital, clinging to life as her assailants, the ponies who hurt her, now lorded in her castle, smug in their victory? Was it a revolution? Were ponies sick of her rule? Why today? Why did they hurt Twilight? Would Twilight wake up, could she be saved?

A beeping noise in the background began to speed to a frantic pace. Alarmed, Celestia franticly searched for the source of the sound, her eyes resting on a strange machine beside her bed. It took her a moment to realise it was one of those heart rate monitors that had been invented in the past few decades. She glanced at her foreleg and realised the pattern on the device’s screen was reading her own heart rate. A drip hung beside it, its tube hanging uselessly to the side, letting fluid drip onto the sterile floor. She frowned in confusion, wondering why somepony would waste hospital supplies so carelessly, but pushed the thought away. Twilight was in danger.

‘Calm down, Celestia. Composure is what separates us from the rest of the animal kingdom,’ the princess chided herself. ‘Think. I’m in a hospital. Whoever did this to me must have driven me from the castle. Or perhaps... perhaps they have captured me? Do they believe they put me in a coma? They’ve underestimated me then, underestimated the strength of an alicorn, of their Princess.’ Her expression became grave. This attack, it may have placed her student in danger, and Celestia was not sure she was so kind as to be able to let that pass. ‘I can forgive this assault on my person. But if Twilight is harmed, there will be a reckoning, as surely as the sun will rise.’

Her thoughts, so focused and full of determination, suddenly came to a swift halt as she realised something so fundamentally wrong, she hadn’t even realised what was amiss until that moment.

‘The sun...’

The room was dark. There was only a pale shimmer of light illuminating it from the window... but far, far too little to be sunlight.

‘But I... I never lowered the sun...’

Ignoring her migraine, ignoring the way the room spun as she stood, and above all else ignoring the voice inside her that begged for her not to look, Celestia stepped forward towards the window.

And looked up at the pale moon that hung in the night sky.

‘Oh no no no no please sweet heavens no,’ Celestia silently prayed to the sky. ‘Luna isn’t... she couldn’t have...’

Just as she was unable to raise the sun in the morning until Luna lowered the moon, Celestia knew that without her consent Luna could never summon the night... unless, of course, the sun princess was unconscious and unable to protest. Unless she waited until her guard was down and struck, during the day when none could accuse her of becoming the Nightmare once more.

She realised why her burn was familiar now – it was the scald of a thunderbolt. Nightmare Moon’s weapon of choice.

She could not let this pass. She refused to let Equestria suffer a single moment more of eternal night. Letting the power inherit in her soul as an alicorn flow through her, she reached out to her sun, hidden beneath the shroud of darkness, and willed it to move, just as she did every morning of every day of every month of every year for more than a millennium. The magic was in her bones, it was in her breath, her blood. She could do this in her sleep, if that became necessary, and no mere trip to a hospital was going to stop her from –

Burning, scalding pain shot through her mind like a lance. It felt like her horn was being forcibly wrenched off as a white-hot vice squeezed and twisted her brain. She yelped, cutting off her magic and collapsing to the ground. As the haze of pain dispelled enough to allow coherent thought, the princess realised what had happened. Her injuries were far, far more severe than she had given them credit. The heart-rate monitor sped into a frenzy of beeping.

‘They’ve crippled me, oh heavens they’ve crippled me,’ Celestia’s thoughts screamed as she began to hyperventilate. ‘I can’t touch the sun, it’s too hot, my connection is broken-’

And without a princess to raise the day, Luna stood unrivalled in power. This wasn’t a revolution, this was a usurping. But why? ‘We rule together now, Luna! Didn’t we forgive each other? Haven’t we both suffered enough? You can’t have fallen again, you just can’t!’

But if she did, now was the perfect time. Celestia’s guard was down, and Twilight was at the castle, meaning the Elements of Harmony were separated. Luna could pass it all off as an accident too, a tragic and senseless assault that crippled Equestria’s beloved day-bringer and left only the younger capable of rule. And the Elements of Harmony would never know the truth of what happened to their bookish, clever little scholar.

She needed to escape. Flying was impossible, and her headache made it difficult to focus on any particularly strong or complex spell. But she had to try – she had ruled through over a thousand years and conquered every trial thrown at her. A migrane wasn’t going to stop her from finding her student!

Determined, she rose to her hooves. The room spun slightly, but Celestia gritted her teeth in concentration and her balance became as steady as an Earth Pony’s. She grinned with the little success and stepped forward.

The wires taped to her foreleg were pulled off, and the heart-monitor, devoid of a heart-rate, positively screeched in alarm. Celestia stared behind her at the machine in shock, panicked, and shattered it with a single buck. The machine gave a spluttered, confused groan and went silent, which meant Celestia could pick up the sound of hooves galloping in her direction.

‘Oh now you’ve done it,’ Celestia groaned internally. ‘They know you’re awake. They’re going to catch you now.’ Quickly, she weighed her options.

‘What should I do? Fight? No, I cannot, I might be wrong; they might be trying to help me. And even if they aren’t, I can’t... I can’t hurt my little ponies. Until I find Twilight and figure out what is going on, I need to hide.’ Glancing between the door and the window, Celestia’s horn glowed as she decided on a course of action. ‘Oh, this is going to haunt me in the morning,’ she sighed internally, bracing herself for the ensuing headache.

She cast the spell.

~{C}~

A dark blonde unicorn mare wearing white scrubs embossed with a red cross burst into the room, followed quickly by another two similarly dressed medical ponies and a blue-grey unicorn guard. “Alright, nurse Cherry, I want-” the doctor began, before the sight of the empty room cut her off mid-sentence. The guard behind her immediately charged forward, her eyes widening with shock at the princess’ absence.

“Doctor River Reed! Officer Bright Shield! She’s gone!” gasped one of the ponies behind her, a pastel green Pegasus buck whose special talent must have involved stating the obvious.

Doctor Reed’s eye twitched. ‘Interns,’ she growled mentally. “I am aware of that, Laurel,” she replied, flicking the light switch to ignite the magical lamp on the ceiling and scanning the room. The monitor was demolished, the window was open... something was very off about the room, but she couldn’t place a hoof on it.

“W-what happened?” Laurel asked, his eyes wide.

“Dammit, Laurel, I’m a doctor, not a detective!” Reed snapped, before sighing and giving him an apologetic look. “Sorry, I’m just... This doesn’t look good...” She realised something and glared at the intern. “Hold on, Laurel, Officer Shield, weren’t you supposed to be watching her?”

The intern and the guardspony glanced at each other worriedly. ‘We’re so getting fired,’ they both groaned in mental unison. Bright Shield, her silver armour marking her as one of the Night Guard, Canterlot’s police force, cleared her throat. “I, ah, was speaking to him in the corridor, in order to get a better appraisal of the Princess’ condition.” The Pegasus intern nodded quickly in agreement – a bit too quickly.

“Riiight...” Reed drawled, unconvinced. “Well, we’ll point hooves after we’ve dealt with this situation. If I had to put a bit on what happened here, I’d say that Princess Celestia woke up, got panicked and flew out the window.” She gestured with a hoof for emphasis at the open window.

“I’ll alert the rest of the Guard, she can’t have gotten far,” Bright Shield said, her tone serious. Her horn shone as she left the room and took off at a quick canter.

“She flew? So soon?” Nurse Cherry Balm asked in shock. “But her injuries...”

“Which is exactly why we need to find her,” Reed said firmly. “Laurel, fly out the window, try and talk to her and calm her down if you can. She’ll be disorientated, so be gentle and don’t spook her. Cherry Balm, inform the staff to be on the lookout, she shouldn’t be moving around in her condition.” Reed sighed. “I’ll... ugh, I’ll inform Doctor Coleslaw that the Princess has vanished.”

The two ponies winced in sympathy before they left. Laurel nodded and leaped out the small window, taking flight, and Cherry Balm dashed back from where they came. Reed Rivers gave the hospital room one last worried glance before she turned and cantered towards the Chief of Medicine’s office.

There was a shimmer of magic in the air above the bed around a minute later, and with an audible pop Celestia reappeared. ‘Well that worked well,’ she mused with relief as she got out of the bed, before frowning. ‘Too well.’ She had mustered a small barrier spell, one Twilight, in fact, had pointed out to her several years ago, designed not to block physical objects, but vibrations – including light. With it, she had rendered herself invisible and inaudible to the ponies who had barged in, but on the other hoof she had neither been able to see nor hear them – she only knew they were gone when their scents had faded away from the room. She couldn’t escape the hospital with a spell that rendered her deaf and blind.

‘Still, now I have some time to do something a bit more complex,’ she decided. ‘And I believe I know just the thing.’ Focusing on the spell in mind, she reached out with her magic and filled it into a bubble around her. She floated from the ground the outer edge of the bubble mingled with the light. Her headache pressed down on her, making her falter. The bubble burst, and she fell to the ground with a cry.

‘Focus...’ she told herself, rising to her hooves, pushing past the pain. ‘Breathe and focus. I can do this.’ Her horn shimmered once more, her Unicorn magic once more tapping into the mystic tides of the world. ‘For over a millennium I have brought light to the world, guiding the sun along its circuit in the sky. I have sent light cascading through the clouds, as an artist and as an architect.’

Her wings extended, proud and regal as they shone, the magic of a Pegasus begging the favour of the air. ‘I have used it to paint the morning and evening in pastel symphonies of green and orange. I have kissed the rays of Sol and danced in the photon tide, and it has danced with me, and loved me dearly.’

Her bones ached and her pelt shimmered with the magic of an Earth Pony, pleading to nature and the root of all warmth. ‘Light... remember who brought you to this soft and gentle world, that you might illuminate beauty and joy. I am Celestia. Hear my plea.’

Celestia opened her eyes, and saw nothing. Only darkness was present before her eyes. She focused her attention, and the darkness gave way to the hospital room. Then, she dropped her focus and the darkness snapped protectively back over her.

She smiled. Her spell was a success. Now, the very light of Equestria itself was willing to aid her, cloaking her from anypony’s sight. ‘A fine ally for whatever trial that is in store for me,’ she thought, thanking the light. Anypony else would have dismissed the warmth that descended over her in return as a coincidence, but Celestia knew better. ‘Now then, light, I fear for my most faithful student, Twilight Sparkle. If...’ An image of Twilight, beaten and unmoving, flashed past Celestia’s imagination, and she had to force the fear down. The comforting warmth surrounded her once more, making her coat gleam in the light. Calmed slightly, Celestia continued the request. ‘If she is within your reach, please show me where she may be.’

The dark shroud around her split and a patch of light lit up on the white hospital wall, an image projected upon it. Celestia’s heart soared and tears of relief welled up in her eyes because there, looking absolutely miserable but mercifully, miraculously unharmed was her most precious student Twilight. Celestia’s body shook as she let out a deep breath, the tension in her body uncoiling all at once.

“Bless you,” she thanked the light, before looking more attentively back at the projection of Twilight. She was sitting down in a white room, reading a book – a rather sizable volume, by the look of things. She wanted to believe that was proof that everything was alright, but Celestia knew if disaster struck, Twilight’s first action would be to start pulling books off shelves. Celestia squinted to get a bit more detail of the room from the image. In response, the image expanded and rotated, the viewpoint changing to allow Celestia to see her student’s surrounding. ‘Ah, thank you,’ she smiled sheepishly. Another wash of warmth assured her it was no problem. ‘Tell me; is she in this very hospital?’ The image zoomed in on a plaque on the wall, reading ‘Waiting Room, Canterlot General Medicinal Centre’. ‘I’ll take that as a yes. How do I reach her? Time is of the essence.’ The image turned back to look at Twilight, and then rapidly moved away as if walking backwards. Celestia paid close attention as the image twisted through various white corridors, past patients and doctors and, worryingly, several members of Luna’s silver-clad Night Guard on patrol, before it settled on a door which Celestia presumed was her own.

Thanking the light once more, Celestia excitedly made for the door. After her first few steps, however, she realised a problem. The clatter of her hooves on the hard floor was going to give her presence away to anyone attentive enough to listen. She considered a spell, and her headache returned full force – she knew she couldn’t handle anything extravagant like the vibration-dampening bubble from before. She needed something simple... what would Twilight do?

She glanced over at her bed, recalled Twilight’s fashion designer friend, Rarity, and grinned. ‘Ideee~aaa!’

~{C}~

Sitting in one of the hospital’s private waiting rooms, the unicorn Twilight Sparkle was poring over the medical textbook she had borrowed from one of the doctors when a small hand shook her out of her concentration. “Hey Twi, there’s the doctor!” Spike said, pointing towards the doorway where a familiar blonde unicorn mare was speaking in hushed tones to another doctor pony.

“Excuse me, Dr. Reed?” Twilight called, rising and trotting over to them. She didn’t miss the wince that passed over the doctor’s face before she turned and smiled rigidly at Twilight.

“Hello Miss... Twilight Sparkle, was it?” she enquired sweetly.

“Yes...” The lavender mare nodded, worried about the doctor’s strange attitude. “I was just wondering, when will I be able to visit the Princess?”

The two doctors shared a glance. “Um, in the morning,” Reed said hesitantly. “Visiting hours are over...”

“She’s not...” Twilight’s voice was horrified. “She’s not dying, is she?”

Doctor Reed balked. “What? No! She just needs rest! I...” The other doctor glared at Reed, but the unicorn mare sent one right back at him. “Oh knock it off, Coleslaw! Saying a patient is ‘Not dead’ isn’t a breach of doctor-patient confidentiality!”

“Regardless, nopony can see her at the moment,” Doctor Coleslaw stressed. It was a deliberately deceptive phrashing, considering he knew the truth of Celestia’s disappearance, but he didn’t realise just how ironic his choice of words were.

“But I’m her personal student!” Twilight insisted. “These are exceptional circumstances!”

Reed’s ears fell flat against her head in apology. “I’m sorry, but, um, direct family only; we can’t bend the rules...”

“What’s the real reason?” Twilight demanded, her frayed nerves reducing her patience to ash.

Reed paled at the lavender unicorn’s furious expression, and glanced pleadingly at Coleslaw. Coughing, the other doctor began to imitate a beeping noise under his breath, then took on a look of fake shock. “Dr Reed, did you hear that?”

“What? Oh! Yes! A code, uh, blueberry!” Reed said stiffly. “Sorry Miss Sparkle, duty calls! Just wait there and we’ll get back to you real soon!”

“What’s a code blue?” Twilight frowned.

“A pegusus is, uh, exploding!”

“What.”

“Twice!” Coleslaw said. “Gotta go!”

Twilight frowned as the two doctors turned on their hooves and raced away from the private waiting room. ‘Well that was suspicious. Not to mention unprofessional.’ “Ugh, Spike, can you believe that?”

“I know!” Spike replied, eyes wide with wonder. “Double explosion... Pinkie was right!”

It shouldn’t have surprised her. “No! Not that! They’re refusing to let me see her!” Twilight yelled, making her assistant jump. “And I know why, too! Because I’m the one who put her there!” Her voice hitched and she fell to her haunches, her anger being replaced with guilt.

Spike just sighed. “Aw c’mon, Twilight, you heard the doctor! The Princess is fine. Heck, remember that time you were trailing Pinkie Pie and a piano fell on you? You bounced right back from that!”

The unicorn was unconvinced. “If my spell hadn’t screwed up she wouldn’t have to bounce back from anything in the first place!”

Spike gave her a sceptical look. “Twilight, I was there too, y’know. You weren’t the one who screwed up.”

Twilight was adamant in her self-condemnation. “It was my spell, my experiment, my responsibility...” She hung her head. “My fault.”

“Whatever,” Spike rolled his eyes. “I spotted two other unicorns helping you with that spell there, and I really doubt they had even a handful of your talent. Don’t blame yourself for an accident, okay?”

Twilight smiled weakly, feeling a bit better. “Thanks Spike,” she said to the dragon, who grinned and shrugged. She returned to her seat in the empty waiting room and picked her book back up, finding where she had left off.

Spike’s voice interrupted her studies. “Twilight, I was wondering...”

She looked up from her book. “Yes Spike?”

“Well...” he chuckled, and Twilight knew instantly he was trying to bargain something from her. “On the way over here there were some vending machines that had those geodes I like, the ones with the inlaid ruby filling...”

The lavender unicorn sighed. “You know those aren’t good for you, Spike...”

Spike put on his best puppy eyes. “Please?”

Twilight sighed and shook her head with a weary grin, and levitated several bits from her saddlebag into Spike’s eager hands. “Just be careful not to get a stomach ache,” she warned him.

“Gotcha, thanks!” he grinned, scurrying out the door.

Twilight rolled her eyes but smiled despite herself as she returned to her reading, glad some things, like sweet-toothed assistants, remained constant.

~{C}~

If it weren’t for the circumstances, navigating the corridors of the hospital without sight would have been fascinating. Celestia made a mental note to try it once this she had located Twilight and solved this crisis on Equestria’s head. Perhaps she would even teach Twilight how it was done. Would the light listen to her? She wasn’t an alicorn but if Celestia asked nicely it might comply. At any rate, it would be nice to have something new to show her student, instead of vice-versa. Twilight was becoming quite the magical scientist in recent days, and though she hadn’t said anything to her yet, Celestia was considering her for a position as a consultant and researcher in the Royal Magical Research Foundation that was going to open up in a few month’s time.

She hoped her student would accept. Not only would it be wonderful for her career, it would mean Twilight would be spending more time in Canterlot. In the recent months Celestia found herself becoming less of a teacher to the young lavender unicorn and more of a... she wasn’t sure. Mentor, perhaps? There was a subtle difference between the two - mentors could be friends as well, equals. Their relationship certainly was changing, as Twilight’s research had begun to make developments in the field of magic, making some exciting discoveries that made Celestia’s mind spin with the possible applications to –

There were two blurs of bright yellow and red in her vision, and Celestia had to press herself flat against a wall to avoid colliding with two ponies cantering down the corridor. She frowned, annoyed with herself. ‘Stay focused! If They catch you Twilight will be in danger!’ The thought didn’t exactly make sense, far too paranoid for the Princess any other day, but considering the night she was having she figured it was best to be paranoid and cautious until she had some cards to play in this dire game of theirs.

The blurs of red avoided, Celestia paused to take stock of her surroundings – or at least, what little of it she could see. The light had curved itself around Celestia, leaving her in a protective cloak of shadows and making her perfectly invisible to anypony who might spot her – even Luna, should things come to that. The downside was, of course, that though she was invisible she was also nearly blind. Celestia had been worried about this until her latent magic tingled in her eyes and brought the world into focus - splotches of reds and oranges radiated from heat sources, letting her spot wherever ponies would be. The corridors, doors and other flat surfaces were also laid out in bright bluish light, almost blinding in their intensity.

Celestia had been shocked for a moment before she realised what the light was doing – it was hiding visible light, but allowing infrared and ultraviolet to pass through. The infrared let her see the heat emitted from ponies nearby, and the ultraviolet rays bounced off the heavily bleached and disinfected floors and surfaces to give shape to her surroundings.

Celestia wondered what aspect of her nature allowed her to detect those spectrums. Earth Pony, with their connection to nature? Or was it an aspect of air, something a Pegasus pony could develop with practice? Maybe it was to do with the magical nature of Unicorns... Celestia made a note to ask Twilight about it, surely she would know –

‘Focus, Celestia!’ she screamed internally, her mission brought back into sharp focus at the thought of her most faithful student. She checked her surroundings again, looking around a corner. In the distance there was a large number of heat sources milling around – the hospital lobby, no doubt. She was close.

A door swept open and a short figure strode out, the size of a foal. But his heat signature was a bright yellow, bordering on white, though his outline was a cool blue. Celestia didn’t need to guess that it was a baby dragon, and would bet her cutie mark that she knew who it was.

She’d need to save Spike too, she realised, but first things first. Before the doorway could shut, Celestia slipped in.

~{C}~

Twilight was flicking through the instructions to a burn-healing spell that looked promising when she heard a muffled hoofstep. She blinked and looked up, but saw nopony. “Hello?” she called. “Is somepony there?”

There was a shimmer before her and to her utter shock, Celestia appeared from thin air in a flash of light. For a long moment the teacher and student simply stared at one another – Twilight, for one, was struck by a pang of relief mixed with sorrow to see her mentor in such a state. Wrapped around her head, just to the right of her horn was a thick bandage, and her once pristine coat was marred with bruises and burns. However, two things hadn’t changed: her pastel mane and tail that floated in the solar winds, and the joy that danced in her eyes upon seeing her student.

“Twilight...” she said, tears brimming in her eyes.

“P-princess!” Twilight exclaimed, jumping to her hooves and running towards her. Celestia met her halfway, crouching down to her knees to wrap her neck around Twilight’s in a warm embrace.

“Oh Twilight... oh, thank heavens you’re alright,” the princess whispered in the unicorn’s ear, her voice hitching. “When I woke up, I-I feared the worst.”

Twilight’s heart melted at those words. “Oh Princess, I’m so sorry,” she replied. “I wanted to be there, I told them to let me stay in your room, but they kept deflecting the question.”

“It’s okay, Twilight, I understand. I know their game, but I’m here now anyway.”

Twilight relished the hug a moment longer before pulling away, taking a good look at Celestia. “About that, why are you here? Shouldn’t you be in bed? You look –” ‘Beautiful, even with the wounds’. “- terrible. I mean, you’re still pretty, but...”

“Oh yes, I daresay battle wounds are not quite in vogue this season,” chuckled Celestia, glancing ruefully at her ruined coat. She gave her singed wings a weak flutter. “Imagine greeting guests at the Gala like this! ’My wings are so pretty!’ Think it’ll be a hit?”

“Mmm, a bit too avant-garde, as Rarity would put it,” Twilight giggled, more out of relief than anything else.

“Yes, well...” Celestia chuckled, rising to her feet. Her head spun at the sudden movement and she lost balance, her legs failing beneath her. She didn’t hit the ground, though. Twilight’s horn shone with magic, halting the princess’ fall. She beamed with gratitude. “Thank you, Twilight. I seem to have trouble balancing lately.”

“Not a problem, in that case we’ll sit,” she replied in a matter-of-fact tone, levitating Celestia towards the chairs. Celestia watched in amusement as Twilight quickly pulled cushions from chairs to create a comfy spot for her.

The princess coughed politely when Twilight began for frown, scrutinizing pile with an unsatisfied expression. Blinking, Twilight blushed and lowered Celestia onto the pile. “Ah, much better,” the princess said wryly, causing the unicorn to look away sheepishly.

“I got you something,” Twilight said suddenly. “For when you woke up... well, you’re awake now, so here.” Her horn glowed and a beautiful bouquet of flowers floated towards Celestia from behind the chairs. Celestia’s eyes softened as she saw it, and she leaned in to smell them as Twilight continued to babble. “I mean, they’re just from the gift shop, but when I said it was for the princess they took about three of the flower bundles and just went crazy. D-do you like it?”

Celestia smiled. “Twilight, they’re beautiful.” She leaned forward and plucked one of the poppies from the arrangement, chewing it. “Mmm, fresh too.”

Twilight gave her a relieved smile. “Oh good. I figured, hey, hospital food isn’t exactly fit for a princess so...” Twilight paused, noticing something. “Princess, why are you wearing socks?”

Celestia looked at her in confusion. “Hmm?” she murmured vacantly, chewing on a mouthful of bouquet. She swallowed, blinked, and went back to the bouquet.

“Um, Princess?” Twilight asked cautiously, raising an eyebrow. When the alicorn looked back up, Twilight waved a hoof towards Celestia’s own. “Socks?”

The princess blinked and looked down to her legs, noting the garments in question. “Ah yes, I forgot about those. I needed to muffle my hoofsteps, while I was invisible.” She raised her forehoof and showed them off to Twilight. “I made them from the bedsheets, and though I’m no fashionista like your friend Rarity I must say I’m growing fond of them.” She gave her student a teasing smile. “How do they look?”

“They’re, um...” Twilight coughed, looking flushed under her lavender coat. “They’re nice, yes. Very nice.”

Celestia grinned and was about to make another comment when suddenly she was overtaken by a powerful urge to yawn. “Oh, I apologise,” she said through it, covering her mouth. “I’m just so tired, and my headache...”

“You’d best get back to bed,” Twilight smiled.

Celestia nodded idly for a moment, biting back another yawn, but then she froze. “No, I cannot. We need to escape.”

Twilight was startled by her sudden serious tone. “W-what? From who?”

“I... I don’t know,” Celestia admitted, her expression worried. “But it’s not safe here. Be casual and get Spike, and then we’re leaving. Don’t let the guards see you. We’ll have to hide out somewhere. Don’t worry, I may be hurt but They won’t get us.”

Twilight frowned anxiously. “Princess, you’re not making any sense. Is somepony after us?”

“You don’t know?” Celestia’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Oh, of course you don’t know, otherwise you would have fetched me sooner...” She sighed, relief in her voice. “Oh thank heavens, you haven’t been caught up in it yet. They don’t know I’ve found you. This gives us time, time enough to reach Ponyville perhaps, gather the other Elements...”

“Princess, slow down!” the unicorn begged, becoming increasingly worried. “What are you talking about?”

“You mean it hasn’t occurred to you yet?” Celestia was honestly surprised. “Twilight, whoever assaulted me was obviously powerful and obviously had an agenda.”

Twilight’s eyes widened in shock. “Princess, that’s not-”

“We can’t afford to wait,” Celestia said, not registering Twilight’s words. “Their agents could be moving at this very moment.”

“What-?” the unicorn asked again.

“The Elements worked twice before, they’ll work again. The fate of Equestria could depend on–!”

“Princess!” Twilight practically shouted.

Celestia recoiled, wincing. “Twilight, please, speak softly! I have a headache, it was hard enough finding you with it.”

“I’ll bet,” the unicorn remarked, looking up at the gauzed bandage at side of Celestia’s skull. “Princess, do you trust me?”

The princess stared incredulously at her student. “Of course I do! Are you not my most faithful student?” She lowered her head and nuzzled the unicorn’s cheek. “I trust you implicitly, Twilight, for your character and capabilities both. You know I do.”

Twilight blushed, savouring the praise for a moment, before pulling away and looking Celestia in the eye. “Then, if I tell you that you’re safe here, that nopony is after us, will you calm down?”

Celestia hesitated. “A-are you... there isn’t-?”

“Trust me, Celestia,” the lavender pony said soothingly. “You’re safe here. We both are.”

“T-then Luna...?”

“Luna?” Twilight asked, before smiling again. “She’s fine, she was worried and wanted to visit, but she had to stay at the castle and calm everypony at the Court down.”

“So didn’t she – I...” Celestia couldn’t articulate her fears, that this was exactly what she was afraid of. Luna had crippled her, and was playing innocent. But Twilight would be able to tell, wouldn’t she? “But I don’t... I don’t understand why... the sun...”

“Celestia, calm down, please...” Twilight begged. “Please, just look at me.”

Celestia complied, looking into her student’s eyes as they searched for something. “I thought so...” Twilight muttered. “Princess, your eyes are dilated.” When the alicorn frowned in confusion, she elaborated. “One of the pupils is larger than the other. Your eyes aren’t focusing well either. You said you have a headache?” Celestia nodded, beginning to understand, though Twilight’s diagnosis made it clear.

“Princess, I believe you have a concussion, a rather bad one,” the unicorn said with no small certainty. She levitated her medical book towards them and flicked through the pages. “Let’s see, ‘concussion’, ‘concussion’... aha, here we go.” She cleared her throat. “Physical symptoms of a concussion include: dizziness, loss of balance, loss of motor control, nausea, et cetera, et cetera... mental symptoms: confusion, disorientation, lack of focus and post-traumatic amnesia.”

Celestia blinked. “A concussion? Are you certain?”

“Fairly certain,” Twilight nodded. “You said yourself earlier you’ve been dizzy, right? Trouble with balance. And you’ve definitely got some signs of confusion. You’ve trailed off a few times while we were talking...” Twilight paused, noticing Celestia’s unfocused gaze. “... like that.”

Celestia blinked and looked back at Twilight. “A concussion?”

The unicorn didn’t know whether to laugh or sob. “U-um, yes, definitely,” she said neutrally, glancing back at the book. “I also suspect you’re suffering from a touch of trauma-related amnesia, it was a nasty bump on the head...” She glanced between the book and Celestia’s head wound before continuing. “But the book says your memory should return sooner or later. Tell me, what is the last thing you remember?”

Celestia thought back. “It was just after dawn. You had yet to arrive in Canterlot. Luna said she wanted to give me the day off to spend with you so she promised to handle Court, and since I hadn’t slept well, I took a nap. When I woke up, I was here, covered in bruises. I...” Celestia’s voice hitched, and tears welled unbidden at her eyes. “I can’t touch the sun. It burnt me when I tried.”

Twilight’s eyes softened with sympathy, realising how frightened Celestia must have been. She leaned forward and pressed her neck to her mentor’s in a comforting hug, helping to calm her down. “So, you don’t remember me arriving at the castle?” Twilight felt Celestia shake her head. “What about the experiment we had scheduled in the evening?” she said, so quiet it was almost a whisper. “Do you remember that?” Again, a shake of her head. “You don’t remember setting the sun?”

Celestia jolted upright. “I set the sun?”

“You tried to, but...” Twilight hesitated, fear in her expression. Still, she gritted her teeth and forced the words out. “Celestia, this is all my fault. The experiment, it went badly, catastrophically bad. You stayed there to try and calm it down while the rest of us evacuated the lab, but...” The unicorn glanced at Celestia’s burns, looking as if she were about to cry. “But, you got up, straight away almost, and you said you were fine, but when you tried to lower the sun, y-you...” Twilight’s lips quivered, and she began blubbering, her dam of guilt bursting inside of her. “Luna had to grab the sun before you hurt yourself further, and, and I panicked and teleported us both, and I went to the hospital instead of the medical ward of the castle because I wasn’t thinking straight and m-my mommy, I mean, mom and dad always took me here when I was a little filly whenever I needed some stitches or something and I was really scared and please don’t hate me...”

“Shh, shh, Twilight, I don’t hate you, I love you so, you know that,” Celestia assured the crying unicorn, extending her wings to wrap her in a feathery embrace. Twilight pressed her head into the alicorn’s side, sobbing harder as she unloaded the stress of the past day, dampening her mentor’s white coat with tears. “It’s not your fault, Twilight, I believe in you. It was an accident, I’m sure, n-nopony has done anything w-wrong...” Celestia choked, her throat suddenly constricted and hot tears pouring from her own eyes.

Twilight felt the tears land on her pelt and looked up at her teacher. “A-are you crying? Why?”

“I’m just...” Celestia hesitated. ‘So ashamed I doubted my sister,’ said her thoughts. ‘I don’t deserve the love she had given me.’ “... so relieved everypony is alright,” she finished, smiling at Twilight. The unicorn smiled back, her anxiety visibly fading away. Celestia raised a hoof to wipe her eyes, realised what was still there and grinned with amusement. “Aha, socks!” she declared, drying her eyes with ease. “So many uses! I should commemorate their inventor!”

Twilight giggled, letting the princess’ sock-clad hoof dry her eyes as well. “A national sock appreciation day?”

“Why not?” Celestia joked. “A thousand years of rule, I deserve to pass at least a few eccentric laws now and then!”

The lavender mare gave her a wry look. “And if ponies find it strange, you can say Luna thought of it?”

Celestia tried and failed not to laugh. “Oh Twilight, we’ll make a politician out of you yet!”

The sound of hooves and hushed arguing outside the waiting room drew their attention to the door. The tone of the voices became decisive and one set of hooves walked away. Immediately after that, the door opened suddenly and Dr Reed strode in. “Miss Sparkle, I’m afraid we haven’t been completely frank with you. You see...” She froze, only now noticing the very Princess they had been combing the hospital for, curled up on the pile of cushions beside the lavender unicorn, who was giving the doctor a very flat look.

“I take it somepony or other has been looking for me?” Celestia asked, amused by the doctor’s surprised expression.

“You know, all this could have been avoided if you had let me visit her,” Twilight said pointedly.

“Right!” squeaked Reed. “Well! I’ll tell everypony to call off the search. Your majesty, um... stay put. Doctor’s orders.”

“I’ll do my best,” Celestia smiled. “Thank you all for worrying so much about my welfare.”

River Reed nodded, opened her mouth to say something else, then shut it. Nodding rigidly once more, she made an about face and dashed away, mortified.

‘This has been a learning experience,’ Celestia decided, amused. And she had heard hospitals were boring.

The door opened again and a familiar baby dragon sauntered in. “Hey Twi, I got you a caramel carrot...” Spike began, but he paused when he saw Celestia. “Oh, hey Princess! I told Twilight you’d be up soon. I, uh, I only got one caramel carrot, so...”

“Oh you needn’t worry, Spike,” Celestia smiled gratefully, levitating her flowers in front of her. “I have a bouquet.”

“Oh, cool. Heh, you know that was my idea?” Spike began on one of his rambling tales. “Yeah, Twilight was all stressed out, so I says to her, I says...”

As Spike’s embellished tale began to grow in earnest, Celestia relaxed for the first time since she woke, and found her eyes closing. At ease once more, Celestia fell sound asleep.

~{C}~

Celestia dreamed.

She saw...

A peaceful, moonlit sky.

She smelled...

Disinfectant, and her beloved student’s scent.

She heard...

Spike, spinning a tall tale.

She felt...

Twilight, tucked protectively under her wing, pressed close to her side.

She tasted...

Flowers.

~{C}~

Composure, Chapter 1, end

~{C}~

Chapter 2 - Confrontation

Composure

by Varanus

A MLP:FiM fanfiction.

~{C}~

Chapter 2 - Confrontation

~{C}~

Emerging from the haze of sleep, Celestia blearily opened her eyes. Yawning, she lifted her head from her pillow before tensing up. ‘Where am I?’

“Princess Celestia? Are you awake?” a blessedly familiar voice asked hesitantly. The princess looked in the direction of the voice to see her student, Twilight Sparkle, standing at the doorway, giving her a concerned look.

“T-Twilight, where –?” Celestia began, before flinching as a headache unexpectedly throbbed beneath her skull.

Twilight noticed the flinch immediately. “Ah, right! Hold on a second, Princess!” Her horn glowed and a small bag of water floated into the air. She concentrated and the water froze instantly. One last push of magic crushed the ice into slush, contained within the waterproof bag. Pleased, she levitated the bag over to Celestia, resting it on her forehead.

Relief from the throbbing pain came instantly in cooling waves. The princess sighed blissfully. “Oh, that is much better...”

“I thought it would be,” said Twilight, smiling and trotting over to Celestia’s bedside. She hopped up slightly, resting her forehooves on the rail of the hospital bed, and fixed her mentor with a concerned look. “So, how do you feel? Are you still disorientated?”

Celestia pulled her mind away from basking in the ice bag’s soothing coolness. She cast her mind back, piecing together what had happened. ‘I’m in a hospital... I woke up here yesterday, didn’t I? And... and I thought that...’ “I remember waking up here, and finding you, yes,” she nodded, and smiled apologetically. “Nothing before that, I’m afraid. How long was I asleep?”

“Most of the night, which is good,” said Twilight. “Best way to cure a concussion is to just sleep it off. I was worried you were going to wake up disorientated after an hour like earlier.”

“I was only asleep an hour last time?” Celestia asked, surprised.

The unicorn shook her head. “Not even.” Her eyes glanced at a clock on the wall as she figured out the timeframe. “Let’s see, sunset was at seven, then y-you...” Pausing, she swallowed a lump in her throat. Celestia said nothing, letting the unicorn silently push past the memory. “I teleported us to the hospital then. You, Spike and I. You actually got up after about five minutes and asked for a place to rest, so they took you to a bed, but you only slept for about forty minutes before, well...” She chuckled ruefully. “It’s stupid, because logically I knew you were probably disorientated, but after I teleported us here, it was like you didn’t even see me. I thought you h-hated-”

Celestia didn’t even give her student a chance to finish the thought. “Twilight, I woke up battered and disorientated, and the first thing I did was seek you out.” She placed a hoof over Twilight’s. “You needn’t fear that my love is conditional.”

Twilight smiled widely, though something sad was glimmering at the back of her eyes. “I know. Logically, I do know, I’ve just been... I’ve b-been a bit of a wreck since the accident. You really scared me for a second, and you were acting so off afterwards...” She pulled her hooves from the bed and trotted over to her saddlebags. They opened magically and a hefty medical tome floated from it. “I mean, the book says that irritability is one of the symptoms of a concussion, so that explains that, aha...”

Celestia frowned, concerned. “I didn’t say something harsh, did I? If I did, I apologise.”

“Why, is there something you’re not telling me?” Twilight said, laughing a little nervously. Celestia wasn’t sure how much of it was meant as a joke. Her laughter limply petered out regardless as she rested the book back into her saddlebag. “Don’t worry about it. You didn’t do anything wrong, except for trying to raise the sun even when the castle medics told you to rest. Nothing worth remembering...”

Celestia nodded, resting her head back down onto the pillow, being careful not to dislodge the icepack resting behind her horn. Shutting her eyes, she focused on that coolness and eased her breathing in order to soothe her mind, entering a state of peace. It was an old piece of unicorn meditation that she could call up at any moment, so well-versed she was in using it. Taking care to simply bask in its warmth rather than reach out and grasp it, she searched for her connection to the sun. To her immense relief, it greeted her like an old friend.

“It is... three in the morning?” Celestia hazarded a guess based on the sun’s position on the other side of the globe. She saw a clock on the wall which read two-thirty, causing her to frown. ‘This headache must be putting me off,’ she grumbled internally. She paused, and suddenly felt foolish. ‘Why didn’t I just check the clock in the first place...?’

She heard Twilight mumble something. “Okay, I definitely think I screwed things up here...”

Celestia looked over from her hospital bed, seeing her student peeking out of the small window, tugging the binds aside with her magic. “Why do you say that?” she asked.

Twilight let the blinds snap back in place. “There’s a crowd of reporters outside the hospital. I’m guessing news spread fast that you were hospitalized, which wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t panicked and teleported you here in the first place.”

“I for one find it commendable you acted so quickly to aid a loved one,” the princess said with a soft smile.

Twilight blushed and scuffed at the floor sheepishly. “Still, I should have known to trust the castle’s medical staff.” The lavender mare dropped her head slightly. “Magic needs a cool head, I could have made things worse when I teleported...”

“Then that’s the next lesson you should learn.” Celestia suddenly had to stifle a yawn. She was still so tired! “But you can’t blame yourself for this, Twilight,” she continued after a moment. “When something happens to the royalty, things become sensationalised. When something involves an alicorn, things become escalated." She paused once more, deep in thought. “If word has gotten out, we should be candid and reassure the populace. Can you see which reporters are there?”

“I don’t know one reporter from another, Princess,” the unicorn said, glancing back through the blinds.

“Well, do you spot an Earth pony with a blonde mane –” Celestia began, before pausing as a thought struck her. ‘Light?’ she asked silently. A wave of warmth spread over her like a blanket and she smiled. “Twilight, come here, I want to show you something.

She trotted towards her bed once again, looking curious as to why Celestia was smiling so secretively. “What is it?”

“Well...” Celestia began. “Yesterday, I discovered something. We’ve known for a long time the magical properties of sunlight, yes?”

Twilight nodded. “Light is the source of magic, because it feeds all life,” she said, as if reciting from a textbook. She probably was, Celestia mused. “It soaks into Equestria’s soil and saturates the land with magical power, which all ponies tap into in different ways. For Unicorns, sunlight is a boon to all magic, particularly growing, transformation and transmigration magic, while moonlight is subtle and lends itself towards illusional, emotional and dream magic.”

“Precisely, Twilight,” her mentor said with a nod, pleased and a little amused by the unicorn’s thorough answer. “The sun is the root of magic, but the moon’s closer proximity allows it to affect the tides of mysticism in subtle ways, much like it affects the tides of the ocean each day.” She tapped her hoof to her chin in thought. “In fact, I suspect a renaissance of dream and illusion magic is approaching now that Luna has returned to her duties.” She chuckled and shook her head. “But that’s neither here nor there. Observe.”

The wall lit up as a circle of light fell against it. “Princess, no magic!” Twilight said sternly.

Celestia grinned. “I’m not doing anything.” Turning to the patch of light on the wall, she politely asked, “Could you show me what the crowd outside looks like?”

The light quickly shifted to an image of a small crowd of reporters milling around just outside the hospital. She recognised a few, such as the Earth pony she had asked of earlier, a grey Earth pony mare with a blue-tinted mane, and a white pegasus with a rose mane and a scroll as a cutie mark. “Dime Dozen, Snazzy Scoop... and somepony from the Equestria Daily,” Celestia remarked. “My, word has spread.”

Twilight was more interested in the projection itself rather than the ponies it displayed. “Is this some sort of scrying spell?” She glanced at Celestia’s horn, confused. “B-but you’re not using magic, so how are you doing this?”

“I’m not!” the princess replied playfully. “Last night, when I woke up and discovered I was cut off from the sun, I became somewhat desperate. So, with the same powers I’ve used every day to move the sun, I reached out and asked the light I had shepherded to Equestria for help... and it answered.”

“Sentient light?” an awestruck Twilight asked.

Celestia thought about it. “Hmm... no, I wouldn’t quite say sentient. But it has memory, certainly. It remembered me and helped me find you. Now, it seems to recognise my voice...”

The lavender unicorn raised an eyebrow. “And you just discovered it yesterday?”

“I never had cause to discover it before yesterday,” Celestia admitted, smiling at her student warmly. “Wonders never cease, it seems.”

The moment was broken by a knock on the door, which opened without waiting for a reply. Both mares were a little surprised to see Spike poke his head in, since they had been expecting a much taller doctor or guard pony. “Oh hey, Princess, you’re up!” he grinned, and then glanced back out the door. “Uh, there’s one of the Palace Guards here for ya. He’s been here a while now.”

Celestia nodded. “Alright, could you be a dear and send him in for me?” she asked politely. She glanced over to the wall projection, willing it to vanish.

The baby dragon grinned, not noticing the light blip out. “Sure thing!”

Celestia adjusted herself in her bed, settling just as the gold-clad guard walked into the hospital room, followed by a silver-clad Night Guard. “Your Majesty? It’s good to see you awake and well. Are you up to moving?” the palace guard asked.

“I believe so, Captain Steel Wing,” the princess smiled, recognising her trustworthy guard.

Steel Wing nodded. “Princess Luna will be relieved. We’ve arranged a chariot to bring you back to the castle.”

“In the middle of the night?” Twilight frowned.

“It’s best if we keep this incident relatively quiet, to avoid alarming the populace,” the Palace Guard replied. The Night Guard rolled her eyes but said nothing.

“Excuse me, officer,” Celestia addressed the silver-clad unicorn, having caught her expression. “What is your name?”

The guard started, nervous. “Oh! Officer Bright Shield, your majesty! I apologise for...”

“Expressing an opinion?” Celestia said wryly. Bright Shield bit her lip, sheepish at the princess’ knowing look as she continued. “So then, Officer Bright Shield. I would like to hear you voice that opinion. It is clearly a powerful one.”

Bright Shield glanced nervously at the princess, then, surprisingly, at Twilight. It took the lavender mare a second before she realised the guard was looking to her for some sort of affirmation. Did she think the princess was playing a game here? Since when did Twilight become some sort of royal liaison? Feeling somewhat strange at the thought, the lavender mare nodded encouragingly.

“Well, Princess,” Bright Shield began carefully. “Word has already gotten out. Not many were in the hospital foyer when you and Miss Sparkle appeared, but there were enough. Now, the Night Guard has remained vigilant and tight-lipped about everything, but paparazzi have shown up regardless. I strongly recommend having a few words with the ones out there, unless you want the front page on every newspaper in Equestria to be speculating how long it will be until the horn rot sets in completely or how soon it will be before the dragon ninjas that attacked you will wait before striking Luna as well.” Pausing, the Night Guard mare caught the Palace Guard’s sceptical look. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. Those are actually the going theories.”

“It would be best to reassure the populace then.” Celestia nodded in understanding. “Still, although my injuries weren’t very severe I’ve been having concentration problems, so something tells me an interview wouldn’t be wise...”

“Not to mention we still don’t know how the experiment went wrong...” Twilight mentioned.

The princess cleared her throat, coming to a decision. “Steel Wing, bring the chariot out in front of the hospital so the ponies can see me as I leave. Bright Shield, please announce that I won’t be taking questions or making any statements.” She smiled, amused. “Instead, tell them that we’ll be having a press conference at a more reasonable hour.”

Both guards snapped a salute and exited the room. Once the door closed, the princess began to rise from the bed, pushing the covers off and gingerly stepping off. Twilight stood ready to catch her should her legs fail, but mercifully Celestia found she was able to stand steadily. She took a few experimental steps forward, her hooves gently clicking on the floor as she moved.

“Don’t push yourself too hard...” Twilight warned in a worried tone.

Celestia smiled. “I need to do this, at least,” she explained, walking carefully towards a chair where her regalia were neatly stacked. “I’ve given the ponies a scare; they need to see me walk out of this hospital under my own power.”

The unicorn frowned. “And how are you going to hide your burn? It’s not exactly inconspicuous.”

Celestia glanced at her side once more and regarded the jagged strips of bare skin with a note of sadness. She could tell the burn had already started to heal, but it was such a shame to see her coat in such a state. She wasn’t a vain being, but nopony could deny she had pride... but more than that, how could she let her ponies see such an obvious crack in the icon they placed so much faith in?

The solution to the problem was obvious, of course. “Oh, I have an idea or two...” Celestia answered Twilight playfully. Seeing her questioning look, the princess leaned conspiratorially towards her student. “Would you like to know one of the greatest benefits I have as Princess of Equestria?”

She had to struggle to keep herself from giggling when Twilight’s eyes went wide with wonder. “It would be an honour, Princess!” the lavender mare gushed.

Celestia smiled sweetly. “I find the greatest benefit is the privilege of having the most powerful and talented unicorn in the history of Equestria as my personal protégé.”

Twilight’s brows furrowed, and Celestia could practically hear her about to ask ‘who?’ before comprehension dawned across her features. “O-oh,” she muttered, failing to suppress a wide, bashful smile at the praise.

Celestia smiled teasingly and lifted her wing so Twilight could better see the burn. “Why, I daresay it would be well within her abilities to hide a blemish such as this, don’t you think?”

The unicorn’s expression shifted, and by the look of her eyes, Celestia knew Twilight had seen the unspoken challenge laid down in front of her. “Well...” the unicorn said thoughtfully, examining the jagged patch of red skin closely. “If it doesn’t have to stand to close scrutiny, then maybe I...” She paused, internally debating something, before glancing back up at her mentor. “I-I think I have an idea, but the illusion will be more convincing if I can layer more than just one sense onto it.” She hesitated, giving her mentor a quick glance, before tenderly nuzzling the white coat of her shoulder.

Celestia was a bit surprised by the not-unwelcome show of affection, but as the unicorn’s horn lit with magic it dawned on her what her student was attempting. Twilight inhaled deeply, and her horn surged with the magical light. A glittering aura spread over Celestia, little motes of light that quickly began to dance over her battered body. Twilight then exhaled, and the spell surged into the princess, enveloping her completely.

Celestia closed her eyes for a moment as the spell washed over her, opening her eyes just as Twilight did the same. “How do I look?” the princess asked teasingly. Twilight only gaped, her expression a mix of wide-eyed wonder and silent horror. Now feeling genuinely nervous about the spell’s results, Celestia glanced around for a nonexistent mirror before instead reaching out for the light. ‘If it’s not too trivial, may I...’ She didn’t even get a chance to finish the thought as her image appeared on the adjacent wall.

For a moment, she too was stunned, but then her eyes lit up with joy. “Oh... oh, Twilight... this is marvellous...”

~{C}~

Outside the hospital, the reporters refused to budge, much to Officer Bright Shield’s frustration. The grey mare recited her announcement for the umpteenth time through gritted teeth, that neigh, there would be no interviews, and neigh, the princess was not going to leave a comment. Her eye twitched as Dime Dozen began to needle her for details, and as loyal as she was to the princesses, she knew that the sooner Celestia hopped on her chariot and went home, the better.

Her relief was nearly palpable, then, when she heard clinking of the Palace Guard’s armour as they marched through the hospital doors. Ignoring the reporters’ excited chatter, she turned with the rest of her Night Guard colleagues to pay respect to their ruler’s presence – and promptly found her jaw, like theirs, hanging limp in awe.

The word had been used to describe her many times before, but never was the word more appropriate than this moment. Celestia was radiant. Her coat was pristine and white as a dove, soft and bright as if emitting a subtle glow. Her wings were open, wide and welcoming without a single feather so much as crooked, let alone singed. Her gait was slow and easy, and her head was held high and proud, smiling softly at her assembled subjects as her dawn-hued mane billowed majestically in the ethereal breeze. Like a dream, she crossed the short distance to the chariot and stepped lightly aboard, followed practically unseen by a lavender unicorn carrying a baby dragon on her back.

Princess Celestia gave the crowd a wave as the chariot lurched forward. Flanked by the Palace Guardsmen and lead by Captain Steel Wing, they soared into the night sky. In the wake of her absence, the trance Celestia’s vision-like appearance had set over the crowd slowly faded. There was a moment of stunned silence before the reporters collectively groaned – they had failed to take so much as a single photograph.

Bright Shield chuckled. ‘Well played, Your Majesty.’

~{C}~

Canterlot under the clear night sky was a wonder to behold, even more so after Luna’s return to her duties.

Twilight, however, found her hooves to be of far more interest.

‘A Perception Projection spell? Of all things, you cast a Perception Projection spell?!’ She groaned, refusing to look up lest the princess see the blush blazing across her features. ‘What exactly were you thinking when you cast a spell that makes others perceive what you perceive?!’

It was a simple spell that did exactly what its name implied – it projected the spellcaster’s perception of an object or pony onto the object or pony itself. It was a parlour trick, taught to young unicorns everywhere as a thought exercise. Imagine that the blue ball is green, that sort of thing. It was simple to pull off, but hard to make look realistic, for obvious reasons – both powerful imagination, attention to detail and familiarity with the subject were needed.

Being Princess Celestia’s most faithful student, Twilight was obviously very familiar with the alicorn in question. It should have been elementary for her to just brush against her to familiarize herself with the texture of her mentor’s coat, and to simply layer the illusion over the burn.

Instead, Twilight wasn’t sure what had happened. She had brushed her muzzle against Celestia’s shoulder...

... feeling the rustle of her soft, pristine pelt, smelling of spiced soap and sandalwood, over strong, supple muscle, radiating a gentle power, a bastion of warmth and sleepy bliss...

... and the spell had slipped from her horn like a song, an ode to the princess, the mare she...

Twilight didn’t like the direction her thoughts were leading her. She really, really did not like it.

Because she already knew the only possible outcome.

‘I thought I left this behind me,’ she scolded herself, schooling her expression in an effort to prevent the princess beside her from catching wind of her stormy emotions. ‘But to be proven wrong by my own illusion... stupid. When other unicorns’ spells go wrong they fail horribly. But noooo, for me they go wrong by working even better than I ever needed... or wanted.’

~{C}~

In contrast to Twilight, Celestia could barely contain her mirth. ‘Oh, I really shouldn’t have done that...’ she thought guiltily, her hoof pressing against her mouth to smother an onset of giggles. It had been a sneaky trick, but in her defence she hadn’t exactly planned it, she had merely taken advantage of Twilight’s magnificent illusion and played it to its maximum potential. ‘Then again, I don’t plan most things I do,’ she reminded herself, still grinning. She had learned long ago that the best way to rule was to observe all possible variables in a situation and then to simply guide those myriad factors into the outcome she desired. When somepony – namely, herself – tried to directly control everything, things got... messy, for lack of a better word.

‘No, it is best to encourage mutual trust and loyalty in one’s subjects, so that everypony can live a prosperous life.’ Celestia finished her thought with a satisfied smile, before pausing. ‘Wait, what was I thinking about...?’ For the life of her she couldn’t remember how her train of thought had derailed into leadership philosophy. ‘This concussion is... very frustrating,’ she groaned internally. As she probed her mind, her eyes wandered to her student, whose eyes were fixed firmly on her own hooves.

“Are you afraid of heights?” Celestia asked playfully. “Don’t worry, if you fall, I’ll catch you.”

“You’re in no condition to fly and you know it, Princess,” Twilight reminded her, not playing along with the game. “Those feathers are just an illusion...”

‘Ah, right! The illusion!’ Her memory jogged, Celestia’s grin widened. “And what an illusion it is!” she said, admiring her pristine wings. ‘You know what? My wings are so pretty.’ In her opinion, since it was also complimenting her student’s skills, it was alright to indulge in a moment of vanity. “Spike, your verdict?”

“Lookin’ great, Princess,” the baby dragon agreed. “Twilight really outdid herself on this one!” The unicorn only shrank further down, studying the floor of the chariot with as much zeal as she would a brand new encyclopaedia.

“Are you embarrassed?” Celestia teased her student, dusting her wing along Twilight’s side. The lavender unicorn jolted in shock at the touch, and the princess found herself having to suppress another bout of giggles. “My, tonight you’re as jumpy as you are modest.”

Twilight bit her lip. “S-sorry, I just didn’t expect you to parade in front of everypony like that,” she explained.

“They expected a cripple. Best to defy prediction, I find,” Celestia said sagely, before once again admiring the shimmer of the illusion across her coat. “But really, Twilight, you’ve outdone yourself here. Elegant yet complex... is it an Inner Bloom spell?” She thought about it a moment, before dismissing the guess. “No, it’s only skin deep... a Duplicated Image from my coat, weaved with a Radiance spell? No, no, it only appears to radiate light, it’s all in my mind... hmm, not my mind per say... my, this is tough...”

As she continued to rattle off guesses as to the nature of the illusion, her student slowly lifted her head in disbelief. Unseen, her face was painted a mix of expressions, as if her heart was being painfully torn between relief and disappointment. “I’m not telling,” she said softly, looking straight ahead. If Celestia hadn’t been standing right beside her she might not have caught it.

“Pardon?” the princess asked.

“I’m not going to tell you about the spell,” the lavender mare said a little louder. “But maybe you’ll figure it out, eventually.”

Celestia frowned slightly. Not out of disappointment, but concern – it wasn’t like Twilight to act so down. On the unicorn’s back, Spike leaned forward. “Twilight?” he asked, worried about her tone. “Are you alright?”

She glanced back at him and gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m pretty tired, and the wind is hurting my eyes a little.” Sure enough, the young dragon could see a faint dampness around them.

The chariot began to descend over the lights of Canterlot, and Celestia looked up from her student to see the familiar sight of her castle below. “You’ve had a long day,” she said, enveloping both Twilight and Spike in a feathery embrace. Raising her head, she caught Captain Steel Wing’s attention. “Captain, despite my rest at the hospital I am still quite exhausted. Is there any pressing issue I must attend to upon my return?”

“Not at all,” the Pegasus guard replied, keeping up with the chariot easily. “I believe Princess Luna is attending court, so will I send for her when we arrive?”

Celestia smiled. “Please do. Although, would it be too much trouble to drop us off directly at my tower?”

“No trouble at all, your Majesty,” Steel Wings nodded, accelerating to the front and directing the movement of the chariot towards the tower in question. The castle loomed before them, and quick as a sparrow the Pegasus charioteers weaved through the golden towers and domes of building before alighting atop the bridge that joined the tallest tower, Celestia’s private quarters, to the rest of the castle.

Celestia, caught on a giddy whim, jumped playfully off the chariot. Her wings shot open to slow her decent, though it was shaky – her wings really were just for show at the moment. She landed before the tower doors, wobbling slightly as she fought for balance. Finding purchase on the rough marble, she turned back to the guardsmen - and stifled a bout of laughter when she saw the identical aghast expressions painted on everypony’s faces, including Steel Wing and Twilight. Her student in particular looked like she wanted to put her right back into the hospital, which Celestia could only think of as adorably hilarious. ‘If anypony asks, I can blame the head wound.’ In a heartbeat her mischievous smile shifted smoothly into a genuinely appreciative one. “Thank you so much for your concern and dedication, gentlecolts,” she thanked her guards.

As her student hopped down from the chariot with Spike in tow, Steel Wing gave her a cautious look, being the only pony besides Twilight to catch the princess’ playful, and thus for him troublesome, expression. “Will you require an escort?” he asked, eying her as she swayed slightly from side to side.

“I have one,” she replied, extending a wing to frame Twilight. “But thank you, all of you. You are all a credit to the crown.” She gave them a grateful bow, and the guards responded with a deep bow of their own. Rising, she smiled. “That will be all for tonight on my part, take care.”

The captain nodded and, together with the charioteers, took off into the night sky, heading for the castle barracks. Celestia smiled at her student. “Could you get the door?” Twilight glanced at the tower door – the heavy, double-height, foot-thick stone door. Smiling back, she nodded. Her horn glowing, she opened it with ease.

“I’m guessing I’m going to be relying on you quite a bit for the next few days,” Celestia said appreciatively to the lavender mare. To that, Twilight only smiled shyly.

~{C}~

As they walked through the tower towards her chambers, Celestia and Twilight chatted lightly, with Spike silently trying to stay awake. The princess was pleased to note she had successfully drawn her protégé from the shell she had fallen under on the chariot ride, and chalked it up to stress and fatigue. It had been a trying day for all of them, after all.

“I can’t believe how tired I am,” Celestia chuckled as she and Twilight walked past the final set of guards stationed outside the hall leading to her chambers. They snapped a salute, and she made a point of giving them an appreciative smile. “Thank you sirs.”

The two stallions stood a little prouder at the acknowledgement.

Twilight gave them a smile too as they passed, before glancing up with a wry smile at her mentor. “You’re tired? Princess, you just woke up barely twenty minutes ago!”

“I am an invalid, I am allowed to be however tired I wish in however much amount I please,” Celestia said in a mock-haughty tone, turning her nose into the air. “And as Princess, I decree that it is bedtime. I can’t wait to get back to sleep...”

Twilight suddenly let out a surprised yelp. Celestia gave her a half-concerned, half-amused look, which was returned with a sheepish smile on the part of the unicorn. She glanced onto her back where Spike was slumped, snoozing soundly. “I guess he couldn’t wait either. The day finally caught up with him, I suppose,” Twilight chuckled affectionately.

“Has he been up all this time?” Celestia asked.

“Well, he was worried about you,” Twilight replied. “And... and about me too. He’s been really great today.”

Celestia smiled at the sleeping dragon, touched by his concern. “You’d best get him to bed.”

Twilight nodded, turning. “I’ll just go get him settled in my room, then I’ll be back up, okay?”

“Your room?” the alicorn frowned, confused. “In the castle?”

Twilight paused, unsure of how to reply. “Um, yes, I-?”

“Sorry, right, you’ve been here a whole day,” Celestia sighed, rubbing her temple with a hoof. “Head injury. Amnesia. It seems it really does get the best of us.”

“You forgot that you forgot?” Twilight giggled teasingly.

Celestia chuckled, rolling her eyes. “Alright, alright, make fun of the invalid. I can see I’ve taught you well. You go on and tuck Spike in. I’ll be inside.”

Her student nodded and turned, quickly trotting back out towards the castle proper. Celestia watched her go until she turned a corner and disappeared from sight. Smiling to herself, she pushed the doors to her chambers open and strode inside.

Unbidden, the doors clicked shut behind her, too quickly and surely to merely be the wind. Somepony had closed it magically.

She wasn’t alone.

“Who’s there?” Celestia called into the shadows. Her horn glowed in preparation for a spell, but it fizzled as her migraine surged forward, unforgiving. Wincing, she paused and forced her panic to subside, just as the moon emerged from behind a cloud, letting light spill into her chambers.

Her sister was resting on her bed. Celestia released a relieved breath, before the memories of her nightmares rose within her mind, taunting her, warning her. Her mouth was suddenly very dry, but she forced her relentless panic back down once more. She had no reason to fear her sister. No reason at all.

Luna’s dark expression said otherwise, however. She rose and stepped down off the bed, fixing Celestia with her expressionless gaze. Her teal eyes scanned the white alicorn’s form, narrowing at Celestia’s pristine appearance. With a starlit glow of magic, Luna swept her sister’s radiant illusion aside like mist, revealing the true extent of her injuries.

Even though it was a mere mirage, without Twilight’s illusion Celestia suddenly felt very, very exposed. She opened her mouth to speak, but was silenced by a shake of her sister’s head. “You have your orders,” Luna said in a low voice.

Celestia’s eyes widened fearfully. “Orders?”

From the shadows, a dozen uniformed ponies emerged. The princess of the sun stiffened at the sight of them, their expressions solemn, the tools of their trade ready, and their purpose clear.

Like a wave crashing down on the rocks of the pier, the doctors descended upon Celestia.

The startled alicorn had to suppress a very inelegant squawk as she was surrounded on all fronts by the tapping, prodding, investigating ponyel. “Luna, what is –” She flinched as the cold head of a stethoscope was pressed against her. “What is all –” She winced as three doctors prodded her burnt side experimentally. “Did you gather the entire medical staff to –” Her head was jerked to the side as one of the doctors snatched an ear for examination. “I just got back from a hospital, why –” She paused, disturbed slightly as a flash of magic briefly darkened her body but illuminated her skeleton. “Luna, isn’t Court still –” She saw the thermometer float in front of her, and she gave the doctor before her a flat look. “My temperature? Really? I have a head injury, not a virus.”

Luna spoke for the doctor. “Celestia, I have ordered them to give you a thorough check-up, and that includes taking your temperature. Now, we can do it the easy way...” Luna’s gaze moved pointedly onto her sister’s flank. “Or we can do this the hard way.”

Faced with those options, Celestia instantly snatched the thermometer into her mouth and fixed her sister with an indignant glower. Luna paid it no mind, instead turning to the head of the medical team, an aged, grey-maned stallion. “Doctor Ramheart?” the moon princess asked. “Your diagnosis?”

The old Earth pony rifled through the notes the medical team had made before, nodding. “It seems her little excursion hasn’t had a negative effect on her. She simply needs bed rest and somepony to monitor her.”

“And her burn?”

Ramheart cleared his throat loudly, and one of the medical unicorns levitated over an opaque glass jar. “This salve should quicken healing and prevent a potential scar. Simply work it into the skin by hoof or, preferably, with a bit of magic.”

Luna nodded. “Excellent, thank you for taking the time to do this,” she said appreciatively, picking up the jar of salve with her own magic. “You are dismissed, go get some sleep.”

The ponies nodded and filed out of the room, save for old Ramheart. “She still needs to be monitored,” he reminded Luna.

She nodded. “I have somepony in mind. If anything comes up I’ll seek your counsel.” The aged doctor grumbled in acquiescence and followed his staff out.

With a push of magic the door clicked softly shut, and Luna turned to face her sister. The glass jar of burn salve floated beside her. “On the bed, sister. Let me see that burn.”

Celestia scowled slightly. The doctors had done nothing but make her headache worse, but rather than kick up a foalish fuss she simply trotted obediently to the bed and lied down on her relatively good side. “That was a mean prank, Luna.”

“I disagree,” her sister replied flatly, drawing some of the salve out of the jar. It was a pale beige goop that strangely seemed to melt into the aura of Luna’s levitation spell, becoming a dark grey cloud that the younger alicorn pressed against Celestia’s side. The sun princess jumped slightly, worsening her headache – the cloud was freezing, and left tingles like pins and needles wherever it passed.

“That’s cold!” Celestia protested.

“Hush,” Luna half-hissed.

It was petulant, she knew, but Celestia couldn’t help it. She was stressed, tired, her good mood had been ruined, and so she began to sulk. “That check-up was far too fast to come to any real diagnosis,” the princess grumbled, her migraine pulsing angrily. “As a prank, I suppose getting me to ‘take my medicine’ is all well and good, but what were you thinking when you got the staff involved?”

The salve jar landed forcefully on the side table with a solid thud as the moon princess’ hackles rose. “Well, maybe I was worried about you, have you considered that!?” Luna snapped, the dam holding back her emotions fracturing. “Did you consider that when you sauntered back in here like a cat full of cream? D-did you consider that maybe you weren’t the only one having a bad day!?”

The darker alicorn stood quickly from the bed. Celestia’s eyes were wide as she watched her sister storm a few paces away. “L-Luna?”

Her sister wheeled around and fixed her with a baleful gaze. Her eyes softened as she took in Celestia’s injuries, but hardened once again when she focused on her lost expression. “Sunset... what were you thinking, Celestia?” she said, her voice hoarse.

“I-I don’t know,” confessed the elder sister.

Luna groaned, shaking her head. “Oh don’t even –!”

“Genuinely, Luna, I don’t know!” Celestia insisted. “I can’t remember anything about today after you left for the court this morning! I just woke up in the hospital...” Celestia shut her eyes tightly, forcing back the rising emotions from the memory. ‘And I was in such a good mood too...’ she sighed, and fluttered her wings weakly. “I woke up like this, and I had no idea what happened. Twilight has assured me it’s not unusual to suffer amnesia like this.”

“Is that right? Well, if she read it in a book it might be reliable...” Luna said beneath her breath, releasing an annoyed huff.

Celestia took offense on her student’s behalf, but let it go, knowing it was her sister’s anger talking for her. “Luna? Luna, speak to me.”

“Sister, I...” Luna began haltingly, before sighing, frustrated. She began again, the anger gone from her tone. “I’m upset with Twilight, a little bit, for panicking and snatching you away before I could help.” She chuckled, resigned. “I think you’ve rubbed off on her in that respect, only Twilight seems to favour taking matters into her own hooves immediately, as opposed you and your... machinations.”

Celestia said nothing to that – if anypony had earned the right to speak about her so harshly, it was Luna.

“But I’ll admit, not all of my grievances with your student are entirely deserved,” Luna confessed. “I... I know I can’t use her as a scapegoat for my frustrations, it’s just...” A pained look flashed briefly across her face. “Celestia, when Twilight vanished with you, the guards burst in. You had been screaming in pain, after all, you gave both Twilight and I an awful scare.” Luna’s gaze was somewhere far away and troubled, sending a rush of guilt through Celestia’s heart as the younger sister continued. “The guards did their duty and followed orders, but I could see it in their eyes, there was a definite... suspicion. Especially since it was dusk, and night had fallen. And then some of the nobles got wind of the situation during Court as we were trying to locate where Twilight had disappeared to. There were... allegations.”

Celestia’s blood went cold. “Who?” she asked gravely, a thousand years of authority in the tone.

Luna fixed her sister with an equally solemn expression. “What would you do if I told you, sister? Make them change their opinions? Are you prepared to cross that line? It all begins with the best of intentions, believe me.” The midnight-blue alicorn shook her head. “It was the murmurs of frightened foals, nothing more. Nothing more.”

Celestia’s face remained grave for a moment longer, before a throb of her familiar headache forced her to let the matter drop. “At least tell me our ‘nephew’ Blueblood didn’t add to the fuss,” she sighed.

“Actually, he seemed to be on my side,” Luna said, earning a surprised look from her sister. “Well, the side of least resistance, I suppose,” she clarified, sighing. “Still, the ‘these matters are not befitting of a royal, shall we not simply have a late tea’ angle was better than the rest of them quietly implying that I-I was...”

“Come here,” Celestia said softly, leaning forward to nuzzle her sister comfortingly.

Luna jumped back from the contact, and Celestia felt a sliver of her heart break. “Y-you don’t get to ‘make it better’, sister, not tonight,” the midnight-blue mare said, fixing her sister with a watery glare. “I told you, I told you I could handle the sun for the day, but you just...” She flicked a wing in a deliberately haughty gesture. “Just batted me away like a foal. Just like old times.”

“L-Luna, I-I-”

“And then you made your wounds even worse, made Twilight panic and all the little ponies in the castle begin to fear the dawn would never arrive,” Luna pressed on, stomping her hoof. “O-once again, the night became something to fear, because. You. Wouldn’t. Listen!”

Celestia rose in a blur of white and wrapped her wings and forelegs around her sister in a tight, desperate embrace. “I’m sorry, Luna, I am so, so sorry!”

Luna batted her wings ineffectually against her sister, trying to pull away. “Liar!” she yelled, her composure crumbling. “Y-you don’t even remember what for!”

“It doesn’t matter,” the sun princess whispered. “You’re in pain, and it’s my fault. Please, please forgive me.”

The last vestiges of her emotional dam broke, and Luna burst into tears, sobbing into her sister’s coat. Celestia shed a few tears of remorse as well in sympathy as they held each other, sinking to the floor.

As upset as she was, Luna quickly got a hold of herself, wiping her tears away with a foreleg. “I... I’m sorry for shouting at you,” she said quietly. “It’s not... I should have insisted that I lower the sun. Y-you weren’t yourself...”

“That’s the second time I’ve heard that,” Celestia sighed, resting her head in her sister’s vibrant blue mane. “I’m beginning to dread hearing about it.”

“Who told you about this?” the moon princess asked. “Twilight?” Celestia nodded absently, murmuring in assent. Luna just chuckled, amused by something, before sighing mournfully into her sister’s coat. “Everypony... everypony thought I had become N-Nightmare Moon again... maybe it’s too soon to hope they would have forgotten. Sometimes I wonder if you’re the only one who wholeheartedly trusts me, but tonight you...”

“I trust you Luna, never doubt that,” Celestia swore, firm yet comforting. “Please, let me make this up to you. I acted like a foal today, I wasn’t myself and I cannot begin to express the remorse I feel for hurting you.” ‘For suspecting you, my darling sister,’ her mind whispered. ‘For being afraid of you when all you ever wanted was to be loved.’ “Whatever it is you need or desire, tell me and I will make it so.”

“Do you mean that?” Luna asked quietly.

“Yes,” the sun princess replied, resolute. “I can’t make it better tonight, but I can make it right.”

The sisters were silent for a moment longer, remaining in their tight embrace. Finally, the younger spoke. “Give me the sun.”

Celestia had expected this – what else could her sister possibly ask of her, after all? Regardless, she still stiffened involuntarily at the request. “Alright,” she nodded carefully. “What will you do with it?”

“The same as you do,” Luna replied. “Raise it in the morn, set it in the eve. I would do so publicly, every day in Canterlot’s central square, so that all might see me usher in both dawn and dusk, so our ponies might see the night as sister of the day, just as fair, just as faithful.”

“And how long will you continue to guide it? Indefinitely?”

Luna balked. “Oh, no, I couldn’t, I...”

“How long, Luna?” Celestia pressed the question softly. “How long do you need?”

Luna’s face was hesitant, as if she was considering rescinding her request. “I suppose until you’re finished your convalescence? Perhaps a bit longer?”

“I see...” Celestia said in a measured voice. “How about until the solstice?”

Luna pulled away from her sister to give her a surprised look. “That long? The Winter Moon Celebration is still months off; are you sure?”

Celestia smiled. “I was actually talking about the Summer Sun Celebration.”

The younger alicorn shot straight up to her feet in shock, staring wide-eyed at Celestia. “No, I can’t! Not for that long, I physically can’t!” she said in a panicked voice, shaking her head rapidly. “The nights are getting longer now, so the sun’s burden will lighten as time goes on, b-but I can’t, I’m not strong enough to...” She paused, and sighed despondently. “Besides, that’s your day, not mine.”

“You deserve more days,” Celestia insisted. “And nights, for that matter.”

“No,” Luna said firmly. “Until the Winter Solstice I’ll guide the sun, and no longer. I’m sorry, but I just can’t do it for any longer, it wouldn’t be right even if I could...” She caught herself and sighed again, this time frustrated, giving her sister a weak glare. “And now I’m apologising, when nothing is my fault. Did you intend this?”

Celestia’s face fell, sadness welling up inside her from her sister’s suspicions. “Sister, we can either guess and second guess each other until we both spiral into madness, or we can trust one another. That’s our fate,” she said softly.

“Is that a yes or no?” Luna asked half-heartedly.

“It’s an I love you,” Celestia replied, bringing a hoof to her sister’s cheek.

Luna bit her lip and screwed her eyelids tightly shut. “Okay...” she said, her voice small. “Okay. I love you too, sister.” She drew a sharp breath and opened her eyes, locking her gaze with her sister’s. “You need to rest. I’ll be back here for sunrise in a few hours, alright?”

“Alright,” Celestia nodded. “Good night, Luna, I’ll see you in the morning.” She nudged her sister and smiled. “Your morning.”

Sharing her a small smile of her own, Luna made her way towards the door. “Sleep well, Celestia.”

As the door shut behind the midnight-blue alicorn, the sun princess let out a long, weary sigh. Her nightmare fears and her worthless paranoia told her this was a mistake, that this was where Luna’s betrayal began, this moment of weakness was the sowing of the seeds... and Celestia did her best to ignore it. Trust or madness, those words weren’t solely for Luna’s benefit. “Sleep well?” she asked the empty room. “I hope to, Luna, I do...”

~{C}~

Having quickly put Spike to bed, Twilight made her way back to Celestia’s tower with a brisk trot.

‘Oh, who am I kidding, it’s a canter,’ the lavender mare sighed internally. She rushed out a familiar archway and found herself in the cool night air once more, traversing the marble and gold bridge the chariot had left them on earlier.

Her hoofsteps slowed when she saw a familiar face emerge from the tower doors. Princess Luna’s expression betrayed a note of surprise upon seeing the unicorn, but it was quickly schooled into a mask of solemn authority.

“Twilight Sparkle,” she said, approaching her.

Twilight shrank under her gaze; beyond their first technical ‘meeting’, she had never known Luna to be so intimidating. “Princess, I-”

“Celestia needs somepony to monitor her and make sure she doesn’t use magic,” Luna stated, interrupting the unicorn. “Now, obviously, it’s been a long time since she’s been unwell and if she’s going to act anything like she did in the past then I wouldn’t wish that nightmare onto Discord, let alone a member of staff. Fortunately, you’ve already nominated yourself.”

“Huh?” Twilight cocked her head, confused. She got the distinct impression she was being punished, but with something she was more than willing to do regardless. At first glance it was redundant but, of course, Luna was Celestia’s sister in more than just blood. There was gravity to her words that implied something bigger at play, yet close to heart.

“Twilight. You’re not the only pony who cares about Celestia,” Luna said evenly, walking past the unicorn. Twilight sensed it wasn’t a change of subject. “I appreciate you acting so quickly to help her, but don’t...” The moon princess swallowed a lump in her throat. “Don’t steal her from me,” she said in a low whisper. “You, at least, have your friends in Ponyville. She is all I have.”

At that, Twilight quickly turned, full of concern for the midnight-blue alicorn. “Princess-?” she began, but stopped when she only saw an empty bridge.

Luna had teleported away, vanishing into the night and depriving Twilight of the chance to help the princess. The irony was lost to the unicorn, so she pushed her concerns away to deal with in the morning and chose instead to trot into the tower where the alicorn she knew she could help waited.

~{C}~

As Twilight pushed the doors to Celestia’s chamber open, she saw the princess sitting before the window of the balcony. Her burnt side was facing away from the unicorn and without the blemish she appeared to glow under the moonlight. The unicorn’s voice hitched in her throat, and the alicorn’s head turned quickly at the noise, relaxing once she saw who it was.

“Oh, Twilight, you’re back,” she said, moving towards her. The glow faded as she stepped out of the light, but Twilight didn’t care. She had noticed something that made her gut wrench.

“Princess, were you crying?” Sure enough, damp streaks running down the white pelt of her face shone in the dim light.

“Hmm? Oh! I... yes.” Celestia bit her lip almost bashfully, as if she had been caught preparing a prank. “A little bit, yes. The day is just... it’s catching up on me. I just...” She paused, unable to quite find the right words. “It’s strange. I don’t know. It’s strange to hear from you and Luna what happened today, it’s strange to see both of you hurt, and I can’t find the one responsible because she is me. It’s strange. A-and I can’t even get undressed, since my magic hurts to use.” Her hoof tapped at the torc encircling her neck, the rest of her regalia piled up on the bedside table. Twilight noticed that without the gilt shoes, Celestia’s hoof was a pure, stark white. She knew that already, but it was such a rare sight it caught her off-guard every time.

“Let me get that for you,” Twilight offered. Celestia smiled weakly and trotted over to the bed, resting on it. After a moment of deliberation, Twilight followed. Silently, she reached out with her magic and unhooked the torc, floating it to rest nearby. “Do you need anything before you go to sleep, Princess?”

Celestia settled into her bed, her head sinking into her lush pillows. “I...”

Twilight leaned forward to hear her next words, but they never came. Celestia seemed lost.

“I’m letting Luna handle both day and night until the solstice,” the alicorn said suddenly. “To make it up to her for... everything.”

Twilight blinked, surprised. “Wow, that’s... that’s big.”

“Yes...” Celestia agreed, her voice still lost. “I hope it’s enough.”

There was another uncertain silence, which was once again broken suddenly by the princess’ anxious voice. “Twilight, stay a little longer, please...” she said, placing a hoof on her student’s. “I don’t want to wake up and be afraid for you again...”

“You were afraid for me?” Twilight asked, touched. “Silly... you were the one with the injuries...”

Celestia smiled weakly. “Which is why I was worried. Can you imagine what the same thing would have done to anypony else?”

Twilight’s eyes became haunted. “Yes...”

Celestia jolted up. “Oh heavens, don’t tell me that-!”

“Nopony else was hurt, Princess, really,” the unicorn quickly reassured her. Celestia visibly sagged with relief, sinking back into her pillow as Twilight tried to find the words to explain. “It’s just...” The unicorn paused, and sighed with a chuckle. “I’ll show you in the morning,” Twilight promised. “But long story short, you need a new magical science laboratory.”

“I’ll name it after you,” Celestia said, unperturbed. “Just please stay here.”

Nodding silently, Twilight knelt down to rest beside her. For the longest time they simply shared each other’s gaze, violet eyes locked with magenta in a quiet reassurance of each other’s presence that they both sorely needed.

After an indiscernible amount of time passed, Celestia seemed ready to speak. “When I woke up, I believed some very foalish things...” she confessed, her expression troubled. “But when you’re hurt and frightened and confused, it becomes less and less foalish and more and more frightening the more you dwell on it. I didn’t know how I got hurt. I thought the castle had been attacked, and I was afraid... because you were supposed to be visiting. I couldn’t bear the thought that you were...” She suddenly cut herself off, breaking their shared gaze. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be dropping this on you...” she whispered in apology.

Twilight’s heart stirred, refusing to be silenced. She felt like she was running on embers. If she slowed down to think she would be burned horribly, so... so instead, she took a risk. She channelled Pinkie, and Applejack, and Rarity, and she danced upon the embers. She let her long-abandoned feelings for her mentor dance, if only for a moment.

“I’m here for you, Celestia.” Twilight felt a strange thrill speaking directly to the princess without titles. But this moment was too open, too vulnerable, too intimate to let anything remind either mare of the distance in caste between them.

“Thank you...” Celestia murmured, looking back into Twilight’s eyes. “Can you please stay a little longer? Until the morning?” The unicorn’s heart danced triumphantly. “I’m afraid I’ll wake up disorientated again,” Celestia admitted, fretting the sheets with a bare white hoof. “I don’t want to... to feel fear like that if I can help it. That isn’t selfish to ask of you, is it?”

“No, of course not,” Twilight replied honestly. “Why would it be?”

“Because of Spike,” the princess said. “He shouldn’t have to wake up alone because of me.”

Twilight paused. Truthfully, she hadn’t been expecting a legitimate argument against what she saw as a rhetorical question. “Oh... well... well, don’t worry. You’ll wake up at dawn anyway, won’t you?” Celestia nodded, and Twilight grinned. “Then there’s no problem! I’ll be back before he’s even close to waking up. And even if he does wake up, he knows the castle, so he’ll be fine.” Her eyes softened. “Right now, you need me.”

Celestia considered this, and chuckled ruefully. “A baby dragon can be better trusted to wake unsupervised than an ageless alicorn. Heavens, I feel useless.”

“Don’t...” Twilight said sadly, stroking her dawn-hued mane in an attempt to comfort her.

Somehow, it seemed to work. The princess smiled as her eyelids grew heavy as she began to fall into sleep’s embrace. “This is nice...” she murmured. “Thank you for staying...”

A few replies flashed through Twilight’s mind. ‘You’re welcome’. ‘Always’. ‘I love you’.

What she settled on surprised her. “How long has it been since somepony did this for you?”

Celestia’s ear flicked, at first the only sign that she registered the question, before her lips parted. “An eternity...” she breathed, and faded asleep.

Twilight remained stock still, for fear moving might break some sort of spell. She watched Celestia sleep for several long moments, hypnotised by her mane that still gently billowed from intangible solar winds.

‘You can do this. It’s just like a sleepover,’ Twilight told herself. ‘Applejack and Rarity shared a bed when we had a sleepover, right? This is the same thing.’ Momentarily satisfied with her personal white lie, she lifted the duvet over herself and Celestia, covering them both. She turned and put her back to Celestia before going to sleep – she couldn’t maintain any illusions about her feelings beyond her pithy rationalization, not when looking at the sleeping face of her mentor.

It was a large bed, but Twilight knew the only place on it she could sleep was at Celestia’s side. Her heart still danced, and she prayed she wouldn’t stumble. She almost didn’t survive last time.

~{C}~

Though her eyes did not open, Celestia was awoken by Twilight’s warm weight slightly pressing into her. She remained silent; both of body and mind, drifting in the haze between dream and reality as she idly felt her student settle down for the night.

She listened to the rise and fall of the unicorn’s breath, building into a peaceful pattern of deep sleep. She smiled as she smelled an almost heady must laced with something... lavender and jasmine, no doubt Twilight’s soap.

As she slipped into a peaceful slumber, Celestia curled a little closer to her beloved student. It felt right.

~{C}~

Composure, Chapter 2, end

Chapter 3 - Covenant

Chapter 3 - Covenant

Composure

by Varanus

A MLP:FiM fanfiction.

~{C}~

Chapter 3 - Covenant

~{C}~

“The night looks wonderful, Luna,” Celestia said with a smile, gazing in wonder at the depth and brilliance of the night sky her sister had so lovingly brought forth. It was unlike any she had seen before, ethereal and magnificent, impossible and wondrous.

And yet... familiar? Celestia paused, reeling in an unsettling sense of déjà-vu.

“Do you really mean that, Celestia?” Luna asked quietly, interrupting the elder alicorn’s moment of confusion. “Ever since we reunited, all those years ago, I was working towards this, the perfect night.”

Celestia dismissed the confusion and smiled at her sister. “Well, I believe you’ve more than accomplished it, sister,” the sun princess assured her younger sibling. “Why, the sky is simply mesmerizing tonight; I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Luna gave a small smile at the praise. “D-do you think the ponies will like it?”

“Luna, they will love it,” Celestia assured her sister, lowering her head to nuzzle the shy princess. “They will absolutely adore this night, I know it.”

Luna smiled. “I’m so glad. But, Celestia, you haven’t seen the best part. There’s a surprise in that sky, just for you. Can you see it?”

“A surprise?” the sun princess asked, excited.

“Yes, it’s to thank you, and to show you how much I love you.” The darker alicorn beckoned with her hoof. “It’s at the centre of the sky, directly up.”

Celestia craned her head up, searching the heavens for the surprise Luna promised. Her entire field of vision was filled with the rolling eternity of the constellations, and she soon lost herself amidst their splendour. “Luna...” she murmured, tears building in her eyes from the sheer beauty. “Luna, I -”

The bolt of lightning cut through her once more, but the pain was numb, distant. But her body felt like lead, and she fell regardless. “This isn’t real... it can’t be...” she protested weakly as she lay on the ground, staring wide-eyed up at her sister.

“Is this really how you see me?” Luna asked in turn, her coat turned pitch-black, her mane surging with cold stars. They brushed against Celestia’s coat like frozen branding irons, drawing her up into the air.

“It’s not... Luna, I trust you,” Celestia swore desperately. The stars were like a thousand pinpricks, like thorns pressing hard against her skin.

Her words fell on deaf ears as her sister stared, uncaring, down on her. “A thousand years,” she whispered, “and you still can’t see me as anything other than a monster.”

Celestia closed her eyes before desperate tears could fill them. “I gave you the sun,” she whispered. “Wasn’t that enough?”

“No, not enough,” Luna replied, shaking her head with a sad smile on her face. “It’ll never be enough for you.”

Celestia’s eyes shot open in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Luna only continued to smile pityingly as the star-filled mane closed around her.

The starry mane squeezed – but Celestia didn’t scream.

She surrendered.

~{C}~

In the chambers of the night princess, Luna paced distractedly, her bed empty and unkempt. Occasionally she would flop down on it and flick through a book, only to rise seconds later. Other times she would spend a few minutes quietly jotting at her desk, before her restlessness forced her to rise once more. She could feel the moon wane – dawn was merely a few hours away, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for it.

Almost idly, Luna reached for an abacus and ran through a calculation of the possible centrifugal force she’d need to compensate for when she raised the sun. Beads clattered loudly in the quiet room for a few moments, before the archaic device went still and was tossed on the bed. Luna gave a glance at the few sheets of parchment scattered around her desk and, with a touch of magic, sorted them into neat piles. Her desk tidy, she strode out of the room.

‘It’s pointless to calculate when I don’t have a frame of reference...’ Luna reasoned, the sound of her hooves echoing loudly in the quiet corridor. Several guards moved forward from the shadows to accompany her. Luna merely shook her head, dismissing them with a look, and they returned to their posts.

‘Celestia... where did yesterday’s anger come from?’ she mused as she roamed the castle halls aimlessly. She remembered her sister’s eyes. Unfocused, confused... Ramheart had explained that Celestia had merely been irrationally irritated due to her head wound, that her sharper than normal words weren’t really her own... but Luna couldn’t help but question his diagnosis. Celestia’s eyes... they had been, dare she think it, insulted, appalled by the idea that the sun might be raised by another.

‘Was that how she really feels? Was her concussion just preventing her from hiding her true feelings?’

“... No,” she said aloud, taking a stand against her own thoughts. “Celestia loves me. I won’t let a moment of irrationality poison the years of kindness and love we’ve shared.”

She felt a cool breeze on her skin, and looked to her right to see the sleeping land of Equestria laid out before her. She smiled, realising where she was – the Passage of Eastern Radiance. The eastern wall of the corridor was merely a long colonnade which opened out onto a wide balcony that followed the Passage’s length. She looked up, and her sharp eyes picked out the vivid fresco painted on the vaulted ceiling. Apparently it had been painted by a single Earth pony, which Luna found difficult to believe.

She turned to her left, to the western wall, and saw what gave the Passage its namesake – a mirror, or rather, series of tinted mirrors that ran the length of the open corridor. At dawn it would reflect the light of the sun back out onto Equestria in a beautiful display of shimmering colours.

At this moment, however, it reflected the light of the moon. Luna found the effect pleasing most mornings, as the muted colours of the reflected moonbeams had a certain elegance and subtlety about them.

But tonight, a cloud passed over the moon and all she could see in that mirror was an alicorn wrapped in shadows, trailing an ethereal mane. Without the moonlight, she seemed almost sinister – her mind playing tricks on her, she knew, but she also understood the fear others might hold in their hearts.

She touched her reflection lightly with her hoof, and thought back to her first Nightmare Night, before she had even adjusted to the social etiquette of the time. She learned that the children were quick to forgive, quick to play and show affection, but the adults? The longer the memory a pony possessed... ‘And who can remember more than Celestia?’ she thought, staring down into her own deep turquoise eyes ‘But... even if she is, deep down, doubtful of me...’ She shut her eyes tight, and when she reopened them, the clouds over the moon had passed, and she saw her true self looking back through the mirror. ‘Even if that is the case, I can forgive too.’

She smiled, and for the first time since the accident, she felt strong again. ‘Still, she’s been off for a while now,’ she mused, continuing her train of thoughts. ‘Something’s bothering her, and she doesn’t want me to know.’ Luna didn’t think it was anything world-changing, but it still ached for her to be unable to help her sister. ‘Perhaps now that Twilight is here...’

Speaking of twilight, the moon was inching towards the horizon. Soon, it would be time for her to herald the dawn. ‘My dawn,’ Luna reminded herself with a growing giddy smile. ‘My day.’

She stepped out onto her balcony and turned to face the horizon in the east. Just before she began to focus her power, however, she hesitated. ‘Celestia should be here...’

Her mind made up, she took to the air and flew in a curving arc around the castle, arriving at her sister’s tower in mere moments.

Landing on the balcony, she poked her head through the glass doors leading to Celestia’s room. She paused, however, as she saw the bed – and the two mares within. Twilight was pressed snugly against the white alicorn, blissfully unaware of the world, while Celestia herself had her hooves wrapped around the unicorn in a tight embrace.

Luna raised an eyebrow. Sure, she had teased Celestia about her affection for the unicorn, but... ‘Well now... oh, surely this can’t be what it looks like.’

The grin rising on her face was wiped away when Celestia jolted slightly in her sleep. Moving closer for a better look, Luna realised her sister’s expression was scrunched up in fear – she was having a nightmare, a terrible one if it was enough to so visibly trouble the sun princess, a mare whose composure never cracked, even in her sleep.

“Sister...” Luna whispered sadly, her horn glowing with a gentle blue aura. “Fear not, I am here.” She was the princess of the night, immortal master of the moon and the magic it governed. The subtle flow of dreams was a river in which she was the ferrymare, but Celestia owed her no copper bit.

“For you, the night should be something of peace,” she said, placing a soft kiss on Celestia’s bandaged brow. “Sleep easy.”

Stars glittered over Celestia’s head, and her expression slowly slipped into one of calm and serenity. Part of Luna wanted to peer into her sister’s subconscious and see the dream directly, but she squashed it down. She would not intrude on another pony’s privacy, especially not her sister’s.

She glanced at Twilight, noting that she was sleeping soundly. ‘At least somepony is having a good night...’ the night princess thought, but she couldn’t muster the resentment she had felt earlier. That was good, as Luna didn’t want to be angry with her, the first pony to truly reach out to her. But all it took was the memory of the accusing eyes...

Luna strode back out onto the balcony, contemplative. She stared into the descending moon for a few moments, before glancing back through the windows into Celestia’s room. Her sister wrapped around Twilight in her sleep, a gesture that danced the knife-edge between platonic and... suggestive of something more.

Safe in the shadows of the night, Luna allowed her jaw to clench momentarily before she turned away from the scene. She had relieved her sister of her nightmares, and that was all the comfort she could give. She didn’t have a place there. All she could do was watch the moon, waiting for her advent as the year’s new solar guide.

~{C}~

The starry mane squeezed – and became thorns, thick, black, dagger-like thorns surrounding Celestia, blotting out the sky. The stench of a predator hung in the air, invading Celestia’s nostrils. The hissing of invisible snakes echoed in her ears. She tried to struggle, but the vines were curled around her legs, their claws digging into her, dragging her further into the black briar patch.

Suddenly, she was pulled forcefully backwards. She gasped in pain as the thorns dug into her and left deep gashes in her skin, but it quickly faded as the plants’ grip broke, freeing her. She continued to be dragged backwards by the scruff of her neck, wincing as she nicked herself on the thorns here and there as she passed.

After an age of her forced retreat, the shadows of the briars eventually thinned, showing splotches of an orange sky strewn with pastel purple clouds. Then the briars stopped entirely, and Celestia found herself dragged out of a chasm and into a vast and lonely plain of verdant grasses. She was so startled by the sudden shift in scenery that she was caught unaware as her rescuing force dropped her unceremoniously on the ground. Wincing as sharp pain radiated from her many cuts, Celestia rose to her hooves, turning to see who, or what, had snatched her up.

She was startled to see it was a tall and stout Earth pony stallion. Both his coat and mane were green, his mane being several shades darker, and his eyes were serious as he stared down at her.

“Who are you?” she asked.

The stallion smiled, his serious gaze softening slightly. “Oh good, you forgot me. And here you thought you never would.” His voice was familiar, but Celestia couldn’t place it.

“What do you mean?” she asked. She stepped forward and winced, glancing down at her torn legs. “I’m hurt...” she said, her voice wavering slightly.

“Because you dived into the thorns. Don’t do that again,” he said seriously. “You’ll only get hurt.”

“I have to go back,” Celestia protested, the confusion she felt slipping away as a terrible sureness dawned on her. “I think... I think somepony is still in there.”

“Go back?” the stallion asked sceptically. Seeing Celestia’s determined expression, he sighed. “Alright. Do you have a horn seeped in mystic power, to sweep aside the thorns with a mere thought?”

Celestia looked up at her forehead, but no white horn adorned it. “I do not.”

The green stallion nodded solemnly. “Do you have strong wings to fly above the thicket and quickly find what it is that you look for?”

Celestia glanced at her back, but saw no great wings, only a coat of soft white hair marred with wet crimson stains. “I do not.”

The stallion was aghast. “Then at the very least, do you have hooves strong enough to crush the vines and clear a path?”

Celestia looked at his hooves – they were stout and mighty, as strong as the heart of the Earth. She then glanced at her own hooves, weak and dainty things. They looked like they might split should she so much as trod on a pebble, whereas the fern-green pony’s could have shattered a mountain with ease. “I... I do not.”

He lowered his head sadly. “Then I’m sorry. It’s beyond you to return to that briar patch safely.”

Celestia whinnied urgently, but she couldn’t deny the truth in his words. She paced the clearing, her mind racing. “Then...” She paused, and looked at the Earth pony with hope in her eyes. “Then... can you go in my stead?” she asked tentatively.

He shook his head sadly. “No, I can’t. I already got hurt pulling you out once.” He turned to show the side of his body to Celestia. The white mare gasped in horror at the sight – the stallion’s side was torn up with cuts and burns. Before her eyes, the gashes warped and joined into a single circular wound, and instead of dripping off, the blood began to radiate out from it.

It looked like a sun – like her cutie mark.

She would likely have stared at the horrible wound forever had the stallion not broken her gaze as he trotted away. “Wait!” she called after him. “Where are you going?”

He motioned his head towards the horizon, where the verdant plain met the pastel orange sky. “I can’t do anything else for you, Celestia. It’s time for me to go.”

“Don’t leave me alone here!”

The stallion gave her a bemused look. “You mean you can’t see them? They were the ones who told me you had fallen in the briar patch.”

“Who-?” Celestia began to ask, but was silenced as hundreds of ponies came into view. They were laughing and chattering and frolicking amongst one another, and their sudden appearance both confused and captivated Celestia.

An ice blue Earth pony cantered up to her and nuzzled her lovingly. “There you are!” she giggled.

“Where did you all come from?” Celestia asked.

“Where does anypony come from?” the blue mare replied brightly. “What we want to know is, where did you go?”

Celestia glanced back to the chasm filled with black thorns. “Into the briar patch.”

The ponies gasped in horror and rushed towards her, fussing over her with worried whispers. “Come, let’s get you cleaned up...” a sandy-brown, cyan-maned pony murmured, guiding Celestia away from the chasm.

“A moment,” Celestia said, resisting the urge to follow the kind ponies. She turned her head to speak with the green Earth stallion. “I still need to...”

But the stallion was gone. She could see him in the distance, galloping towards the horizon, a green speck almost invisible against the grasses of the plain. Celestia bowed her head, dejected - she hadn’t even gotten the chance to thank him.

‘I couldn’t even remember his name...’ she thought mournfully. The land shifted, and for a moment she felt as if she might topple over and fall into the briars again, but she stomped her strong hooves once and found her bearing. ‘But a name is just a name. I can remember the lessons they show me.’ She looked at her mane, her curling waterfall of hair, pink as the dawn sky. She thought of the green stallion, dragging her to safety despite the pain it caused him and, like drop of ink in a pool of water, a stripe of lush green ran through her hair beside the pink. Turning to the mares attending her, she smiled. “Alright, let us go then.”

The ponies brought her to a glade of clovers and sat her down. The blue mare sat behind her, humming a soothing song as she groomed Celestia’s pink mane with her tongue, carefully untangling burrs and thorns knotted in the flowing hair. The sandy mare circled her, her deep brown eyes taking stock of Celestia’s cuts and scrapes. Where she stepped, the clovers bloomed into tiny white and lilac flowers. Celestia was entranced by them, and so almost didn’t notice it when the sandy pony rested beside her and began to clean her wounds with her tongue.

Comforted by their soothing presence and the care they gave her, Celestia looked out on the plain. There were hundreds of ponies galloping across it. Some veered close to the glade of clovers, close enough to smile and wave. Others danced with one another, savouring the dying light of the sky. Still others raced each other, moving so fast Celestia knew she could never catch up. Each and every pony was subtly different from the next, but they all had two things in common.

First, wherever a pony walked, plants would spring into life. Flowers bloomed at the hooves of some as they galloped. Spindly saplings rose in the wake of others, forests in their infancy. Some left only trails of weeds, but even they bloomed into pretty flowers that stretched for the sun. Each pony treated the vegetation differently. Some ignored them, too busy chasing butterflies or each other. Others showed love and care to their plants, bringing them water and tending to them lovingly. Celestia could see several ponies in particular dance in excitement as a sapling grew to become a tall and proud apple tree. Some trampled flowers underhoof unthinkingly, others rolled around and played, still others simply grazed, content with their lot.

The second thing they had in common was, eventually, be it with a smile and a wave to Celestia or with a furrowed brow or with a determined expression, each and every last one of them would turn and gallop towards the horizon.

Leaving her behind.

“Where are they going?” Celestia asked, watching as several fillies raced each other into the distant light of the setting sun, never to return.

“Where does anypony go?” the blue mare replied. Daisies grew at her hooves, and she placed a crown of them atop Celestia’s now-groomed head.

“Are you going there too?” Celestia asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes, but you’ll be alright,” the sandy mare assured her, rising to her hooves. “Your cuts are clean, and they are healing well.” She turned and started to trot away, clovers blossoming at her hoofsteps. The blue Earth pony followed, giving Celestia one last happy wave before heading for the horizon beside the sandy mare, trailing daisies.

Celestia waved them goodbye, suppressing a sigh. Her mane, now clean of thorns and tangles, caught her attention. Looking at the dark turquoise stripe running through it, she resolved to remember the kindness of the mares who had cleaned her wounds and groomed her coat. Their memory in her heart, she allowed her mane to be dyed once more, this time by a streak of cyan. At a loss for what else to do after that resolution, she simply sat alone and watched the ponies roam the grassland. Occasionally a pony would wander up to her to share a flower or ask a question, but they quickly left once they were satisfied, galloping towards the horizon.

Feeling lonely, Celestia approached a group of dancing ponies, who looked overjoyed to see her. As one herd she and the ponies danced and laughed, and for a while, Celestia could forget the ache of her wounds. For a while, she forgot about the briar patch.

But the sky grew dark, and night fell. The ponies yawned and fell asleep, and the world was quiet. Celestia was left alone with her thoughts, so she roamed among the sleeping ponies searching for a companion. Before she realised, she found herself staring once more into the black briar patch that had caught her before. Her heart trembled to look at it, but she steeled herself and looked down at her hooves. They were strong, carved from marble and resolve.

She was as strong as the earth. She could crush the thorns, trample them underfoot.

“What are you doing?” asked a voice, startling her. She glanced in the direction of the voice, spotting its owner. It was a blue Pegasus mare with a fluffy mane, pastel yellow like a cloud at dawn.

“I’m going into the briar patch!” Celestia called in response. “My hooves are strong now, I can crush the thorns before they can cut me!”

“But it’s so dark! You’ll get lost!” protested the pegasus. She glided towards Celestia and nuzzled her, worried and needful. “What would we do if we lost you?”

“The ponies don’t need me. They’ll always have the horizon,” Celestia reassured the little pony.

“Can I help you then, at least?” the blue mare asked hesitantly.

Celestia considered it. She glanced at the green stripe flowing though her hair, and then at the mare’s blue wings. “Are your wings strong?”

“The strongest!” the pegasus said enthusiastically, though her words were undermined slightly as she shot her wings a quick, apprehensive glance.

Celestia only smiled. “Then can you fly above the black briar patch and see if you can spot what I’m looking for?”

The pegasus nodded eagerly and took off into the air. Celestia watched as she spent several minutes circling in the sky above the vast clutch of thorns, only to return with a dejected expression. “I thought I saw something,” she said as she landed beside Celestia. “But it was too dark. I’m sorry I couldn’t help.”

“You’ve been of great help,” Celestia assured the mare. She gave her a smile before growing solemn, looking out over the dark briars. “If it’s too dark to see anything from the outside, I won’t be able to see anything if I wander in. You were right, I’ll only get lost...”

Both mares were silent, until the pegasus suddenly perked up. “Oh, I have an idea!” she exclaimed. With a beat of her wings she soared into the sky and snatched a star from the lingering patch of night sky far above the plain.

“Strong wings indeed!” Celestia laughed, stomping her hooves in applause as the pegasus soared back down, the glimmering prize tightly gripped between her jaws. She landed beside Celestia and began to scrape in the dirt. Realising her intentions, Celestia dragged her hoof across the ground, digging a modest trench for her. The pegasus dropped the star, the bright little seed, into the trench, and together they covered it back up with soil.

The fruit of their labour quickly and literally became apparent as a sapling sprung from the ground. Cheering, the pegasus danced around it until it grew into a tall, slender tree adorned with tiny silver leaves. Four flowers sat nestled inside the cushion of those leaves, and they shone like the star that grew it. Celestia basked in the gentle light it radiated, and found it magnificent - soft as moonlight, but strong and clear.

“This is beautiful...” she murmured, running her white muzzle among the leaves of a low hanging branch. At her touch they clattered together with a musical sound, like a wind chime.

“Explorers of old have used the stars to navigate since the sky itself was born,” the pegasus explained. “Now, the pony in that briar patch will be able to find her way out!”

“I’m worried it seems too shallow...”

“Let’s find out!” the blue pegasus said, spreading her wings. She launched herself high in the air and landed on a wayward cloud, her eyes focused on the vast briar patch below. “Yes! It’s working! Come see for yourself!”

“I-!” Celestia began, before halting. She glanced at her back and gave her white wings an experimental flap. “Alright! I’m coming up then!” It only took a single beat of her wings for her to soar high above the plains and the thorny chasm, and after a brief glide to savour the sensation of flying, she joined the blue pegasus atop her fluffy perch. Smiling at her, Celestia then looked downwards and marvelled at the endless green land below. “Amazing... it goes on forever...” she gasped.

The blue mare nodded, and nestled into Celestia’s side. “Mmm hmm,” she murmured idly. “That briar patch seems small in comparison, doesn’t it?” Celestia had to agree – from her vantage point on the cloud, the thorny chasm seemed little more than a black smudge on the endless expanse of the plain, unable to compete in size or colour with the forests and gardens the sleeping ponies below had grown all across the landscape.

Still, the briar patch was the reason she had flown this high in the first place, so she turned her attention back to it, noting the light of the four star-trees. Combined, they shed enough light to illuminate all but the deepest, darkest tangle of dagger-like thorns. Celestia squinted hard, looking deep into that clutch of thorns – and something looked back. She jumped back, startled, as two turquoise, serpentine eyes glowered up at her from the shadows. “Something is in there!” she whispered urgently to the pegasus. “It can see us! It can find its way out of there now!”

The blue mare looked up at her sleepily. “Are you worried that this was all a big mistake?” she asked knowingly. Celestia bit her lip, and the pegasus nuzzled her comfortingly. “Don’t worry. It’s scary, but nopony deserves to be trapped in those briars. She’s jealous now, but once the stars guide her home, she’ll see how wonderful your garden is, and will love you again.”

“A-are you sure?”

The pegasus kissed her on the tip of her muzzle. “How could she not?” she asked lovingly. Celestia found herself smiling shyly as the pegasus yawned once again and settled down to rest on the cloud.

The darkness of the sky gave way to soft yellows and pinks as the sun rose quietly from the horizon. “It’s dawn... but you’ve been up all night...” Celestia mused, looking at the pegasus nestled in beside her. “Are you tired?”

“So tired...” the sleepy mare replied. “But I wanted to help you more than I wanted to sleep.”

Celestia smiled, a hint of sadness in her eyes. “Well, you can rest now. You’ve earned it.” The pegasus merely mumbled softly before drifting off into a deep and peaceful sleep. Carefully, Celestia rose and hopped off the cloud, and with one well-placed beat of her wings, sent the cloud drifting off towards the rising sun.

Celestia didn’t wave or call goodbye, but as she watched the mare float off into the horizon, her mane flared with a deep blue streak the same hue as the kindly pegasus’ coat.

So, winged and strong-hoofed, Celestia soared across the plains, watching with happiness as the ponies began to rise from their slumber and roam the land. She flew from cloud to cloud amongst pegasi who were trailed by fluffy dandelion seeds, before descending to earth. There, she trotted along rows of trees, greeting their caretakers, and ambled through patches of flowers, smiling at the foals playing within.

She roamed for what felt like years, but always remained within sight of the briar patch and the star-tree watching over it. Soon, the sun began to crawl low in the sky and Celestia began to make her way back towards the foreboding chasm.

On her way there, she was pleasantly surprised as a little unicorn, barely more than a filly, wandered up to her. Lavender was the colour of her coat, and lavender was the plant that bloomed in her wake.

“You know about these plants, don’t you?” the filly asked.

Celestia considered the question. “I must, considering anypony who knows more has left long ago. What are you curious about?”

The filly paused. Her horn glowed, and she placed her little hoof firmly to the ground. “See?” she said, lifting her hoof to reveal the flower underneath. It was a daisy – not a lavender blossom, but a happy white and yellow daisy.

“Can you show me again?” Celestia asked after a moment of surprised silence. The filly nodded eagerly and, horn glowing, she pressed her hoof into the earth several more times, each little hoofstep growing a different flower – a scraggly dandelion, a bright daffodil, a somewhat distressing buttercup, a delicate orchid, a fragrant clump of thyme and a vibrant red poppy.

“Why, you have a very special gift!” Celestia praised the unicorn. She leaned down to smell the poppy. Finding it pleasantly fragrant, she glanced over at the filly for permission. When she nodded, Celestia carefully plucked the poppy’s bloom from the stem and chewed it thoughtfully. It was smooth and velvety, quite palpable. Swallowing the flower, she smiled at the lavender filly. “It is wonderful... I’ve never met a pony with your raw ability. Would you like to walk with me a while?”

The unicorn broke out into a beaming smile and happily joined Celestia in her journey through the final stretch of the garden. Together they talked of many things – Celestia told her about the different plants she had seen and the dance circles she had joined in with, the filly hanging onto her every word. They discussed how Celestia had seen the ponies put their plants to use, which flowers had the nicest scents and appearances. Celestia warned her about buttercups and nightshade and other poisonous plants, which to avoid and which to be wary of.

“And the briars?” the lavender unicorn asked eventually, as the chasm loomed into their vision. Celestia looked at the unicorn appraisingly, and found she wasn’t a mere filly anymore – she was a grown mare, at the cusp of adulthood, looking out at the world with a pair of bright eyes and a confident bearing.

“The briars are something I had to deal with long ago,” Celestia said, feeling her long-closed wounds begin to ache. “There is somepony in those briars, furious and hurting. I want to help, but I can’t.” She sighed. “I have hooves strong enough to crush the vines once I get them underhoof, and wings strong enough to soar above them and find whoever is trapped, but I lack a horn to sweep aside the thorns and stop myself from being hurt and tangled inside.”

“I have a horn,” the unicorn said.

Celestia froze as the realisation washed over her. “Yes... you could sweep them aside easily...” she said slowly, before shaking her head. “But it’s not enough... you can’t go alone. We need more than a horn, we need –”

She didn’t even need to finish. “Strong hooves and swift wings, right?” the unicorn asked quickly, more of a reminder than anything else, before she turned and ran. For a horrible moment Celestia thought she was running towards the horizon, but her heart calmed when the mare simply began to wind her way through the groves and trees of the lush landscape.

Celestia hung back, observing the unicorn. Already, the little mare was speaking with an orange Earth pony underneath an apple tree. It didn’t take long for the strong-hoofed mare to smile and nod, following the purple pony in her quest.

Next, to Celestia’s surprise, was another unicorn – a prim and proper mare with a lush white coat, who was scrutinising several gemstones. However, a few words from Celestia’s little unicorn had the prim mare tossing the jewels aside and joining their crusade.

Next was a pink Earth pony, who found the group rather than the other way around. She introduced herself by leaping at the clever unicorn and chattering excitedly, pleading for an invite to whatever party was being planned.

Meanwhile, a cyan pegasus with a rainbow mane descended from a cloud to watch the commotion. Amused, she bantered with the two Earth ponies for a while and, hearing their troubles, joined without a second thought.

Last was a butter-yellow pegasus resting in a glade filled with butterflies. The colourful insects flew off as the group approached her, startling the timid girl, who shrank away from the clever unicorn as she tried to explain the situation. Saddened as the pegasus shook her head fearfully, the group turned and left. But Celestia, watching from afar, saw the conflicted look on the shy pegasus’ face, and was pleased to see her muster up her courage and flutter after the group before they got too far away.

Night had set around them, and it was only by the light of the star trees that they could see the twisted thorn patch, where... it was lurking. Celestia realised the group of six ponies were right at the edge of the foreboding briars, and she quickened her pace to catch up. But she was too far away – the ponies had begun without her.

The two pegasi flew high over the brambles and with the aid of the star-tree’s luminance spotted the figure lurking within. They called out a direction to the two unicorns, who turned their attention to the briars. Her clever unicorn’s horn glowed, and in response the thorny vines were uprooted and cast aside. The knowledge of plants Celestia had shared let her know precisely where to tug and precisely where to instruct the prim unicorn beside her to snip and cut at the thorns. The Earth ponies joined in, stomping on the briars that the lavender mare brushed aside, grinding them to dust and preventing them from ever growing again.

Soon, a path was clear – far sooner than Celestia expected. She hadn’t caught up to them yet! She raced full-gallop towards them, just as the deepest darkness of the briar patch swelled forward – a darkness with two wrath-filled turquoise eyes at its head. A monster emerged, inky black and studded with cruel thorns. Everything about it shrieked sharp and sinister, from the talons running up its legs to the misshapen, shredded wings that dripped with tar to a curving horn atop its head.

Celestia felt panic in her chest and bile in her throat. Part of her wanted to scream out to the ponies, to her clever unicorn, to run, to flee this terror. An even larger part of her wanted to leap between the ponies and the beast, to drive it back into the thorns where it could rot for the rest of eternity, unable to hurt anypony ever again.

But the smallest, most unsure sliver of her heart told her ‘Wait. Look at your little ponies’. And for some reason, she did.

They hadn’t moved an inch. They stood in a semi-circle mere paces from the monstrosity but hadn’t budged, though the shy pegasus clearly shrank in its presence. Celestia slowed in her mad dash, confused, until she stopped entirely, just outside the boundary of the new path. She watched as the monster slowly turned to look at each of the ponies, one by one, before finally looking up and locking eyes with Celestia.

It took a step forward, and the light of the stars above died. It took another step, and the star-trees were snuffed out, sinking the world into utter darkness. One final step echoed through the silence, and for a moment Celestia believed all was lost.

Then, she heard a soft sound, that of a light hoof pressing down into the earth firmly. Celestia knew it was her clever lavender unicorn, she could feel it in her heart.

A pinprick of light emerged from the darkness. It drew itself up, quickly growing into a wispy silver sapling. But it didn’t stop growing – before Celestia’s eyes, it became a tall, stout willow with wide, far-reaching branches that hung over the six mares and the monster like a canopy. Leaves began to unfurl, weighing down the boughs of the tree until a thick curtain of silvery-white leaves enveloped the ponies in its embrace.

In the sky, the stars began to emerge once more, and for the first time Celestia saw the moon rise in the sky over the plain. It hung in the air, a priceless jewel radiating ethereal light, to which the willow responded, radiating its own glow, bright and clear.

Celestia took a moment longer to drink in the sight, before stepping through the radiant curtain of leaves. She saw the six mares surrounding the nightmare, which stood defeated, silent and trembling. But by the light of the willow tree, the shadows sticking to the beast were banished, and everything became clear.

It was just a pony.

The dark coat was tar and ichor, staining a deep blue coat. It hung in clumps on her feathered wings.

The talons running up her legs were tangles of thin, evil briars, running up and entwining her body, claws digging in.

Even her horn was tangled, with one massive claw-like thorn eclipsing it atop her forehead and weighing heavily down upon her.

Just a pony.

She looked at Celestia with watery eyes. Cracked and wavering, her voice nevertheless was heard clearly by all under the willow tree. “Sister...”

“Luna...” Celestia’s stomach turned as that realisation set in. All along, all that the “monster” had ever been was a pony, her own sister, snared tight by the cruel thorns. But she had known that all along, hadn’t she?

‘When did I begin to fear you?’ she asked silently, not daring to break her sister’s gaze. ‘Or is it the thorns I fear, and you were just a mask to distance myself from them with? In many ways, you reflect me, and if the thorns could hurt you so...’

Her sister stumbled, her strength giving out. Celestia rushed forward to close the distance, but the six mares were faster. Her lavender unicorn cradled Luna in a magical cushion, while the white unicorn carefully snipped and unwound the briars studded into her mane and coat. The pink Earth pony and the shy yellow pegasus carefully began to pluck the thorns from her side, taking care not to worsen her injuries as they eased the evil little hooks out of her skin, while the orange Earth pony and the rainbow-maned pegasus stomped down on the thorns that were cast aside, crushing them over and over until not even splinters remained.

Slowly, cautiously, almost afraid of rejection, Celestia approached her sister. The darker alicorn shrank under her gaze, eyes wide and trembling, but she was surrounded by the ponies grooming her, so couldn’t flee even if she had the strength. Slow and careful still, Celestia lowered herself to the ground, resting beside her sister, uncaring of the black ichor now oozing onto her coat. She knew it could be cleaned, so wordlessly she began to groom her sister’s mane, just as was done for her so long ago.

They worked in silence, Luna trembling as thorns were plucked from her hair and skin, but never crying, never weeping. On the contrary, as Celestia, the clever unicorn and the five other mares slowly cleaned her wounds and coat of the black stain, Luna grew still and sure, her posture straightening and her ears beginning to perk up.

Soon, Luna gathered her strength and rose onto shaky legs. She was silent, at a loss for what to say. Words, however, weren’t necessary. Celestia rested on the grass to her left, the lavender unicorn at her right and the other five mares in a loose circle around her, silently assuring the darker alicorn that she wasn’t alone in the dark anymore, that she had a herd once more.

“What now?” Luna finally asked.

“Go explore,” Celestia said. “Meet with others. I’ll be here if you need me.”

Luna smiled and hugged Celestia. Then, with hesitant steps growing in confidence, she set out on her own into the garden.

For a while Celestia watched her sister roam, until her attention was caught by the ponies who had helped tend to her. They bowed respectfully before turning together and trotting off... towards the horizon. ‘Ah...’ Celestia noted with a pang of sadness. ‘It’s time already. And I had barely even gotten the chance to thank them properly...’ But everypony left eventually. Though a part of her was saddened, it warmed her heart to see them leave together, as friends.

The lavender unicorn rose to follow, but Celestia saw her pause, conflicted. The others stopped as well, looking back at her, curiosity and concern written across their faces. She looked at Celestia hesitantly. “I...”

“Go, my dear,” Celestia replied with a smile. She leaned over and kissed her on the forehead, just beside her horn. “I won’t hold you back.”

The unicorn’s features lit up with a smile as she hugged Celestia goodbye. She rose and galloped towards her friends, and together they set out on their journey. Celestia’s eyes never strayed from them as they galloped far away, leaving six trails of flowers in their wake that tapered into one, fading into the distance.

Celestia closed her eyes as a feeling of completeness washed over her. She felt her mane ripple and knew a lavender streak now ran through it. She felt a wash of magic settle on her like a crown and knew a proud white horn was atop her head. When she opened her eyes again, the horizon glimmered with the imminent dawn, a beacon to guide the six friends on their journey.

She noticed, now, that instead of a new highlight the remaining part of her mane that was pink had blended with the lavender to create a soft purple, though the tips still seemed pink in the light in comparison to the cooler colours running beside it. She studied it a while, curious as to its meaning. If it seemed pink still, was it that she only appeared to be the mare she once was? Was it that the briars had rubbed off on her, that she was now that much darker? Or... was it that she was now that much deeper? Darkness wasn’t something to fear, so long as it was deep – the brightest of gems hid in the deepest of caves, after all. In the end, Celestia found the darker purple appropriate – the pink-haired mare pulled from the briar patch so long ago wasn’t gone, only changed, matured.

So then, with lavender, cyan, turquoise and azure highlights in her hair, with strong hooves on her feet, with great white wings at her back and proud white horn atop her head, Celestia strode forth to survey her garden. For though she could not follow the ponies in their quest for the horizon, it didn’t mean she remained static. Just as the garden grew with each pony that passed through it, so too did her heart.

These fleeting interactions were what made her the mare she was – the caretaker of the plain, tending to the garden so the legacy of the ponies would still be seen even long after they had departed.

Even if she did sometimes glance towards the horizon and wonder...

“Celestia?” a voice called, freezing the white mare in her tracks.

The dawn broke over the horizon, and Celestia turned to face it disbelievingly. There, she saw the lavender unicorn, framed by the rising sun, return. Celestia’s mind was blank, unable to process anything besides this impossible sight, that somepony had returned. Celestia’s heart rose hopefully, but in the same instant her gut sank into a pit of trepidation. ‘Why has she returned? Has something happened?’

The lavender unicorn was trotting towards her, her head scanning the surroundings in search of something. She was taller now, her legs lithe and slender, her hooves small yet sure. Her coat gleamed in the morning sun, and behind her trailed not only mere flowers, but shrubs and trees of all kinds and brambles, yes, brambles that grew heavy with plump, juicy blackberries.

She was so beautiful. Celestia surprised herself with that thought, but she couldn’t deny it. She was so beautiful, and she had returned.

She strode slowly through the plain, trailing her forest behind, and smiled at Celestia. Celestia was still so stunned by the sight that she almost didn’t realise the unicorn wasn’t slowing to stop. The lavender mare instead walked on, brushing lightly against the feathers of Celestia’s extended wing. That hint of a touch brought her back to reality, and she turned quickly to walk with the unicorn. She couldn’t let this chance, this never before felt opportunity slip away, she couldn’t!

And yet, she had to know. “Why?” she asked the unicorn. “Why are you here? Why did you return? What about the horizon? Everypony goes!” ‘Please don’t say you stayed for me,’ was her silent plea. ‘Please don’t say you sacrificed the horizon for me. There’s a world out there, I know there is, please tell me you saw it! Please tell me I didn’t steal it!’

And though Celestia hadn’t voiced her fears, the unicorn’s expression showed she had heard them loud and clear. “But I did go, Celestia,” she assured her, and the garden’s keeper felt the vice loosen from around her heart. “I chased the horizon, and it lead me here. I’m looking for something, you see.” She hopped forward a step, and a multitude of shrubs began to grow behind her. She regarded them somewhat sadly before looking up at Celestia, her eyes lost. “What do you see when you look at me?”

“I see a beautiful unicorn with heart and talent like no other,” Celestia replied, her heart beating fast.

“Do you know what I see?” the lavender mare asked, looking back along her trail to the forest in their wake. “A pony with no flower of her own. I watched the other ponies, and I listened to your tales of ponies long passed, and I grew their flowers. But where’s mine?”

“But what about your magnificent willow?”

“That was your sister’s tree, not mine. All I did was remind her of it.”

Celestia found herself at a loss for how to reply, but as the unicorn continued to walk on, she found her heart longing to follow. She glanced over at her sister in the distance, who was happily roaming the gardens with a veritable herd of ponies around her. The briars were gone, her sister was safe... Celestia had neither reason nor desire not to join the lavender mare.

“Shall I walk with you?” she asked, quickening her pace to catch up. “I know these plains well. We might find rich soil where your flower could grow.”

The unicorn’s face lit up in a smile, and she jumped in step beside Celestia. “That’s just what I was hoping you’d say!” Celestia returned the smile, her heart fluttering as a new hope began to awaken inside her. Could this... could this finally be her chance to chase the horizon?

They set out together, side by side in search of good earth, but before long the unicorn sprinted a few paces ahead. Celestia picked up speed to follow, but when the unicorn shot her a teasing grin what started as a casual trot quickly became a full on gallop. They raced each other through the gardens, laughing like fillies all the while as they dashed ahead of one another, neither really trying to win. They darted between trees and leaped over shrubs and bushes, calling out apologies to any pony they startled in their race but never slowing down for an instant.

A dense thicket of trees and whitethorn bushes suddenly appeared before them, blocking their way. The unicorn faltered, alarmed by their sudden appearance, no doubt apprehensive of the thorns. Celestia only grinned – they were nothing compared to the black briars, in fact they seemed positively friendly and protective in contrast! Her horn lit as she reached out with her power, and the thorns graciously parted to allow them to pass. Together, she and the unicorn broke through the thicket –

And the endless plain opened up to them once more, taking the unicorn’s breath away. She quickly came to a stop, staring in wonder at the flat grasslands before her. “This is...”

“Unexplored ground...” Celestia finished for her by way of explanation. “That’s right, you’ve lived your entire life in the garden, haven’t you?”

She nodded. “When I went exploring with my friends, I saw bits and pieces of the plains, but nothing so vast! It goes on forever!”

Celestia grinned mischievously. “Let’s test that theory,” she said, right before galloping off, resuming the race. She laughed as the unicorn squawked indignantly at being left behind, and casually glanced back mid-run to see her pounding her legs against the springy grass in an effort to catch up. She wasn’t trailed by flowers or trees anymore – clearly, the mare was only focused on finding her own flower right now, not spreading the growth of others.

Celestia’s grin inched that much wider. It suited her just fine – it made things special, even. It was just the two of them and the open plain, no briars or chasms to hem them in and distract them anymore, no path of vegetation that others could follow and find them with. The wind caressed her mane with its cooling touch and carried the lavender mare’s laughter to her ears, and Celestia felt free.

And when she wasn’t looking... when neither of them really were, while they were savouring only the run through the plain and nothing else...

Something small blossomed between them.

Something so small that it almost went unnoticed. It was only the unicorn’s sudden cry of joy that stopped Celestia from running past it completely. She ground to a stop and turned to see her circling a spot in the earth excitedly, practically prancing with joy. “I-I did it!” she cried. “I found it! We found it! This is mine!”

“Oh?” Celestia trotted quickly over and leaned down beside where the mare was hopping about, quickly spotting the source of her joy - a tiny shoot with red leaves poking out of the thick carpet of grass.

Her unicorn finally settled down, resting beside Celestia. “What kind of plant do you think it’s going to be?” she asked, half-whispering.

“That’s up to you,” Celestia replied. She truthfully couldn’t tell. “Tend to it now, or it’ll wither.”

The unicorn nodded and closed her eyes. Her horn glowed, and the little red shoot responded, twitching and standing a little straighter. She cracked one eyelid open to sneak a peek at her progress, and giddily shut it once more, focusing her magic harder.

The little shoot began to grow, slowly but surely. Under the unicorn’s steady efforts and a few words of advice or guidance from Celestia, the shoot became a spindly sapling, which in turn grew into a slender tree adorned with red-leaves. It should have fascinated Celestia, but it didn’t. She couldn’t quite grasp the shape of the leaves nor the height of its branches nor the exact colour of its luscious fruit, growing plump and ripe. She couldn’t quite see the tree, but for a very simple reason. She was too occupied with watching the unicorn laugh and dance in joy, too busy smiling.

She was doing a lot of that lately – smiling. How could she not? Goodness, she felt so free!

“Yesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyes!” The unicorn scampered around the trunk of the tree, franticly studying it as if it might disappear in an instant. “Okay, so it’s clearly deciduous and flowering, it seems to bear fruit – fruit! Oh!” She turned to Celestia. “It’s grown fruit, do you see? How do we get it?” she asked, panting slightly from her exuberant display.

Celestia stood and smiled knowingly. “Like this!” she said suddenly, and in one swift movement she planted her forehooves in the ground, swung her body around and gave the trunk a sharp buck with her strong hind legs.

One single piece of fruit fell before the unicorn’s hooves, who blinked and snapped out of the slight surprise Celestia’s sudden action had left her in. She lay down on the grass and began to study the bright crimson fruit. Celestia lay down beside her, and the unicorn shifted in response, resting slightly against the white mare. “Tough outer husk...” she was muttering to herself, peering critically at her prize. “Is it ripe?”

“Only one way to find out,” Celestia reminded her.

She nodded and, with a flash of magic, neatly bisected the crimson fruit. Carefully, she prodded the pink flesh inside. “I’m not sure it’s fully ripe yet...” she said, her voice hesitant.

“Why not try it and see?” Celestia urged her.

The lavender mare looked longingly at the fruit, but pulled her gaze away. “You first,” she said seriously, staring Celestia directly in the eye. “It has to be you.”

The alicorn didn’t protest. It made sense, in that moment. The fruit was the culmination of their journey together, so she understood how significant this was for the both of them. Celestia needed to be sure that the fruit the tree bore was palatable... no, sweet! Succulent! Wholesome! She needed to be sure it was perfect, her clever unicorn deserved no less!

She needed to be sure...

Tough husk shucked, half of the fruit was levitated before her. She carefully bit down on it and chewed slowly, savouring the flavour.

It was... ambrosia. It had to be. What else could taste so perfect, such a subtle blend of a thousand flavours and emotions? What else could match the way it made her heart flutter and her breath hitch, or how it blended velvety sweetness and sharp tartness and echoes of bitterness? The flavour almost overwhelmed her, but she knew she would crave more before long. She couldn’t go back.

“Well? How is it?” the unicorn asked, her voice hopeful, yet almost pleading.

Celestia only smiled and nuzzled her tenderly. “Absolutely perfect, my love,” she murmured. “Absolutely perfect.”

The mare smiled and nuzzled Celestia below her jaw, resting her lavender head softly on her neck. “Good...” she whispered, and for a while, they simply sat in silence, relishing the tingles and sensations they felt merely by being in contact with one another.

So, resting below the swaying red leaves, they fed each other sliced fruit and watched the sunset, together.

~{C}~

Composure, chapter 3, end.

Chapter 4 - Convalescence

Due to the formatting present in this chapter, the chapter 'as intended' is here.

Composure

by Varanus

A MLP:FiM fanfiction.

~{C}~

Chapter 4 - Convalescence

~{C}~

As the moon approached the horizon, the land of Equestria waited in quiet anticipation for the dawn. Feeling the tug of the sun, Celestia woke.

Her first impulse was to rise and begin her morning ritual, but the sleepy haze that followed waking pressed down on her mind heavier than normal. Her muscles were sore and tired, and there was a warm little bundle pressing against her. She reflexively curled into it, relishing the snug warmth of her bed for a few moments more. The sun’s call was distant; the dawn could wait a little longer.

Slowly, her mind began to connect the images flashing through her memory. Her first thoughts were of the grassy plain, of swaying red branches, and she struggled to hold onto them. Rarely had she ever experienced so vivid a dream, and she knew every last image was significant.

She remembered... she had dreamed of Twilight.

She had... Celestia’s heart thudded hard against her ribs as her mind finally snapped to attention. ‘Oh heavens... did I really say...?’

Gradually, she became aware that the warmth she had curled herself around was another body. She remained still, perfectly still, as she carefully opened one eye and looked down into the purple mane of the pony sharing her bed.

“Twilight?” she murmured, confused. The unicorn made no response, still sound asleep.

Celestia made no movement to disturb Twilight’s slumber. None whatsoever. Instead, she cast her mind back, trying to recall what had happened the previous day. Nothing came to mind – her memory was a blank void, only serving to stoke her slowly rising panic.

Whatever had occurred the previous day, whatever reason there was for Twilight to be sleeping in her embrace, Celestia couldn’t remember.

However, she remembered the dream as clear as day. She remembered running free with that radiant unicorn, she remembered the luscious fruit springing from the red tree, the taste of...

Celestia looked back over at the sleeping mare beside her, still entwined between her forelegs. Her heart, sore in her chest, posed a question she couldn’t rebel against, for even denying it would give away the truth.

‘Have I... fallen for her?’

Instantly, she regretted the thought.

‘Stupid.’ It was a stupid thought, she told herself over and over, trying to take it back. ‘Stupid, stupid, stupid. It can’t be true!’

She jolted in the bed, her instincts urging her to get away, but she quashed them down, closing her eyes and focusing on her breathing. Habit kicked in, and she quickly entered a state of meditative peace, mind and body relaxing.

‘Alright, be logical about this...’ she told herself. ‘Dreams can mean many things. I didn’t say ‘I love you’, I said ‘my love’. That’s not necessarily romantic, right? I have heard parents use it to address their children, after all.’ Celestia didn’t particularly like the association, but was willing to accept it for the time being.

‘And the fruit. Fruit from a tree we both searched for. Clearly, that was referring to the research Twilight has been doing, that we both have been working on. Clearly.’ Yes, that seemed satisfying.

‘Of course, the fruit could also have been referring to...’ A lump rose in her throat and her gut tightened as she again fought the urge to flee. ‘Don’t panic!’ she reminded herself. ‘Be rational! Investigate!’

She breathed deeply through her nose, inhaling the scents of the room. She noted her own scent mingling with Twilight’s, as well as a fading aroma of lavender and a hint of sweat. However, there no scents implying “exertion” lingering in the air, no trace of alcohol or food to imply anything special had occurred, and certainly no alluring fruit. Celestia released the breath with a feeling of relief – as far as she could tell, she and her protégé had merely shared a bed, nothing else.

She suddenly felt foalish for imagining otherwise, and that was quickly compounded by a wave of shame for reacting so badly.

She knew Twilight thought the world of her, that even after so long she still put so much weight in her mentor’s opinion. If she had been awake to see Celestia’s reaction, she would have been devastated. She would have thought Celestia found the idea of them together revolting, and from that might have then begun to think that everypony would find the idea of being with her revolting. Celestia knew Twilight like a second shadow – she was smart and sharp and perceptive, but if she got an idea inside her head, it’d run round and round and round until it ran circles around her and everypony else unfortunate enough to be in her vicinity, driving everything into the muck.

She had almost hurt her dear unicorn deeply, and for what reason? Because she was afraid she might be in love?

‘Why are you panicking?’ she asked herself, tightening her still unbroken hold on the unicorn. In her sleep, Twilight sighed in response, and Celestia found a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. ‘This is not so terrible.’

Softly, she placed a kiss on the top of Twilight’s head. ‘I’m sorry.’

Dawn was coming soon – she could feel it. Carefully, so as not to wake Twilight, Celestia wriggled out from underneath the duvet. A jolt of pain in her side alarmed her, so she abandoned subtlety and snatched the covers in her mouth, casting them off the bed with one yank.

She looked over at her side and saw the wicked burn. Suddenly, the events of the previous evening all came flooding back to her – waking up in the hospital, panicking, finding Twilight, returning to the castle, her argument and offer to Luna...

Twilight, calling her by name and promising not to leave her...

And, unfortunately, the headache. She groaned, but it was much weaker now that she had gotten some rest.

She glanced out the balcony window to check the skyline and stiffened in shock as she spotted a dark figure waiting just beyond the glass doors. Luna was waiting there watching the horizon. Her mane glowed softly in magical starlight and her body left a stark silhouette against the brightening sky of near dawn, making her already dark coat appear near-black in contrast.

For an instant, Celestia had seen – but she ignored that jolt of irrational trepidation, and softly walked out onto the balcony to join her sister. “Hello, Luna,” she said in a hushed voice, drawing close to the midnight-blue alicorn and nuzzling her cheek.

Luna leaned slightly into the touch, but otherwise didn’t react. “Good morning, sister,” she replied simply.

“Is it?” Celestia asked warmly. “I suppose that’s up to you.”

That got Luna’s attention. “You remembered...”

Celestia nodded. "Dawn is approaching. Are you ready?"

"I believe so. I have been reaching out to the sun for a little while now, trying to familiarize myself with it. Do you... have any advice for me?"

"For now, simply use a light touch and only give the sun a gentle push to maintain its momentum along the arc of the sky,” Celestia provided. “The sun wants to illuminate the world, so for this morning at least simply encourage it. You may have to adjust its orbit around noon, but it’s better to take it slow and learn how it moves before taking hold of it directly."

"Just ‘let’ it spin around the planet?" Luna asked somewhat sceptically.

"For now," Celestia replied reassuringly. "The sun is very different from the moon. The moon needs to be carefully and subtly guided, since it is closer to Equestria and has a direct affect on the land –”

"Through tides, gravitational stability and the psychological effect it has on ponies and other creatures," the night princess finished. She smiled knowingly at her sister, before turning her mind to her moon's solar counterpart. "So then, the sun's greater distance from the planet means it need not be so strictly controlled?"

"That is what I've found, yes," Celestia said. "Light, heat and magic are the most direct effects Equestria feels, but there are so many factors affecting them in their journey here that even if the orbit is a little off, nopony will notice anything beyond a slight change in temperature."

"I see... simply cradle the sun..." Luna muttered half to herself. She straightened slightly, and looked to the horizon where the moon sat obediently, waiting to be put to sleep. "It's time."

Celestia could feel the sun call to her from far away. Her headache swelled slightly, discouraging her from answering its song. "Yes, it is."

Luna strode forward, her horn glowing with magic. Her wings extended, she bent her knees and bowed her head in a courteous gesture. The moon responded in kind, slipping smoothly down the horizon. The midnight-blue alicorn held her prone position for a moment longer, before crouching lower an inch and springing into the air. Celestia watched in approval as Luna beat her wings once, propelling herself higher as her forehooves reached out to the sky. Her horn surged with light and suddenly the night princess' form was framed by the light of the dawn as the sun answered her call.

Celestia watched the new dawn with mixed feelings: wonderment and pride in her sister's ability were foremost in her heart, but there was a vein of apprehension as well. Since the beginning of her duties, the sun was hers alone to guide. Up until this point, Celestia hadn't quite realised the full extent of what she had just relinquished for her sister's sake.

Luna turned in mid-air to look down at her sister, hesitantly gauging her reaction. Celestia smiled, partly proud, partly understanding. 'It seems neither of us fully grasped the significance of this moment until now. If she can guide the sun just as I can guide the moon... then our dualism is rendered somewhat moot, isn't it?’

The night princess’ hooves clattered on the stone balcony as she descended back down beside Celestia. “I... I did it,” Luna said breathlessly, staring into the pale dawn sky. “It listened to me...”

“Well done,” Celestia praised. “How do you feel?”

“I... a bit drained,” she admitted, tearing her eyes from the rising sun to look at her sister. “The sun really is quite different, even if the fundamentals are the same.”

She was silent for a moment, before looking at Celestia with an unwavering gaze. “This changes matters, doesn’t it? Last night, I was only concerned with proving myself to our subjects, but now...”

“The night shall always be yours, dear sister, even if I needed to borrow it for a time,” Celestia replied reassuringly. “This is the same. You shall still be the princess of the night, and I of the day. It’ll just be a little less literal from now on.”

“And to that, you have no objections?” Luna asked carefully.

Celestia looked out at the dawn as she considered the question. “No. There’s no reason to object to it,” she said softly. “This may well be a natural evolution of our roles. After all, our cutie marks represent far more than bringing forth sun and moon, do they not?” She smiled knowingly at her sister, whose hesitant expression warmed slightly in response.

Luna’s mouth opened a fraction and for a moment she seemed to want to speak, but evidently thought better of it. Instead, she looked back out onto the dawn, as if to assure her it existed. "What is your plan for the day?" Celestia asked, breaking the silence.

"Well, I..." Luna paused, visibly stifling a yawn. "Excuse me. I believe sleep would be most prudent. I admit, I haven't slept in some time, and the dawn has taken quite a bit out of me."

"I should do the same," Celestia said. She tilted her head slightly as she tried to recall if Twilight had mentioned anything about her concussion. "Apparently, if I get enough bed rest, my headache will be cured?"

"So Ramheart says,” Luna confirmed with a nod. “He also advised that somepony monitor you, which is why I nominated Twilight. I didn't expect her to monitor you so closely, however..."

"What?” Celestia’s brow furrowed in confusion, but when her sister glanced over at the bedroom door, she realised it was an implication. She shook her head lightly, embarrassed. “Oh, that wasn't what it seemed."

Luna’s lips quirked up into a slight smirk. "Oh, so she wasn't monitoring you? How scandalous...”

Celestia's features began to grow flushed. "Luna!"

"What?" she asked innocently.

"You make it sound so..." Celestia trailed off, leaving the words hanging in the air.

Luna hummed contemplatively. "So then, why was she sleeping in your bed?"

The white alicorn stopped herself from rolling her eyes mid-roll and found herself up looking up at the sky. “Is there a reason why two friends cannot share a bed now and again?”

“Is there a reason why you’re dodging the question?” her sister pressed.

“Of course not,” Celestia replied flatly, knowing she was cornered. Her ear flicked as she took a moment to organise her thoughts before explaining. “I’ve just... been sleeping poorly lately. I’ve also been disorientated upon waking thanks to this concussion. I had a very bad shock as a result when I woke in the hospital and didn’t care to repeat it. So I asked her to stay with me a while.”

Luna’s ears drooped slightly. “You could have asked me...”

“I...” Celestia froze momentarily. “I could have,” she agreed. “But we had just had a fight, and we both needed some space. I only began to fret about it after Twilight had come to check up on me.”

"You still should have told me about your sleeping problem," the younger alicorn said sadly. “At the very least, I could have eased your nightmares..."

Celestia bowed her head sadly. "I'm sorry, I hadn't realised..." She paused, looking back at Luna with a surprised expression. "You knew I was having nightmares? For how long?"

"I checked up on you not an hour ago, and it was written across your expression," replied Luna, though she cocked her head and gazed intently at her sister. "Only now, I gather that you've been having them for some time?"

Caught out, Celestia hesitated in her reply, and Luna's disappointed face told her that the night princess now knew everything she needed to know.

Well, almost everything. "The nightmares are of Discord, aren't they?" Luna asked sadly. "Oh Celestia..."

Celestia felt her gut twist. Here was the perfect opportunity to end this without hurting Luna, to let her believe the chaotic draconequis was behind everything, the perfect scapegoat.

"Luna, I –" But how could she say yes, to confirm Luna's incorrect suspicions? It would be just what that fiend Discord would want, an utter lack of Harmony between them. Luna was her equal! Hiding things from her would debase the love they felt for one another, and Celestia knew that despite what she wanted, the truth would come out eventually. What would hurt Luna today would shatter her tomorrow.

Her throat was a vice-grip. "It's not Discord, sister."

Her sister frowned. "T-then..."

Now was the time to come clean. "I..." And in the moment of truth, Celestia wavered. "I dreamed of thorns, Luna," she said. A technical truth, yes, but deceptive and dishonest. Hardly a truth at all. "Thorns everywhere. But tonight I found a way out of them." She turned her head away, looking back out at the sunrise. "We'll talk about this later, when I am healed."

Luna nodded lightly, and that was that. She had swallowed a small lie holding a genuine promise for the truth. Celestia hated indulging in the deception Luna's assumptions had offered, but she wasn't ready to air out her demons, not yet.

"So, did the dream end happily at least?" asked the darker alicorn.

"Yes, it did," replied Celestia. "It was all very different than usual." A realization occurred to her, and she smiled gratefully at the midnight-blue mare. "I take it I have you to thank for the dream?"

Luna puffed up slightly, proud. "You are quite welcome. It was an old charm I am adept at, meant to grant sweet dreams."

"So you..." It was like a coil suddenly unwound in her chest, all the tension she had felt upon waking beside Twilight vanishing. It had just been a spell! It wasn’t her mind trying to tell her she was falling for somepony, it had just been a spell trying to give her a sweet image to savour.

More than that, Celestia felt her heart swell with the realisation that her terrible reoccurring nightmare had been overturned by her sister’s kindness. She had dreamed of freeing Luna from the thorns, but it had really been the other way around all along, hadn’t it? She didn’t deserve Luna as a sister. The elder alicorn found herself laughing softly, and, on seeing Luna's curious look, she simply smiled. "I think that dream might have been just what I needed."

Luna smiled back, pleased. “If you don't mind my asking, what was it you dreamed of? After the thorns, I mean."

Celestia thought about it a moment. The vast empty plain, filled with life by the ponies who passed through it. "I dreamed of Equestria," the princess replied.

"Of course you did," Luna said with a chuckle. "And... I suppose you dreamed of Twilight as well?" Her smile was just short of sly.

"Yes, we - " 'We ate fruit below a tree I've never seen before, and when she offered me a taste I...' Except that was just part of the spell, Celestia firmly reminded herself. She coughed, and continued speaking. "We were growing plants. Oh, and running through a wide grassland. Oh, but it wasn't just Twilight, you were there too."

Luna balked slightly. "Not at the same time, I hope."

"Not really, no,” she shook her head carefully, Luna’s reaction giving her a slightly foreboding sensation. “Why would that matter?" A thought occurred to her, and she narrowed her eyes playfully. “Aha... did you have something to do with what I saw?”

“Pardon?” Luna frowned.

“It was your spell,” Celestia pointed out. “Were you teasing me, perhaps?”

The dark alicorn blinked, hesitating as she almost visibly grappled with an explanation. "You are not overly familiar with dream magic, are you?" she hazarded.

It wasn’t the response she had been looking for, and Celestia hesitated for a moment. "I'm afraid those spells are almost entirely beyond me," she confessed. She glanced back at her flank to contemplate the sun cutie mark emblazoned upon it. "After all, the day is the time to act out dreams, not contemplate them." 'With the exception of daydreams and meditation, of course', she added mentally. 'And possibly mirages, but those are mostly illusion and misdirection.' Celestia might not be able to guide dreams but she could still craft illusions with the best of them.

Her sister’s voice snapped her from her thoughts. "Now, now,” she said, mistaking Celestia’s silence for melancholy. “The moon merely reflects the sun's glow. Not only that, you also guided the moon admirably for over a thousand years.”

"Which is why I said almost," Celestia said, allowing herself a moment to grin proudly. “But dreams are more than the night, the moon's influence is more than acting as the sun's reflection, and –" She paused, catching Luna's amused look. "And I suppose you're the last pony I should lecture to about the moon's magical significance," she finished somewhat sheepishly.

Luna nodded. "Quite." They then both broke out into quiet giggles. "Well, at any rate, you should probably ask Twilight to find you a book on dream magic.”

"I'll do that,” Celestia agreed.

“As for me, I’m going to rest.” Luna stepped forward and hugged her sister tight.

“There’s probably going to be a lot of hubbub in the court today,” Celestia murmured into the hug. As they separated, she smiled reassuringly. “I know you’ll be able to handle it, but if you need anything, even just an official statement, you’ll know where to find me.”

Luna nodded in understanding. “And you!” she said firmly, but with a grin that amused Celestia. “Make sure to rest well, listen to the doctors and behave yourself!”

Celestia let out a mock-sigh. “Very well! If the princess insists, what place does an invalid like me have in contradicting her?”

“Hmm, so she can be taught...” Luna said with a grin, earning a rise of an eyebrow from her sister. Luna took no heed, instead spreading her wings and hopping onto the balcony. Celestia stood beside her as they gazed for one last moment out at Luna’s dawn, before the younger turned her head to the other and smiled. “I’ll see you later,” she said. Celestia nodded, and with a beat of dark wings Luna was gone.

Watching her sister soar into the dawn-lit sky, Celestia let out a deep sigh of relief, smiling at her silhouette. It was good to see Luna happy, especially in the wake of their argument the previous night. ‘And her dream spell helped to ease the nightmare as well. Perhaps they will fade in time...’ Celestia couldn’t help but hope. She was tired of extravagant shows of trust that only made her feel guilty for their necessity, but it was a new day, with new opportunities to fix these broken little issues.

Still smiling to herself, Celestia made her way back into her room. Twilight was still fast asleep; bless her, obviously exhausted from the previous day’s trying events. The image of the dream Twilight surfaced in the princess’ mind, but she dismissed it easily now that her head was clear. Carefully, so as not to wake her, Celestia eased herself back into the bed, once more finding her favourite cozy spot in the centre of the bed.

However, since Celestia’s momentary departure from the bed, Twilight had moved in her sleep, turning over and occupying a sizable portion of her favoured spot. Celestia mulled it over in her mind. On the one hoof, this was a problem; her favourite spot was occupied. On the other hoof, it was no problem at all; it was occupied by Twilight, and she was more than welcome to share it. Free cuddles was one bargain Celestia never seemed to find offered to her often enough, so she snuggled in beside her student without deliberating any further.

As quickly as they had closed, Celestia’s eyes snapped open. ‘Oh, I almost forgot about Spike. The poor dear is still alone.’ Which meant, of course... her eyes wandered to the deep purple mane occupying most of her vision. Celestia wished she could have let Twilight continue to sleep. She was such a sweet thing, taking care of her so diligently. But Spike needed to be taken care of too, and Twilight had promised to leave at dawn to check up on him. Celestia felt a bout of weariness and longing. ‘When was the last time I simply slept in bed and cuddled with somepony?’ she mused internally, almost melancholic.

But, noblesse oblige.

She nudged Twilight softly. The lavender mare turned over in her sleep and, now facing Celestia, mumbled something incoherent. Celestia suppressed a snort of amusement. ‘Adorable, but not my intention.’

Celestia lightly poked the unicorn in her belly with a white hoof. That got a reaction, with Twilight squirming under the touch. “Ugh- huh?” she grunted in protest, her eyes opening

“Good morning, Twilight.” Celestia smiled warmly down at her.

The unicorn blinked, her eyelids drooping as she emerged from the haze of sleep. “Hello Celestia...” she murmured, smiling absently up at the alicorn.

“You seem to have slept well,” Celestia said, suppressing a light giggle. “Did you have sweet dreams?”

“Hmm, maybe...” Twilight replied drowsily. She closed her eyes and, with a contented sigh, snuggled closer to Celestia.

“Twi~light,” the alicorn teased in a sing-song tone. “Are you still dreaming?”

The unicorn smiled. “I must be...” she murmured.

Celestia chuckled. “No, really Twilight, you need to get up. You promised.”

For half a second, Twilight went utterly still, before her eyes shot open. She looked up at Celestia’s face hovering above hers, and the princess could practically see the wheels in her mind turning as they struggled for traction. Finally, the pieces came together for her, and Twilight jolted upright with a yelp. “I-I didn’t just-?” she stammered, before covering her face with her hooves. “Oh dear.”

“Good morning to you too, Twilight,” Celestia said, amused by her reaction.

“I, um, good morning Celes- um, Princess. H-how did you sleep?”

“Back to titles?” Celestia asked in a disappointed voice. She was teasing Twilight and they both knew it, but the alicorn found herself surprised by how genuine the disappointment really was. Acting on that feeling, her teasing grin returned. “You know, if you slip up now and again and simply call me Celestia, I won’t correct you.”

Twilight’s jaw hung slack for a moment, before it was claimed by a bashful grin she tried to hide with a hoof. She mumbled something beneath her breath.

Celestia’s ear flicked deliberately. “I apologise, you’ll have to speak up.”

Twilight squirmed, embarrassed, and the alicorn marvelled at how red her protégé’s face was getting. Heavens forgive her, but Celestia couldn’t help it, the need to tease her was stronger than the call of the sun each morning. A panicking Twilight was adorable when she wasn’t inciting riots over stuffed animals.

“As for your question, I slept quite well,” she informed the unicorn with an even expression. “Even though somepony occupied my favourite spot in the bed.” She punctuated her remark with a light tap of her hoof against Twilight’s side.

Celestia could almost see the wires fry in the lavender mare’s brain. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” She hopped aside instantly and, horn glowing, went about fluffing up pillows and straightening the duvet. As the unicorn half-danced around in a mad panic, Celestia crawled back into the spot Twilight had been resting in. It was still warm, and she found no trouble with getting cozy once more, even with the skittish unicorn flitting about the bed.

It suddenly dawned on Celestia that Twilight was flustered about waking up beside her – that is, she was panicking about the very same notion Celestia herself had panicked about not a half-hour before. Realising she was being rather unfair to the poor mare, she spoke up. “Twilight.” Celestia smiled, and the panicking unicorn froze. “I’m only teasing you.” She leaned in and nuzzled the side of her head, feeling the unicorn tangibly relax and lean into the touch. “Thank you for staying with me, I appreciated it very much.”

Twilight turned and slid her neck around Celestia’s, moving into a tight hug. “Y-you’re welcome, Celestia. I... I just want to make things up to you.”

“For what, the accident?” Celestia asked. She felt Twilight nod against her shoulder. ‘Ever responsible...’ the princess mused. If she was to relieve her of this irrational guilt, mere reassurances wouldn’t do. Twilight would have to see with her own eyes and come to her own conclusions about matters. “All right then. Later on today contact the rest of the team working on the experiment and start investigating what went wrong.”

Twilight pulled away and nodded. “Okay. We should figure out something. After all, we managed to preserve most of the data before evacuating.”

“And you’re sure nopony else was hurt?”

The unicorn nodded again. “I’m sure, we were just... shaken. We had just made it out of the building, and I was expecting you to follow, but...” She frowned, a stricken expression descending over her face. “Celestia, I just don’t understand how it created an explosion that big – it blew half the roof off of the facility! And you were in the middle of it...”

“It’s a pity I can’t remember what happened,” the princess sighed, frustration at her headache rising slightly. “At the very least, I’d be able to tell you what happened in the lead up to it all.” Celestia rested her chin atop her hoof. “Hmm... you said my amnesia was only temporary?”

Twilight went still for a fraction of a second. “Y...yes... it should be. I’ll read up a bit on it?” she offered. Her eyes scanned over Celestia, from her bandaged brow to her burn, already fading from sore red to a soft and healthy pink. “Um, how are you feeling?”

“Better. Certainly a lot better,” she said. “I think I’ll wait for Doctor Ramheart’s opinion before I say anything else though.”

Twilight nodded absently, her eyes moving over Celestia. A silence hung over them, a comfortable blanket of idle peace the princess was loath to cast off. But, ever-mindful of pressing concerns, Celestia cast it off anyway, prodding Twilight lightly in the side with her forehoof. “You should go check up on Spike,” she reminded her. Twilight nodded and hopped off the bed without argument.

Celestia brushed a lock of her mane out of her eyes. “Something wrong, Twilight?” she asked, noticing the unicorn had paused again, staring at her. “I’m fine now, really, you needn’t worry,” she assured her.

Twilight rapidly shook her head, a rising blush spreading from her cheeks. “Oh! No, no, it’s okay, I’ll just... uh... I, um, yeah.” She coughed in her hoof, unsuccessfully hiding a mortified expression. She turned and made her way to the door of the chambers, still looking at Celestia from over her shoulder. “Gonna check up on Spike now!” she said, finally looking at where she was going in order to open the doors to the chamber. She lingered by the door for a moment, before looking back and flashing Celestia a quick smile.

She was gone before the alicorn had the chance to return it.

~{C}~

Twilight practically skipped down the halls of the castle – how could she not? It was a bright new day, the birds were singing in the gardens, the world was full of endless possibilities and she absolutely, most certainly was not in love with Celestia.

The unicorn stumbled mid-step and barely caught herself from winding up sprawled on the ground. A nearby guard gave her a concerned look. “Are you alright miss?”

Twilight rigidly turned her head and forced a smile. “Perfectly alright, thanks.”

She continued on her way at a more controlled pace afterward, growling at herself. ‘Get yourself together, Twilight!’ She hoped she could at least make it back to her chambers before she made a foal of herself in front of somepony again.

Fortunately, her room wasn’t too far a journey, and her good humour had returned by the time she reached it. She opened the double doors with a push of magic and strode inside. “Good morning Spike!” she practically sang.

The baby dragon in question just groaned from his basket at the foot of Twilight’s bed. Celestia had offered him a bed of his own, but he claimed to be unable to sleep without the same arrangements he and Twilight had in Ponyville. The princess had met him half-way with a luxury-sized basket, in which he was now burrowing deeper into in order to escape the unicorn who had far too much cheer for so early in the morning.

Twilight merely grinned and flopped on her bed, heart racing. ‘Okay, come on girl, get back together,’ she told herself. ‘It was just a sleepover at the most.’ There was no need for her mind to drift off, to bask in the memory and sensation of being nestled into the alicorn’s side, of watching her sleep, so unguarded, in the night and of her lidded, loving eyes meant only for her in the morning... ‘And she wants me to call her by name...’ Twilight giggled softly, having soundly lost her mental battle against her desires.

But how could she have ever won in the first place? It was too much for her to take. Even the slightest reminder of Celestia seemed enough to split her in two. Turning over in her bed, lost in thoughts of her mentor, Twilight’s hoof nudged one of her pillows. It was fluffy and cloud-white, so she snatched it up immediately with a touch of magic and brought it within her grip. She clutched it tightly and nuzzled it, thoughts of Celestia running uncontrollably through her mind.

‘Oh heavens, she’s so beautiful... oh... and she held me...’ In her mind’s eye, Twilight could practically see Celestia’s face, practically feel Celestia’s forelegs around her once more. She had felt them, it had been real, it had to be.

Absently, Twilight noted with disappointment that the pillow was a poor substitute for her radiant princess. All it had was the colour of her coat, nothing else. It had none of her warmth, none of her reassuring firmness. The fine silk of the pillowcase was a burlap sack compared to her texture, her white coat of fine hair and soft wings of sleek feathers. For a split second Twilight imagined what her horn might feel like – probably ivory – before she blushed deeper and pushed the guilty thought aside, instead burying her face deeper into her poor-mare substitute for Celestia. ‘It’s not the same... it’s just not the same as being there...’ the unicorn bemoaned internally. ‘Oh, why did I panic? Why didn’t I just stay there a little longer?’

The guilt began to creep in on her euphoria, and she ducked her head between her forearms in an attempt to escape. ‘I shouldn’t be having these thoughts,’ she said to herself admonishingly. ‘I shouldn’t. But if I close my eyes, I can almost feel her... I can almost catch her scent...’ She sighed breathily, before halting her laments as she caught a trace of something on the air.

Twilight raised her nose and began to test the air. She hadn’t imagined it – she had caught a faint trace of her mentor’s scent, the same reassuring spice and sandalwood blend, though faded, giving way to something much more naturally equine. Twilight sniffed at the pillow and her sheets, wondering what Celestia had been doing in these chambers, until the bit dropped.

It was Twilight herself. She had spent the night acting out an impossible dream, and yet mingled with her own scent was invisible evidence of last night’s reality, caressed into her very skin.

With that realisation, Twilight’s already frazzled, overheated mind approached the consistency of boiling applesauce. Her heart thundered against her ribs at a furious staccato beat, her forelegs became a vice around her pillow. The same scent that set her off before, that made her overcompensate Celestia’s illusion, that scent which nearly gave her away completely... ‘And it’s all over me. It’s mingling with my own, it’s... oh!’

Twilight was lost again, deeper than ever. She tossed and turned in her bed, rocking back and forth with her pillow in her grip, revelling in Celestia’s scent, revelling in her memories and her fantasies. Thoughts of Celestia, hovering over her, nuzzling her, whispering, promising...

“Twilight? What’re you doing?”

Twilight was snapped unceremoniously from her fantasies by a bleary-eyed Spike, looking at her from the foot of her bed. Her already blushing face deepened to a near-red as she stumbled through dawning comprehension of what had just occurred. “I... wha–?”

“You’ve been giggling to yourself and rolling around for ten minutes,” he told her. “It’s getting creepy.”

“S-sorry, Spike, I...” She cleared her throat and sat up self-consciously. “Sorry.”

The greatest, most awkward of silences prevailed, lord and master of the air between the two. Glancing over at the door of their en suite bathroom, Twilight finally ended its reign of tyranny with a simple, “I’m going to go take a bath.”

“Uh, okay...” Spike replied, scratching the back of his head with his claws self-consciously.

With all the calmness and composure she could muster, Twilight hopped off the bed, trotted past the baby dragon and into the bathroom, set the water running into the marble bath, added some salts and bubblebath to the mix and, gritting her teeth hard, leaped inside.

Freezing!

Twilight stifled a shriek as she plunged into the ice cold water. ‘Why did I think this was a good idea!?’ Her jaw, still tightly shut, began to flex, trying to clatter as the cold sent pangs through her body. Quickly, she reached out with her magic and turned the hot faucet on.

She had never really needed a cold shower before, but in certain fiction books she had perused the concept had been presented as a means of focus on cleaner thoughts. She regretted not investigating further and assuming a cold bath was an equitable alternative – clearly, the “system shock” was what was desired, and while she had certainly attained that with the bath, she had also been left sitting up to her withers in freezing cold water. ‘Perhaps I should investigate this further for future reference?’ Twilight contemplated, stirring the water with a levitated scrub-brush in order to better spread the hot water now pouring into the tub. ‘No,’ she decided. ‘No, this doesn’t warrant any further research. This is stupid. This whole thing is stupid.’

Her mind clear now, she quickly grew more and more annoyed with herself. She was acting like a little filly with a schoolyard crush – but that was the root of the problem, wasn’t it?

Yet, unbidden, her heart continued to call up that image of Celestia, not the one she had seen in her eyes for all her life, the icon of perfection, but of the Celestia she had woken up beside – her coat singed, her feathers blackened, her head bandaged, and yet somehow more beautiful than she had ever seen. A Celestia close enough to touch, to –

‘Stop it.’ Twilight frowned, sinking to her chin in the water.

But she looked at you, that part of her argued, and you know it was different. There had to be something there.

‘Enough. That’s just hormones talking.’

You love her.

‘I do, but not in that way. Yesterday was stressful, and the psychological shock and endorphins have simply... kicked up a few things better left buried. Enough is enough.’

You can’t deny what your heart feels. Mind and body work as one. You know, logically and emotionally, that you are not some cold, calculating machine. You can’t deny your feelings, you can’t put them in a box and hide it under your bed.

‘I’m not denying how I feel. But I can let it run its course. I can let it go. This isn’t how I want to feel... this much is enough, so just let it go.’

Her heart was silent to that, conceding the round to her head, but Twilight knew neither was fully satisfied. Ignoring it, she focused on her bath, shutting off the hot faucet now that the temperature was acceptable. She scrubbed extra hard, cleaning off every last scrap of ash still clinging to her body and making doubly sure her coat smelled of nothing but her favourite lavender soap.

Emerging quickly from the bath, she dried herself off with a quick, precise blast of a wind spell, before marching back into her room and plopping down in front of her dressing table. Three Twilights looked back at her from the expensive vanity mirror, but she refused to meet their gaze until her mane was thoroughly brushed and even. ‘Should my highlight go on the left or the right side of my horn?’ she debated briefly, before shrugging and leaving it as it always was.

Finally, she looked, really looked at her reflection. She saw those three Twilight Sparkles looking confidently back at her, and felt equine again.

“Alright, Spike!” she announced brightly. “We’ve got a lot to do today. Are you ready?”

Spike, already determined to resume his dozing, merely grunted in reply.

She turned and looked at him disapprovingly. “Spike, come on, it’s time to get up.”

“What time is it, even?” the dragon groaned from his basket.

Twilight glanced at the clock. “It’s a quarter to seven.”

Spike moaned and pulled his blankets over his head. “Why do I have to get up so early?”

“Because I need to take care of Celestia today, but neither of us want you to have to wake up in the castle alone,” she replied earnestly.

Spike’s muffled voice rose from the blankets. “I was up all night yesterday. Trust me, I’ve got no plans to wake up at all today.”

Twilight opened her mouth to protest, but then paused to consider it. Spike did know the castle well, and he had been up far later than his usual bedtime... “Alright, how about a compromise?” she offered him.

A sleepy yet curious green eye peered up at her from a gap in his blankets. “Yeah?”

“You come down to the kitchens with me and we’ll get some breakfast,” she said. “Then, you can nap the day away, okay?”

The blankets twitched, and the baby dragon emerged from their folds. “Alright, you make a convincing argument,” he said, stretching his tired limbs.

“Great!” Twilight smiled and levitated him onto her back, where he quickly found the usual spot. His spines dug slightly into her coat for grip, a little deeper than she had gotten used to over the years. It had been that way for a few months, and coupled with a little weight gain, Twilight was forced to admit it – he was growing up. Properly, this time. “Could you just do one teensy favour for me?” she asked him.

Spike flourished a quill and parchment, already prepared. “Checklist?” he asked with a grin.

Twilight chuckled with the dragon. “And that’s why you’re my number one assistant,” she said appreciatively as they walked out into the castle hallways. “Alright then, checklist for today. Item one –”

“What, no need for extra ink?”

“Ha ha. No, this is a short list.” Twilight rolled her eyes – she was never going to live that down. “Anyway, item one: take care of Celestia. Mark that high priority and importance, Spike.”

“Gotcha.” The scritch-scratch of the quill on parchment drifted in her ear. She didn’t even have to turn to check if his clawwriting was legible – Spike had long ago mastered the art of transcription on horseback.

“Item two: speak with fellow researchers. We need to figure out what happened with that explosion to see if we’ve got any hope of salvaging my research.” Her ears perked up. “Who knows, if the data looked promising and we resolve the source of the catastrophe, we might even be able to repeat it successfully!”

“Too bad about the princess’ amnesia, huh?” Spike asked. “She would’ve been able to tell us exactly what happened, wouldn’t she?”

Twilight’s pace slowed for a moment as she went somewhat silent, but her assistant’s voice snapped her out of the daze. “Uh, Twilight?”

“Hm? I... yes, you’re right Spike. Princess Celestia was saying the same thing earlier.” Twilight bit her lip. ‘If she remembers, then...’ “Spike, item three: Find some medical books in the library on post-traumatic amnesia.”

“Good call.”

“Thank you, Spike,” Twilight replied primly. “And finally, item four: Speak with Princess Luna.”

“Huh?” Spike’s brow raised in confusion.

“She seemed upset last night,” she explained. “I want to make sure she’s okay.”

Her stomach grumbled. “Oops.” She chuckled, embarrassed. “Item five: hurry up and get to the kitchen!”

Spike jotted that note down with gusto. “I like the sound of that!”

Picking her pace up to a light canter, she quickly made her way through the castle’s wide corridors until she arrived at the minor hall which served as the crossroads between the true dining hall and the palace kitchen. Debating briefly on where to go, she spotted an earth pony mare in a black blouse and an apron emerge from the kitchen route.

“Um, excuse me?” she called to the servant. The mauve earth pony maid looked over at her, and a flash of recognition in her eyes showed she knew who Twilight was.

“Ah, Miss Sparkle, good morning,” she greeted pleasantly. “I take it you’re here for breakfast?”

“Yes, actually.” Twilight nodded. “Princess Celestia is going to be resting today, so we were hoping something could be sent up to her?”

“Of course, of course. It’s just...” The maid paused. “Let me get the steward,” she said with a smile.

Twilight watched with a slight note of confusion as the maid trotted over to the doors of the dining hall, briskly tapping her hoof against it. The doors opened under a green glow of magic and a teal unicorn emerged. After the two quickly traded a few whispered words, the unicorn nodded in understanding and approached Twilight, smiling pleasantly. “Good morning, Miss Sparkle.”

“Good morning. Is...” Twilight paused. “Is something the matter?”

“Not at all; in fact, it’s fortunate you’re here,” the steward replied. “We have a slight surplus in food this morning, you see, and we fear it is rather perishable. Tell me, do you think the Princess would object to a more simple breakfast than usual?”

“I can’t say that she would, but why...?” Twilight began, before the unicorn’s horn glowed. The double doors leading to the main dining hall opened wide under the steward’s push of magic, revealing to Twilight the exact nature of the ‘foodstuff surplus’.

Spike’s jaw dropped. “Are these all for...?”

“The princess, yes,” the steward said with a nod.

“Oh...” the lavender mare murmured in dawning comprehension. Grinning, she turned to the steward. “I don’t think this will be a problem at all.”

~{C}~

After Twilight left, Celestia had tried to get a spot more rest. She found, however, that a strange frustration held her efforts at bay. She idly observed the emotion through the corner of her mind’s eye, trying to identify its source. It didn’t elude her for long – she was sweaty, and her skin felt almost slimy against the sheets. ‘When was the last time I had a bath?’ she wondered. She realised it had to have been before the accident, which meant... her expression twisted in distaste – she had slept all night marinating in soot!

She rose from her bed, pushing the duvet off and looking down at where she had slept. A streaky circle of grey marked her spot, standing in stark contrast to the pure white of the rest of the silk sheet. ‘I hope that can be cleaned...’ she thought ruefully, thinking of the unfortunate servant who would be stuck with the duty of bleaching it out.

She walked out of her bedroom and into her adjacent washroom with the intention of freshening up – she didn’t want to spend the time between now and her next bath feeling like she was wallowing in sweaty grime, and besides, what would her servants think to see her like that?

She filled a clay bowl with warm water from a silver faucet and gingerly lifted it with her teeth. While scanning the room for a suitable place to sit for the unusual task, her attention was drawn to the mirror that dominated the blank wall. Her reflection was obscured by a thin silk veil, transforming her reflection into a pink dapple against the orange and red of the fabric screen. It was a curious effect, which is why she had it installed in the first place, but instead of admiring it she found herself dreading what lay beyond.

‘Well, nothing else for it but to look,’ she figured, trotting purposefully towards it.

Setting the bowl of warm water on the ground, she reached forward, tugged the silk away from the face of the mirror, and was struck by the sight of herself, for the first time since the accident.

It wasn’t the burn stretching across the right of her body that stunned her into silence, nor was it the bandages wrapped around her head in place of her crown. She had expected those. What she hadn’t expected was how grey she looked.

‘Goodness, I look like Discord got a hold of me,’ she thought, her mouth twisting in distaste at the morbid thought.

To anypony else, she was sure her coat would seem white, but the streaks of grey where ash still clung to her hair and was rubbed into her skin were plain as day to her eyes. Noting the splotchiness of the stains, it occurred to her that somepony had attempted to clean her up after the accident. Probably a unicorn, considering she only had a few pegasus attendants. She extended her wings to check, and concluded that whoever had washed her most certainly was not a pegasus – the ash and soot was much more pronounced in her wings, entrenched between her feathers too deep for a mere wipe of a washcloth to reach. Wingless ponies just didn’t understand how to maintain wings.

There was no way a simple freshening up would be enough to restore her complexion to her normally pristine sheen. A bath, as soon as possible, was paramount.

She scrubbed her face and neck until they were free of all soot, then let the washcloth fall into the water. Gripping it with her teeth, she carefully lifted the now redundant bowl and dropped it back into the sink, then left the washroom, contemplating her options. Though what she really wanted was a good, hot bath – and perhaps a massage – there was one thing she could do to clean up and relax.

Back in her room, she tugged the door to her closet open with her teeth. Mercifully, it glided open without even the faintest of whispers. Thanking the diligence of her servants for keeping it well-oiled, she walked in and quickly spotted her quarry – a full-length mirror mounted on a wheeled frame, normally reserved for use when she was being fitted for ball gowns. ‘This will do nicely,’ she thought, pleased, as she rolled it towards her bed.

Celestia perched herself at the end of the bed and snatched a few cushions for support with a nudge of magic. Her headache protested weakly, but it was nothing she couldn’t simply ignore. With one eye on her reflection in the mirror to guide her muzzle, Celestia reared her head back and began to preen her wings.

The act of preening was extremely relaxing for a pegasus, and Celestia was no exception. At the base of the primaries in particular were clusters of nerve endings enabling a pony to instinctively sense shifts in wind direction, humidity, temperature, and all sorts of other minute details mid-flight. Of course, like all things, some were naturally better at using this enhanced sense of touch than others. Some even trained themselves at it in order to improve their instincts, becoming weather-ponies or racers. Celestia knew she had particular skill in sensing shifts in the weather, but couldn’t claim any great innate talent. Centuries of practice and hard work were what had honed her skills with that sense, particularly when it came to humidity and temperature – creating the perfect summer’s day wasn’t a matter of simply raising the sun and hoping for the best, after all.

Preening stimulated those nerves as part-massage, part-acupuncture, relaxing the body, loosening joints and ligaments and triggering endorphins to keep the muscles limber. Rather than use her teeth, which would run the risk of outright plucking healthy feathers, Celestia carefully clamped down on each individual feather with her lips and tested it with a light tug. Several of the burnt ones came out without protest, carrying with them a disconcerting sensation, comparable to what the Earth must feel when a carrot is plucked from its soil. ‘I’m moulting...’ she realised as she continued to preen. ‘It must be because I’m healing. These feathers will replace themselves soon.’

There was a musical call in the air accompanied by a rustle of wings belonging to another, and a hot bundle of feathers and claws alighted on her back. In the mirror, Celestia could see Philomena perched atop her white frame, eyeing her with curiosity. “Why good morning, my dear Philomena,” she said with a bright smile.

Philomena cried out in greeting, cocking her head at her master, who chuckled. “Yes, yes, I am aware my wings are positively filthy.”

Philomena warbled in disagreement, nuzzling Celestia’s dirty feathers. Celestia’s smile shifted into one of appreciation. “Hmm, of course,” she chuckled. “I should have known you wouldn’t have a problem with a touch of ash between the feathers.”

The phoenix crowed again, and Celestia laughed. “Oh, you think it’s a good look for me?” She studied her reflection again. Stretching her wings wide in a display of intimidation, she leered at the scuffed alicorn before her and tried to imagine a warrior. “Hmm, no,” she chuckled, and her reflection turned softer once more. “These are not turbulent times, it’s more appropriate to be clean. Why, we even have running water now!”

Philomena crowed wearily. “Oh shush, let me indulge myself,” she said, returning her attention to her wings.

After a few more burnt feathers had been plucked, she noticed her phoenix was still studying her.

“Are you taking notes?” she asked, fixing her with a playful glare. “If you preened yourself more often, your rejuvenation would go along much faster.”

Philomena scoffed and began to scratch under her wing with her beak, clearly bored of watching her master tidy herself. Celestia merely rolled her eyes and, horn lit with a golden aura, sent the blackened, plucked feathers around her towards a wastebasket beneath her dressing table.

Suddenly, the base of her horn spurted bright sparks, lighting up the room like the flash of a dozen cameras. Celestia cut her magic immediately, but was too late. What felt like a hot spike of ice plunged into her skull right underneath her horn, robbing her breath as her migraine surged over her.

‘It was only feathers!’ She groaned and scrunched up her face in concentration, trying to suppress the pain in her forehead. The room spun, and Celestia carefully placed a hoof down, relying on her earth pony nature to steady herself. Rather than stone or wood, however, her hoof pressed down into her mattress. Without a connection to the earth, the spinning room overwhelmed Celestia and she tumbled over into her bedcovers.

Head buried in her sheets, she simply lay there, waiting for the spinning and throbbing in her skull to abate. As it passed, she pushed herself back up and took a breath to collect herself before fixing Philomena with a stern look. “Not one word.”

The phoenix threw her head back and let out a loud, warbling laugh. An embarrassed blush rose across her cheeks. “Oh, you horrible thing, laughing at an invalid,” she groused, but a sheepish smile was growing at the corner of her mouth despite her words. “Didn’t I raise you better than that?”

Philomena paused, then warbled even louder, fluttering into the air to land at the bed’s headboard. Celestia chuckled and rested her head on the bed, without even worrying about pillows. ‘Nothing to do today except rest... how curious.’ Her hoof idly traced circles in her sheets, and when she looked up a neglected bookcase on the far wall caught her eye. “Philomena, dear, could you get me something to read?” she asked.

Philomena nodded and took to the air with a fiery beat of her wings, clearly trying to squeeze every last drop of drama from the daring feat of flying to the bookcase. Celestia sat up and stomped her hooves on her bed frame in applause to humour her vain pet as the bird landed on the top shelf and chirped. The phoenix's chest feathers puffed in pride, savouring the moment a while before deciding to get to business.

Hopping around the shelf and tilting her head to look at the titles, she seemed to spot something. Tapping a heavy tome with her talon, she chirped questioningly.

“Tax Policies through the Ages?” Celestia chuckled. “No thank you, something lighter, please.”

Philomena peered around the shelf, and then looked down over the edge to the shelf below her. Spotting something, she dived to the lower shelf and pulled a dusty scroll out from behind a few books.

“No, I didn’t mean literally lighter.” Celestia paused and peered in growing worry at the faded scroll in the bird's grip. “Is that... Oh dear, that's the missing Dead Sea Scroll, isn't it?” She bit her lip, mortified, only now remembering how she had temporarily borrowed it from the museum on a whim for some late-night reading... over nine years ago. “Philomena, stick it in my ‘out’ tray and remind me to mix it up into some of the unsorted Royal Archive documents later. We'll pretend the Illunanati hid it.”

Philomena squawked sceptically, but did as she was told – after all, it wasn't her first time sorting out the treasure trove of forgotten literature that was Celestia's personal, “light-reading” bookcase. Setting it aside, she lifted up another scroll.

Celestia shook her head. “No, I’d prefer a book, if it's not much trouble.” Books were made for use with hooves, and scrolls were a little tougher to manipulate without magic, since they had a tendency to roll back up when not fixed in place with magic or a paperweight.

Philomena picked up a small volume and brought it over to the alicorn, who looked at it curiously. “Fire and Rain: Collected Essays on the Interpretation of Dreams, by Sigmund Ears?” Celestia raised a thoughtful eyebrow at the book. ‘Now when did I get this... ah, yes, I remember, it was a gift from Twilight a while ago.’ She flicked it open with her hoof, flipping through the pages to find the index. ‘Perhaps it has some information about dream magic...’ Finding only a lone reference, she flicked over to the page in question and began to read.

... which must remain absolutely clear. However, magically-induced dreaming is less open to interpretation than regular REM-related dreams, as they generally invoke deliberate mental imagery with a clear structural flow of events. There is debate on how effective the insertion of artificial imagery into the subconscious mind through magic affect dreams, and even further debate on whether or not such acts fall under the garden of dream magic or in the much broader telepathy magic garden.

Her Majesty Princess Luna has gone on record clarifying that it is not the act, but the implementation that affects which garden a spell should reside in, explaining that while in “telepathic dreams” all dreamers will experience the same induced image, with dream magic the image is subject to the dreamer’s subconscious interpretation, meaning no two ponies would dream the same thing even if they are induced with the same image.

However, magically-induced dreaming is less open to interpretation than regular REM-related dreams, as they generally invoke deliberate mental imagery with a clear structural flow of events. There is debate on how effective the insertion of artificial imagery into the subconscious mind through magic affect dreams, and even further debate on whether or not such acts fall under the garden of dream magic or in the much broader telepathy magic garden. Princess Luna

Celestia blinked at the second mention of her sister’s name and paused in her reading. ‘I read that paragraph twice...’ she realised, frowning. Massaging her temple, she continued to search for hints.

Increasingly, these spells are used for therapeutic treatment of stress-related mental illnesses. The “Sweet Dreams” spell is one such example, which guides the sleeping mind away from negative thoughts and into a more positive “zone” which, in time, can be reached by simple meditation. In theory, this is reported to alleviate the symptoms of stress and depression, and findings do support these claims. As a result, there is a tendency in the public mind to believe such a spell is a cure-all for mental illnesses, but it must be stressed many disorders are chemically based also – a imbalance or deficiency of endorphins, adrenalin or certain hormones in the brain all impact on these illnesses, and must be treated with medicine the same as any other illness...

Celestia haltingly read on for several more pages, but the book seemed more interested in the topic of the interpretation of regular dreams and the psychology of ponies suffering from stress-related illnesses than dream spells, which made sense – the author’s portrait on the dust jacket of the volume showed an earth pony. It was all very interesting, to be sure, but not what Celestia was looking for, and besides that, she constantly found herself retreading words she had already read. Closing the book, she set it on her bedside table to read once she had healed completely so she could give it due focus.

“Philomena, I think I need something I’ve read before, so I don’t need to focus as hard,” Celestia said, looking over to the phoenix. “Any thoughts?”

She warbled and tugged a large, glossy red book off the shelf. Celestia watched as her pet flew up and landed in front of her, offering her the tome. The princess smiled knowingly as she read the title aloud.

“The Magic of Friendship: Studies on the connection between harmonious interpersonal relationships and the application of practical and theoretical magic...” Celestia’s smile widened. “By Twilight Sparkle. My faithful student’s thesis, hmm?” She turned her smile towards her phoenix. “A very thoughtful choice, Philomena, I –”

She paused, a feather of déjà vu stoking its way down her spine. She glanced down at Twilight’s thesis before her before closing her eyes, dropping into her meditative state. ‘This is significant,’ she told herself, knowing that a piece of her missing memory was related to the book. ‘Remain calm and allow the memory to come in due time,’ she instructed herself, and sure enough...

Sensations began to poke at the edge of her mind. The sensation of... nostalgia? ‘I was reading... something... the thesis?’ Celestia’s gut told her that was wrong, and she trusted it – it was more reliable than her head right now, at the very least. ‘No, not the thesis, but it was to do with Twilight...’

‘What else has Twilight written?’ she asked herself. ‘Well, her friendship reports...’ Like a sunrise over the mountains, a feeling of recollection began to overtake the amnesia plaguing her. Excitedly, Celestia thought of the friendship reports, but the harder she thought of them, the more fleeting her absent memories became.

'Wait. Stop.’ She breathed deeply, reasserting her meditative calm. ‘Simply allow it to arrive. Something... reading. Reading reports.' That was it, certainly, but there was more. At the edge of her mind, something was calling out for attention. Her eyes opened and she looked down at the thesis before her. ‘That’s what it was. You were thinking of Twilight, when she had graduated... and competed her thesis... and so was somepony else!'

She silently cheered for her small victory against her memory. There had been somepony, somepony talking about it...

Things clicked into place. The mountains obscuring her memory dissolved into mist, and suddenly her disembodied thoughts and subconscious cues made sense.

A smile spread across Celestia's face. 'Yes. Yesterday...'

She remembered!

~{C}~

Celestia had been in her study, lounging on her plush cushions and flicking through several memos relating to Court matters when a knocking at the door caught her attention.

"Enter," she bid the visitor inside, recognizing the knock as one of her guards' codes. In this case, “all's well; somepony seeks counsel”.

Sure enough, the door opened to reveal a guard. "Your majesty, Lady Twilight Sparkle has arrived. Shall I direct her here?"

"Please do, thank you," Celestia replied with a smile. The guard nodded curtly and, as soon as he left, Celestia set about tidying the notes and documents strewn about her. Picking them up with a touch of magic, she rose and moved to her desk, sending the memos flying into whichever pigeonhole they belonged. As usual, a shelf stacked full of rolls of parchment bound with red ribbon drew her attention and, as usual, she plucked up several and floated them towards her as she settled back down on her lounge cushion.

‘I have time to read a few...’ she told herself as the scrolls opened before her. When she had fallen into the habit of re-reading Twilight’s friendship reports, she wasn’t certain. She knew, however, this was more an act of nostalgia than anything else – Twilight had matured so much over the years out of her mentor’s mindful eye, the friendship reports often seemed to be the only map Celestia had to link the studious but reclusive student she remembered to the sharp and confident mare of today, just on the cusp of her career.

They still exchanged letters, increasingly often in the past months as Twilight’s research had begun taking several exciting turns, but it had been a long time since she had received a friendship report. That chapter in their lives was over, but Celestia wouldn’t mourn it.

She’d always have the letters.

She looked over them with a smile. Twilight had written this one the first time they had met the zebra sage, Zecora. This one was at a birthday party thrown for Pinkie, the Element of Laughter. She pulled another one towards her - this one was a personal favourite of the princess’, written after Twilight had discovered she and her friends’ cutie marks had all appeared due to the same event, Rainbow Dash’s first Sonic Rainboom. Celestia had, of course, investigated the Rainboom and learned about Rainbow Dash soon after Twilight entered her tutelage, but never had any idea all six of them earned their marks at the same time. Had it been the Elements at work? Or something greater?

Celestia couldn’t possibly tell. It had actually sparked a long conversation between Luna and herself about inevitability and the nature of destiny which went on into the long hours of the night. In the end, they had simply agreed that if destiny had truly united Twilight and her friends, then it followed that the universe desired harmony. Of course, Celestia had laughed and cautioned Luna that they were both somewhat biased towards Harmony, but they enjoyed the sentiment regardless.

Another scroll opened before her. This one was...

Celestia stared at the scroll for a moment, before smiling. She remembered this one...

This one was the one that had assured Celestia that her student was able to live her life out from under her teacher’s wing.

She had received it a few months after Twilight had begun living in Ponyville, and it stood out from the other letters mainly because her student’s correspondence had been extremely quiet in the preceding weeks. So, having begun to worry slightly for her welfare, Celestia had sent a casual letter to check up on her. This report was the reply, one that filled her with pride and assured her of her student’s growth. It was written in Twilight’s own writing rather than Spike’s, appropriate for how personal the contents were.

She sent the other scrolls back to their prized place on her shelf and settled down to read the report in her magic grip.

Dearest Princess Celestia,

I sincerely apologise for taking so long to send you my latest report. My mind had been preoccupied with doubts unlike what I am used to grappling with, and my studies suffered as a result. But, I’m happy to say those doubts are banished now, and because of that I learned an important lesson about friendship – a true friend is one who always watches out for you, and will be there for you even if you don’t realise you need them.

You must be wondering what these doubts were about, so I’m just going to outright say it.

I was in love with somepony, but she doesn’t love me back.

Though such a situation might be a minor tragedy to others, this was my first time experiencing heartbreak, and it devastated me. It led me to doubt myself, and to doubt my friends, to doubt the worth of my research. There were days I’d flat out refuse to get up, shutting the curtains and wallowing in the darkness.

But without even asking, my friends sensed my sadness and were there for me. They cheered me up and made me laugh and feel loved and, when I finally explained what I was going through to them, they were there to cry with me and reassure me.

I am very blessed to have such wonderful friends, and that includes you, Princess, because when I received your beautiful letter I knew that I would always have a place in the hearts of the ponies I love.

Friendship really can cure anything!

Ever your faithful student (and friend),

Twilight Sparkle

Celestia had been afraid something like that would have happened – out in the wider world, away from her fortress of books, Twilight was inevitably going to be vulnerable to emotional trials. Celestia had feared the mission and assignment she had given her student would prove to eventually be too much of a culture shock for the young mare to adjust to. Twilight was a passionate soul who would put her whole heart into whatever task she set her mind to, but because of that she was prone to overreaction, especially if there was a risk she would fail to live up to the standards she perceived others setting for her.

All her life she had foregone friendship in order to prove herself in her teacher’s eyes, something that had saddened Celestia behind all the pride she felt at her student’s accomplishments. She was well trained in etiquette and prided her persona as the princess’ star student, using these in lieu of actual social skills whenever she interacted with somepony new. She had unshakable confidence in her abilities, but that was because she knew Celestia was proud of her. Always measuring herself with another pony’s yardstick, she never truly built up confidence in her own worth, only confidence that others saw worth in her.

She went to desperate lengths to keep her friends and family’s approval. The thought of losing it shook her young heart to its core. How much worse would it be, how terribly would she be affected if somepony broke that heart?

“Devastating” was, no doubt, too light a word.

But...

Although she had cloistered herself away, although she hadn’t spoken a word to her mentor, and although Celestia hadn’t been there to help her... she got through it. Her friends had refused to abandon her to her own despair. Celestia smiled fondly to herself. It was from that point on that Twilight truly began to grow.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. “Enter!” she called.

The door was opened by her guard, and Celestia could see Twilight waiting right behind him. She smiled at the unicorn, who smiled back as the guard bowed respectfully. “Your majesty, announcing Lady Twilight Sparkle.”

“Thank you, sir,” Twilight said smartly, walking into the study.

Celestia rose to greet her student. “Twilight Sparkle! How lovely to see you.” She looked over at the guard and nodded in thanks. “That will be all for now, thank you.” The guard bowed again and closed the doors behind him, giving the alicorn and her protégé their privacy. “Twilight, I’m so glad you could make it. It’s simply been far too long.”

“It’s wonderful to see you too, Princess,” Twilight said. Her eyes moved to the scroll hovering before her mentor. “Oh, are you busy?”

“Not at all.” Celestia smiled, floating the report over to her. “Just doing some light reading of an old favourite.”

Twilight studied it for a second, before her eyes widened in recognition. She smiled warmly. “Oh, haha, wow,” she said, her eyes misting with reminiscence. “I remember writing this. Seems like it was a lifetime ago.”

“Yes, it really was, in a sense.” The scroll rolled up and was sent back to its place beside the others on the shelf. “I was just remembering how well you handled the situation, that’s all.”

Twilight gave her a flat look. “I stopped talking to everyone and locked myself in the library for nearly a month.”

Celestia chuckled. “Yes, and in the wake of it all you learned an important lesson about friendship and went on to be more outgoing in your social life and more diligent in your research than ever before, correct?” Her eyes narrowed as a sly grin crept up her face. “Perhaps a bit too diligent, hmm?”

Memories floated in the air between them, of Ponyville erupting into chaos – again – over an enchanted doll. Twilight chuckled self-consciously. “Not one of my finer moments...”

Celestia scoffed lightly. “I wouldn’t worry. You’re hardly short of those, my dear.” A yellow glow enveloped the cushions beside her and they arranged themselves into a comfortable spot large enough for a normal pony. She patted it with a hoof, inviting the unicorn over. “Now come, sit down and let’s catch up. There’s only so much our letters can convey, after all.”

They spent the next hour simply sharing the latest stories of each other’s lives. Twilight did most of the talking – of her research, of all the organisation and correspondence she had done to gather other researchers to help her work, of the breakthroughs they had made and her excitement about the day’s experiment. However, she still had plenty of stories of her friends in Ponyville, little moments and humorous recollections about Pinkie Pie’s latest antic, Rainbow Dash’s latest trick, or Rarity’s latest saddle design.

On her part, Celestia gave her thoughts on certain aspects of Twilight’s research, offering tidbits of knowledge and insight into magical rituals of times long past. The unicorn listened, nearly reverent in attention, jotting down in the corner of a scrap of parchment words of wisdom forgotten by time itself, saved only by one beyond time’s touch.

Then, reminded by Twilight’s story of an impromptu orchestra Pinkie had formed, Celestia switched the subject to an opera she had seen the past week. Twilight set the parchment aside and followed along, having read all about it in at least four books and a dozen classical music publications.

The conversation darted from there to art and art history to history, back to magic and then onto a dozen other topics as they simply spoke to one another, relishing the time spent together and soaking up each other’s presence.

Tea was delivered by a servant, conveniently filling up a lull in the conversation. Stirring her tea, a thought occurred to Celestia. “You know...” She looked at her protégé. “You never said who it was.”

“Who who was?” Twilight cocked her head to the side, somewhat perplexed. Celestia bobbed her head towards the scrolls in the bookcase, and the unicorn’s eyes widened in understanding. “Who she was? Well...”

“If it’s very private, I won’t intrude,” the princess clarified quickly. “I’m just a bit curious, but... well, sometimes the world can do with a little mystery here and there.”

Twilight hummed in agreement, contemplating what to say. “I was going to, actually,” she confessed. “But as I was writing the letter I realised it didn’t matter. What mattered was how it changed me – it was a crush, but there was a reason for it. I...” She turned her eyes downward, then brought them up to regard Celestia, a bittersweet smile on her face.

“I feel like I wasn’t in love with her because I loved her, but because I wanted somepony to be with. I wanted her to sweep me off my hooves, but in the end, what I actually needed was my friends. It took me a while to realise it, but I already had everything I needed.” Twilight smiled and shrugged. “It probably would have been the same no matter who I had fallen for. Maybe.”

“Are you still in contact with her?” the princess inquired. “I imagine it’s difficult to avoid someone in a small town like Ponyville.”

Twilight scratched her hoof. “Heh, yeah...”

Sensing she was avoiding the topic, Celestia settled on the most appropriate course of action.

She began to tease her.

“Hmm...” she hummed, exaggerating her musing. “Was it Applejack?”

Twilight shrank back. “W-why would you think it was her?” she spluttered.

“Well, you two spend a lot of time together...” Celestia said innocently.

“Well, I spend a lot of time with Rarity too!” the unicorn protested.

Celestia brought her gold-clad hoof down on the ground with a thump. “Aha, so it was Rarity!”

Twilight forced a laugh. “Okay, I’m changing the subject now.”

“Oh, no, this is interesting. Far more interesting than my love life, at any rate.”

“I can count on my hooves the number of ponies I’ve dated in my life, Princess,” Twilight protested. “I think you have me beat. I mean, what would you use to count? Your wings?”

“A lover per feather?” Celestia gasped in mock-exclaimation. “I shudder to imagine what your perception of me is, Twilight Sparkle.”

Twilight grinned, now clearly enjoying the banter. “Well. I have heard the stories...”

Celestia hesitated a moment, her face blank, before she let out a musical laugh. “Oh, stories. Oh my, someponies can just be so silly. I hope you’re not listening.”

“Oh, of course not,” Twilight assured her. “They don’t bother me anymore, but I do get kinda angry when ponies insist it’s true, as if I just hadn’t noticed or anything as your student.”

“I don’t know, Twilight...” The princess propped her chin up with her forearm and smiled all too innocently. “My guards are known for being discreet...”

“... Wha...?” Twilight clearly found it difficult to articulate her thoughts while her jaw was hanging so loose. “I... no.” She shook her head, laughing. “No, no, sorry, that’s too much of a stretch. Guards are for guarding.”

Celestia’s smile remained persistent and unwavering. Her tail flicked.

“Guards are for guarding!” Twilight insisted desperately, stomping her hooves frantically into her cushion.

Celestia held the smile a moment longer before dropping the facade and laughing musically once more. “Yes, you and I know that, but try telling that to the public! Here’s a hint – it’ll be counter-productive. Oh, some of the things I’ve read...”

“You’ve read stories about... that?” Twilight gasped in disbelief.

“Of course,” Celestia said breezily. “I don’t really mind them doing it. It’s a harmless hobby, really, but some take it a bit too far. For instance, this one young lady wrote quite the tale of an alleged ‘Duchess Heavenly’...” She paused and looked around. “Hmm, I don’t have it here. Anyway, I found it rather funny but a few of the faculty found it offensive. There was some minor scandal and she exiled herself from Canterlot for a fresh start.” She tapped a hoof to her chin, considering something. “Oh, by the way, as ruler of Equestria, I decree that you are forbidden from reading the publication in question.”

Twilight scratched her neck, looking anywhere but Celestia. “Actually, now that you mention it... a Duchess, was it?”

Celestia blinked. “You’ve... ah.”

“Yeah...”

They both looked at their empty teacups for several agonising moments, before the princess ventured to break the silence. “Guards are for guarding,” she said firmly.

Twilight stifled a bought of laughter, and began to pour them both a fresh cup of tea. “So, about my old letter, do you really want to know who ‘she’ was, or were you just teasing me?” she asked, willingly pulling the conversation back on topic.

“A little of both,” Celestia admitted.

Twilight smirked, flashing an amused glance at her as she set the teapot back in its place. “It’s ancient history, really. I’m over it.”

“If it really isn’t important, than you don’t have to tell me,” Celestia advised her. “But, at the same time, if it isn’t important anymore, it shouldn’t be a problem for you to tell me.”

“Bit of a conundrum...” Twilight chuckled, swirling her tea with her magic and watching the sugarcube inside the dark tide spin and dissolve. “I guess I should, probably...” she began, but trailed off in contemplation.

A knock on the door made them pause in their conversation. Celestia’s ear flicked as the ‘all’s well’ code registered in her mind. “It seems we have a guest. Enter!”

The door opened and a green unicorn with a yellow-streaked mane walked stiffly into the room. He was young – almost as young as Twilight had been when she moved to Ponyville, and from his posture he was clearly out of his element. His eyes widened and darted between Celestia and Twilight. “Hoo boy..” he muttered under his breath, almost too low for Celestia to hear, before he bowed awkwardly.

“Y-your highness, I wasn’t expecting to meet you as well today,” he said nervously. “I was, um, just supposed to be dropping off a memo...”

Twilight stood up. “Ah, Peppermint, it’s so good to see you! Princess, allow me to introduce you two.” Beckoning to the new unicorn, she said, “This is Peppermint Yam-”

“Jam...” the stallion corrected her quietly.

Twilight flashed him a mortified and apologetic look. “I’m so sorry. This is Peppermint Jam, he’s a grad student assisting the team.” Celestia nodded in understanding. Knowing Twilight, he probably actually did research and information gathering rather than just fetch coffee. Twilight continued, beckoning to the alicorn. “And this, Peppermint, is my teacher, mentor and dear friend, Her Majesty Princess Celestia.”

Peppermint performed the standard reaction. He dropped right down onto the floor in petrified genuflection. “Rise, Peppermint,” Celestia said smoothly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“L-likewise,” he stuttered. Celestia could tell that he was looking not at her face but at a spot just above her crown and twelve degrees clockwise from her horn. Briefly, she wondered why it was that everypony she knew that was nervous in her presence always, without fail, seemed to look at that same exact spot.

“Peppermint, are you looking forward to our first test run today?” Twilight said, prompting him to speak.

He blinked vacantly, before snapping to attention. “Oh, um, yes! I am! Also, I just want to say again that it’s really an honour to be working with you, Miss Sparkle,” the green unicorn practically gushed. “Your thesis on the viability of magical resonance through harmonic factors such as interpersonal relationships is nothing short of revolutionary."

Twilight smiled self-consciously. “Oh, it wasn't all... that's a bit of an exaggeration, isn't it?"

“No way!” he protested. “Heck, it's opened up the applied arcane sciences to earth and pegasus ponies! I’ve got several friends in theoretical arcanics who are finally able to directly test their theories through Sparkle's Law. Everypony’s really excited about it.”

Celestia chuckled in the background as Twilight’s eyebrow rose sceptically. “Is... that what they're calling it? You know it's not actually a ‘law’, right?”

The unicorn chuckled self-consciously. “Well, ‘Twilight Sparkle’s Co-dependent Clause of Harmony’ is a bit of a mouthful in casual conversation...” He coughed into his hoof. “Right. Anyway, I apologize, I'm babbling. Um, regarding that memo, we're all set up and ready whenever you are in Laboratory One at the Academy. You can spend as long as you need examining the set-up, adjusting it as you see fit. If everything is in order, we'll begin the experiment as scheduled at four o clock."

An idea struck Celestia, and she smiled benevolently. “Thank you very much for your efforts, Peppermint. I take it you have high hopes for the experiment?”

“Um, yes, your majesty, very high hopes!” the unicorn squeaked, having trouble speaking when directly addressed by the princess – a rather common ailment among ponies, Celestia found.

“Well now, it sounds so exciting,” she said, bringing a hoof to her mouth to suppress a non-existent gasp of amazement. “I simply must attend as well.”

“That’s a great idea, Princess!” Twilight exclaimed, not noticing Peppermint’s pupils shrink in horror at the prospect. “I can finally show you the ethereal harmonics ritual matrix we’ve developed first-hoof, I know you’re going to love it, it’s the fruit of my studies to this point... Oh!” She snatched the scrap of parchment from the ground and scanned her eyes over the ancient formulae. “Maybe we could even improve it! You’ve given me plenty of ideas on how to make the system more energy-efficient...” Her voice trailed off into excited mumbles as she began to make more notations on the page.

Peppermint stared wide-eyed at her, at a loss for words. Celestia quietly lowered her head until her mouth was level with his ear and whispered, “Quite the sight, isn’t she?”

Peppermint jolted in shock. “I, no! I mean, yes, I, uh!” He covered his face with a hoof. “Oh jeez...”

Celestia decided to take mercy on the poor stallion. “I thank you for your concern, Peppermint, but really, you needn’t worry about offending me,” she said knowingly. “A thousand years as ruler of Equestria tends to give a lady rather thick skin. I appreciate it all the same, you are indeed a gentlecolt.”

“Y-yes your majesty, it’s just...”

“Is something bothering you, Peppermint?” Celestia asked, her face that of kindly concern.

The green unicorn bowed his head. “Sorry, it’s just... um, Lady Sparkle is, like, the pony everyone has their eye on in the Arcane Science community. I mean, look at her.” They shared a look at the mare in question, whose short note was now reaching its third page of excited scribbling. She was beginning to pick apart Celestia’s desk for more parchment.

Peppermint sighed. “That’s just some light notes to her, I bet, but if I were to present those as my thesis I’d be set for life. And plus, she’s the prin- I mean, she’s your protégé. That’s big, I know plenty of ponies who’d do anything to work with her. But I’m still just a grad student. Even though I’m not even qualified she accepted me and a bunch of other students’ applications to work with her. I dunno why she did it, but whatever the reason, this could make my career. I don’t want to flub it by offending either of you.”

Celestia smiled warmly. ‘Such a silly pony.’ “I have seen a great number of things and been called a great number of names in my lifetime,” she chided him lightly. “If you manage to offend me, I’ll consider it an accomplishment, alright?”

Peppermint stared with wide eyes for a moment. “O-okay,” he managed to force out, bowing his head respectfully. “Thank you, your majesty.”

Celestia nodded, acknowledging the thanks. “So, I shall be accompanying Twilight today during the experiments,” she said, bringing things back on topic. “I trust that’s all right?”

Twilight looked up, having only just now come back to reality with a stack of densely packed papers in her magical grip. “Oh! It’s alright if the princess attends, isn’t it?”

Peppermint’s expression was exactly that of a pony shoved suddenly out of the curtains and onto the stage, with a big, bright spotlight illuminating him for everyone to see. “W-why are you asking me?” he said to Twilight. “You’re the boss here.”

Twilight smiled. “I like to consult with the people I work with,” she said, and Celestia recognised her tone as her ‘lecture voice’. “An important part of being a good friend is listening to the opinions of others. Do you have any objections to the princess’ attendance?”

“Oh, of course not, of course not,” Peppermint said quickly. “I’ll just, ah, inform the rest of the team of our esteemed guest, will I?”

Celestia nodded in thanks. “That would be excellent, thank you.”

The stallion quickly swivelled on his own axis and rushed back towards out of the room, his legs trotting stiffly. Celestia shared a glance with the guard at her door, who broke his stoicism for a second to give a bemused shrug before shutting the chamber door once more.

"Looks like you have an admirer," the princess chuckled, nudging Twilight softly in the side with a hoof.

“Yes, everyone in the team seemed to be like that,” Twilight said, not seeing Celestia pout slightly as her teasing went right over the unicorn’s head. “Not everyone seemed to be quite as... starstruck as him, but still...”

Celestia frowned at the tone of her voice. “Is something wrong?”

“No, no! Nothing,” Twilight quickly assured her. "It’s just... I don't really get it. My thesis wasn't anything original, it was just stringing together existing theories into one. It wasn't new, anypony who studied the Elements of Harmony would have been able to figure it out."

"Twilight.” Celestia fixed her with a firm but kind look, one perfected over the years spent as Twilight’s teacher. “I studied the Elements of Harmony for lifetimes, and eventually I conceded defeat. You, on the other hoof, were able to track down an unrealized yet fundamental aspect of magic. Gravity was always there, but it took an apple falling on Ishock Newton for him to realise just how prevalent it was, did it not?”

"But that's because I had your lifetimes of research to build on,” Twilight insisted with a sigh. “Plus, for you the Elements were inert, and you didn't have access to the Element of Magic. The only reason you hadn't already written my thesis for me a dozen times over is because the theories of magic I supplemented my research with were mostly developed within the past four hundred years at the oldest, which is nearly half a millennium after the point where you ceased studies into the Elements.”

She shrugged and looked off to the side. “I’m not doing this for the fame, but even so... Let's be honest, Princess. I'm getting recognition for being in the right place at the right time rather than any real advancements I made.”

The alicorn closed her eyes and shook her head. “I respectfully disagree, Twilight,” she said, bringing her hoof up in an arched motion to demonstrate around them. “Look around you, do you see this room? Do you see the sky, the glass, the stone? ” Celestia firmly stomped her hoof on the ground, three times, to emphasize them. “They are all composed of the same basic building blocks that comprise the rest of the world. What is the difference between the air and water? When you get down to it, very little - both contain oxygen and hydrogen, but it is their interaction each other that defines how they affect us. Two hydrogen and one oxygen together give us water, but with the addition of one more oxygen molecule into the mix, we have air.”

“Rather volatile air...” Twilight mumbled.

Celestia allowed a small grin to grace her mouth for a second before nodding solemnly. “Indeed. This has always been so, a fundamental aspect of the universe that precedes even Luna and I, but it took many, many years for us to discover it, and even more to utilise it.” She lowered her head to be at the same level as Twilight, staring deep into her wavering purple eyes. “And I’ll remind you, dear, that it was not I who did either. It was ponies like you, who watched how the world behaved and learned from the ponies who came before them before eventually teasing out a little piece of the puzzle around them. Twilight, this is an achievement. Don’t ever question that.

“Besides.” Celestia closed the distance between them and nuzzled her clever pony’s cheek. “I daresay you're not finished yet.”

“I’m overreacting again, aren’t I?” Twilight chuckled, blushing at the touch. Celestia pulled back and gave her a knowing grin, prompting the unicorn’s laughter. “Thanks. Thanks for being there for me.”

“Always, Twilight,” Celestia promised lovingly, before rising to her full height. “Now, how about you introduce me to your research team?

Twilight giggled. “Okay, okay. It’s about time you met them anyway. Shall we?”

~{C}~

Celestia slowly drew herself out of the memory. After that point all she could recall was walking down some corridors with Twilight, some slight images of Spike greeting them in a courtyard, and then... not much. Some sensations – the gleam of polished copper, the wet heat of something boiling, the taste of watercress sandwiches... just scattered almost-memories of an idle peace.

Philomena, settled back onto her gilded perch, regarded her with a concerned a red eye. She crooned softly to get her master’s attention, and was calmed as Celestia regarded her with a smile.

Rather than get frustrated over what was lost, she relished what she had regained. Falling back into her plush pillows, she watched Philomena begin to doze and softly smiled to herself, thoughts on her protégé. ‘She still needs me.’ Her heart fluttered as if floating on air at the thought. It was a different kind of need than that of an acolyte training with a master, and Celestia relished it almost greedily.

Something else occurred to her – the memory of Twilight dismissing her achievements, juxtaposed with the image of a unicorn trailing flowers in her wake, searching for her own. ‘Of course,’ she thought to herself, connecting the dots. ‘That's what the dream meant! The fruit was simply the fruit of their research, the research was the pursuit of the flower unique to her, because all the other plants she grew merely represented her thesis, which she was unsatisfied with.’ She quietly laughed to herself again. ‘And she returned... because she wants me to be a part of it all. She still needs me.’

The dream rose to the forefront of her mind, bringing with it a surge of relief. ‘Reassuring her, running with her, guiding her out into the open plains...’ Celestia began to giggle at her own foolishness. ‘In summary, being her mentor.’ She had been getting so worked up over one interpretation of the dream, she had failed to so much as consider another possibility. It was obvious – her memories weren’t gone, they were just difficult to access. Her mind was obviously trying to help her remember, and the book on dreams had said that dream spells are guided by one’s subconscious.

‘Could the entire dream have simply been a metaphor for... yesterday?’ She frowned, the idea seemed unlikely. ‘No, no, it’s simpler. It was to do with Twilight. And I. And Luna.

‘It was my subconscious... my perception of them. Yes.’ She chewed on the inside of her cheek. She had been so frightened of the beast in the thorns, yet her heart had broken to see her hurt. ‘Is it shame I feel? Guilt? There’s a clue in that dream, I’m sure of it.’ Celestia resolved to get a book on dream magic as soon as she could.

There was a quick, rapid knock on her chamber’s door, which gave her pause. She didn’t recognise the pattern. She sat up in bed and locked her gaze firmly on the door; wings loose at her sides, ready to spring into action. However, her precautions proved unnecessary as another knock resounded, properly coded this time, followed by the muffled sound of embarrassed laughter. “Enter!” she called, curious.

The door opened, and for a moment Celestia was back inside the dream.

Twilight strode into the room, a smile on her face, and behind her were flowers, dozens and dozens of them, of all kinds and colours. They hovered around her in a rose-tinted haze of magic, flowing into the room in what seemed like a never-ending march, filling her chambers with their fragrance.

Celestia barely noticed them. They merely graced her peripherals as she stared at Twilight, her heart thudding in her chest. “My goodness...” she breathed. She could almost see the mare from her dream imposed on her protégé.

No. That was the paradox, wasn’t it? Celestia realised she was looking at the mare in her dream.

“They’re pretty, aren’t they?” Twilight asked, smiling proudly as she began to decorate the room with the flowers.

The spell on Celestia, though not broken, loosened somewhat. “Where did all these come from?” she asked, staring in wonder at the sheer number of them.

“They’re Get-Well-Soon bouquets from well wishers,” another voice said, and only now did Celestia notice several unicorn attendants had followed Twilight in, each bearing a sizable amount of flowers in their own magical grips. “They began arriving late last night, and simply haven’t stopped arriving. The Morning Hall is already full to the brim – we’ve started moving them to the ballroom.”

Celestia’s eyes widened in surprise. “It’s full? How many bouquets are there?”

“Probably one from every pony in Canterlot,” Twilight supplied.

The princess took a moment to wrap her head around that. How many ponies had she worried? Still, it warmed her heart that so many were concerned for her wellbeing. That being said, it presented a new problem. “We are long out of vases to put them in water, aren’t we?” she asked one of the servants.

She chuckled, brushing a pink lock of her mane behind her ear. “I’m afraid so, your majesty. But, it is about time for breakfast, so with your permission...”

“Of course, of course,” Celestia said with a laugh. “Be sure to tell everyone to help themselves. And if somepony can bring some of them around to the guards, they would greatly appreciate it.”

The servants bowed in thanks and left the room, closing the door behind them. Twilight was still darting around, trying to arrange the flowers in some order – probably by family, or possibly nutritional value. Celestia felt something tugging at the covers of her bed and looked to the side to see Spike clambering onto it, his arm looped in the handle of a basket full of gemstones. She gave him a smile and nudged a cushion in his direction. “Not going to help us eat all these flowers?” she asked, amused.

“Nah,” he replied, settling appreciatively down on the offered cushion. He snatched up a ruby from the basket, tossed it up and caught it mid-air with his tongue, snapping it into his mouth in a blink of an eye. “I fwah jush going to go to shleep,” he explained as he crunched the jewel. “Buf Twhiligfh shaid –” He paused and swallowed the gem. “Twilight said we should get breakfast first, then I could sleep. Were you worried about me?”

“A little,” Celestia said.

He scratched his ear-scales with a claw. “Why? You’re the one that got hurt.”

Celestia smiled. “Even with this bump on my head, I’m still the princess. It’s my duty to worry about my subjects’ happiness.”

“Who’s worried about who?” Twilight asked, just now joining the conversation. She climbed onto the bed as well and sat between the alicorn and the baby dragon, so that they formed a more or less equal triangle.

“Everyone’s worried about everyone!” Spike said. “Princess Celestia is worried about me, you’re worried about Princess Celestia, and I’m worried about you.”

Twilight’s eyes softened. “Aw, Spike. Why are worried about me?”

He regarded her with a stern, slit eye. “Because you’ve been acting weird...” he said, his hand reaching for another gemstone. “I dunno what’s going on with you lately.”

Twilight paled as Celestia looked over at her. “Oh?” the alicorn asked. “Are you alright?”

The unicorn laughed nervously. “It’s nothing, really. I’m just... I was a bit shaken yesterday, so now I’m just overreacting. As usual.” She stared down at her hooves and focused her attentions on the daffodil bouquet she had selected for herself.

Celestia smiled. She was such a sweet thing, to have worried about her so. She bit a few of the flowers from the bouquet that had found its way before her, and realised it was of poppies – her favourite. Warmth flowed into Celestia’s heart and she savoured it, savoured it along with the taste of the flowers on her tongue and the comforting presence of her dragon and her unicorn.

Circumstances considered, it wasn’t what she would have chosen. Regardless, she had to admit it was not so terrible, to have the attentions of a beautiful mare like Twilight.

The alicorn closed her eyes calmly. ‘Dangerous thoughts, Celestia.’

Still, there was no denying it. She had grown very beautiful. It wasn’t that she looked any different from before – she had grown a little taller, yes, but nothing game-changing, and her mane was cut the same as ever.

However, her every movement echoed her late nights of study, the life-or-death trials she had overcome, her simple joy accrued from the love of her friends... she wore her years as she wore her coat, at long last sure in her step. She didn’t need Celestia anymore. And yet, she still did.

Dream spells... the book said they didn’t force somepony to dream an image. With that in mind, a realisation began to dawn on Celestia. The Twilight she had seen in her dream... the novice, the magician, the pioneer... they were tinted reflections of her perception of Twilight, hoofprints in the sand of her time with the mare. They were, in a single glace, everything the alicorn knew of her, everything she... everything she felt for her.

‘And she was breathtaking...’ she finally confessed to herself. ‘All said and done, I can’t deny that so much of that dream was...’

Celestia opened her eyes and looked out of her window, admiring the play of light through the distant clouds. She could feel something changing, or perhaps she was realizing something had already changed. Today, her sister, Princess of the Moon, had guided the sun. This was a time of revolution, yet not of chaos. Harmony prevailed, though the song of the world seemed to be changing. That was fine – a thousand years of rule had let her see a great many changes in harmony, and she had learned to embrace them, to bask in the melody of change.

With that in mind, it no longer surprised Celestia that Twilight was at the centre of it all. She just hadn’t expected to have the prized seat beside her. She hadn’t expected to want it.

‘This is...’

Something different.

Nothing she needed to act upon, yet nothing she needed to deny either.

‘This is.’

Twilight’s voice drew her attention. “Celestia?” The princess slowly turned her head to see her unicorn surrounded by flowers and looking up at her with a concerned expression on her face. “I think you zoned out again. How do you feel?”

Celestia was still a moment, before smiling, leaning over to nuzzle the unicorn. “Absolutely perfect, my dear,” she murmured. “Absolutely perfect.”

~{C}~

Composure, chapter 4, end.

~{C}~

Chapter 5 - Cathexis

Chapter 5 - Cathexis

Composure

by Varanus

A MLP:FiM fanfiction.

~{C}~

Chapter 5- Cathexis

~{C}~

Content as she was, having breakfast in bed with her protégé and her assistant, it wasn’t long before Celestia had a disconcerting realisation.

“Twilight...” The princess’ eyes narrowed, suspicious. “How many of these flowers are sunflowers?”

"Um...” The unicorn did a quick scan of the room. “About a quarter of them? Maybe a little less?”

Celestia’s ears drooped unenthusiastically. "Oh, that's... sweet of them...”

Twilight chuckled. “You don’t like sunflowers? That’s...”

“Ironic?” Celestia finished for her. “Not really. I don’t dislike them per se, it’s just that being gifted with them got a bit old several centuries ago. It’s a bit thoughtless if it’s from anypony other than a foal.” She twiddled the offending flower between her hooves. “They are beautiful, but such a trial to eat. The petals are a touch too slim to be satisfying, and you can't simply bite into the head or else the seeds will stick to your tongue and parch it.” She gave the offending yellow flower a disapproving glare. “Fussy little things.”

“Is that why the Summer Sun Festival stopped using sunflowers as main flower of the day?” Twilight asked, curious.

Celestia shook her head. “Oh, no, that was because a blight ruined the sunflower crops for two consecutive years. After that, wildflowers became popular, and the sunflower simply faded into the background. I don’t control trends like that nearly as much as some ponies imagine. After all, I’m not the one who is in charge of decorations on festivals.” She gave Twilight a sideways smile. “I make sure ponies who are far more qualified than me handle those things.”

Amusement, with a dash skepticism, lit up in Twilight’s eyes. “Right, and now and again, secretly being an Element of Harmony is part of the criteria, hmm?”

“Well,” Celestia said with a chuckle, ducking low to give the unicorn a mock-sly glance. “That depends on which ancient prophecy is being fulfilled that particular week...”

Twilight chuckled, but Celestia could tell the joke had fallen flat. “So... um, sunflowers, huh?” the unicorn offered, flailing to maintain their chat’s tempo.

“Hmm, yes...” Celestia shifted her jaw in its socket, considering what to say.

However, a knock at the door drew their attention away from conversation. Celestia bid them enter, and her once-quiet chambers became a sudden whirlwind of activity.

First came the nurses, who formed a semi-circle around her bed and began another check up. Celestia took the thermometer in her mouth and waited while they shone lights in her eyes, tugged at her wings, and brushed at her burn. They asked her to rise from her bed and walk for them. She did so with only the slightest of disorientation, although the nurses still jotted ominously on their clipboards.

Then the servants entered, asking if she was still hungry, if she wanted her memos to be held back for the day, and if she wanted her sheets changed. Celestia said no to all counts, and they stood to the side, fidgeting anxiously and finding busywork like straightening her bookshelf and tidying her bouquets and bedside tables.

A guard walked in and stood by the door, clearly keeping an eye on matters. Several maids walked through the doors leading to the private bathroom, and the sound of running water emerged from inside. Releasing a breath, Celestia returned to the bed, the frantic sea of activity parting around her. She saw Twilight give her a concerned glance, and did her best to smile reassuringly.

Celestia could already tell that such smiles were going to quickly strain her today.

So much hustle and bustle, so much fuss. Ponies darted around her room, oh so excited and anxious, and yet there was something strange about the scene, a dissonance that agitated the princess. After several more moments of observing her subjects from the corner of her eye, she realised what it was.

Nopony was looking at her, pointedly so. It wasn’t vanity that drove Celestia’s concern over this, it was the nature of the lack of attention.

Nopony stared. Nopony looked. When they spoke to her, it was quick and to the point, such that they could return to their busywork as soon as possible. They didn’t want to see her... broken.

Celestia felt a wave of guilt. They shouldn’t have had to see her like this, this tarnished vision, this questioning of permanence. Everypony here was so concerned for her, so adoring of her, but it pained them to bear witness to their wounded idol.

As the realisation sunk in, she began to feel annoyed. Her servants, her nurses, and even her guards were all turning a blind eye to what was before them, ignoring her wounds in the fear that their vision of a perfect princess could not withstand a glimpse at a scuffed and sooty reality.

Was it really for her sake at this point? Or were they simply trying to reassure themselves that the status quo remained unbroken? This was the concussion speaking for her, she knew, prodding her into irritability. Releasing a breath, she let slide the fact that nopony wanted to look too closely at her, to admit their princess could bleed...

Except for Twilight, who silently pressed her hoof on top of Celestia’s. Startled by the touch, she looked down at her questioningly, and the unicorn simply smiled reassuringly.

Celestia closed her eyes, letting the irritation slide away. She returned to her peaceful meditation, only now a new focus danced in her mind – the tingling warmth spreading through her arm from Twilight’s touch, a sparking sensation of reassurance and affection. She thought back, back to that dream, back to the realisations it brought about, and...

For a moment, at least...

Almost guiltily...

Relished the touch.

She felt her muscles relax, only then realising just how tense she had become. Basking in the warmth of her unicorn’s attention, she took stock of herself. Worried about the downward spiral of her thoughts, she took a quick moment to acknowledge what she had just felt – it wouldn’t do to unknowingly slip into a bad habit due to the circumstances and repeat it.

She was fine before. She had been comfortable and in the company of loved ones.

Her guard had been down, and she hadn’t expected so many visitors to check up on her, here in her personal, private quarters. ‘So,’ Celestia noted with some relief, ‘a simple matter of a perceived invasion of sanctuary.’ Such a simple little thing, and easy to address.

Her eyes opened. “If you could all lend me your ears a moment...” she spoke, and the room was still. She smiled at her ponies, reassuring them that nothing was amiss. “I trust you are well?”

A pause, and one of the maids, an orange earth pony named Clementine, spoke up. “Quite well, Your Majesty.” The rest of the staff followed her with murmurs of assent.

“Wonderful,” Celestia said genuinely. “I am sorry for the worries all of you must have faced yesterday, and appreciate your concern and dedication this morning. That said...” Her gaze wandered the room, brushing across each of the half-dozen or so ponies in turn as her smile turned wry. “I think my chambers have become a bit crowded in your enthusiasm.”

“No kidding,” she heard Spike whisper, deadpan. By the looks on the staff’s faces, they heard too, so Celestia moved to intercept their pending apologies.

She focused her gaze on two maids, both unicorns. “I think we can leave tidying my suite until it is less crowded. Could you see to it that the bath is prepared?”

The maid bowed. “Absolutely, Your Majesty. Shall we go with your pre-organised schedule for the day? All the specialists are on hoof, as it happens.”

“Indeed? Wonderful!” Celestia gave a slight glance over at Twilight. “Yes, please go ahead with that. After all the stress yesterday it will do us good.”

Twilight frowned in confusion at her use of the word ‘us’ – Celestia had to fight to keep her smile neutral. As the maids bowed and left to arrange her bath, she moved her gaze to the medical staff. “Tell me, is Doctor Ramheart going to attend to me?”

“Yes, we’re just writing your chart...” one of the doctors said.

Celestia nodded. “Best fetch him when you’re done, then. I doubt my case demands so many attendants, though I appreciate your care.”

The medical staff bowed their heads and, taking the hint, exited the room. ‘There, air to breathe,’ Celestia thought, suppressing a sigh. Warmth slipped away from her hock, and she looked to see Twilight shifting in the bed.

“Could I borrow some parchment?” she asked, beckoning over to the small, finely crafted writing desk by the bookshelf. “I need to send a few memos to the rest of the team.”

“By all means, take whatever you need,” Celestia replied. “Going to help survey the laboratory?”

Twilight nodded, levitating over a few sheets of parchment and a quill as she spoke. “I figured I’d just organise efforts today, and leave actual salvage work to the rest of the team. I’ll be back with the data we managed to snatch as we were evacuating; it’s our best shot at figuring what went wrong out. I can just compile it here in the castle though, so I won’t be gone for long.”

“That’s good,” Celestia said, relieved. She gave Twilight a cheerful look of encouragement. “We’ll solve this mystery quickly, and afterwards still have plenty of time to spend together. Sound like a plan?”

Twilight’s even expression caved into a bashful smile. “Yes, that sounds... just perfect.”

Celestia was taken by a sudden urge to draw her former student into a hug, something she knew was probably just an echo of her earlier feelings of vulnerability. Though, perhaps it was more than just that. The prospect of spending some proper time with her former student filled her with a giddy sort of excitement, a strange thrill at the promise of things returning to normal in spite of the previous day’s worries.

‘Not entirely normal...’ her heart reminded her. Celestia bit the inside of her cheek and regarded Twilight as the mare in question wrote carefully on the borrowed parchment.

Celestia’s eyes traced Twilight’s jawline, down to the curve of her neck. Her posture was relaxed yet alert, radiating unconscious confidence, something Celestia could tell would bleed into her work. Though it was a mere memo, Twilight treated it with as much care and focus as a sensitive missive, picking her words to be as precise and efficient as possible.

Still, before she could so much as twitch a wing, a nurse approached, asking the princess to move closer to the edge of the bed.

Twilight followed, scooting over to see as the medical unicorn carefully undid the bandage around Celestia’s head. Not once did the nurse’s eyes meet Celestia’s, but this no longer concerned her. A pale blue haze of magic dropped over the princess’ vision, who waited patiently as the gauze unravelled, her eyes wandering over to Twilight, perched before her. Her faithful protégé smiled reassuringly back at her – but that smile was wiped away just as the nurse hissed sharply at what was revealed when the bandage fell away.

Unprepared, Celestia’s head was pushed backwards slightly as the nurse pressed the bandage firmly back onto her forehead. “You,” she ordered Twilight quickly. “Keep pressure applied, I’ll get fresh bandages and tape.”

Twilight nodded, and the blue haze before Celestia’s eyes became deep rose. “Has my cut re-opened?” she asked. Twilight nodded, deep in concentration, so Celestia took the opportunity to study her unicorn’s features carefully. Under her gaze, Twilight chewed on the corner of her mouth, her horn’s glowing pulsed just a touch more erratically than usual, and her gaze was focused with iron resolve on a spot just below the alicorn’s horn. It was clear she was anxious and hiding upset – how terrible could this wound be to warrant such a reaction?

Remembering the old love poems, Celestia tried to examine her reflection in Twilight’s eyes. They shone, bright and sparkling, but that was more likely due to the light of the magical auras from their foreheads than anything poetic. Celestia decided to count it as yet another mark against the so-called ‘masters’, and smiled at the silly thought.

Twilight’s eyes darted down, noticing the smile, and for an instant their eyes met. The unicorn’s focus quickly darted back to the bandages, pressing down just a bit harder as she redoubled her attention to the wound. However, that sent a jolt of pain through Celestia’s forehead, which she tried to hide with a slow intake of breath. Twilight, of course, noticed and brought her eyes back down, and then their gazes were joined once more, this time locked together.

A sly, guilty part of her heart savoured that tiny moment. ‘The masters are redeemed.’

“Is it bad?” Celestia whispered, or at least, intended to whisper. It sounded far too breathy to her ears for comfort.

“It’s okay...” Twilight replied, her voice similarly hushed. Celestia had to strain over the noise of the hustle and bustle in the room to catch it.

“Are you alright?”

“You don’t need to keep asking me that,” Twilight said with an exasperated smile.

“I know. Still, are you alright?”

The moment was broken by the fiend, Doctor Ramheart. Twilight pulled away, startled, as he leaned in and fixed Celestia with a fierce glare, which left the princess entirely unaffected. “You’ve been using magic, haven’t you,” he asked without questioning.

“Much to my regret,” she replied. “It seems habits built over the course of millennia are difficult to buck.”

The old doctor scoffed and stepped abruptly between her and Twilight and reared up on his hind legs. With several deft movements of his hooves, he snatched levitating strips of gauze and medical tape from the air and re-bandaged Celestia’s forehead, with speed and grace more often associated more with the conductor of an orchestra than anypony from the medical profession.

“Be careful with that cut,” he said, stepping back with an uninterested expression as if bandaging the immortal princess of Equestria was a routine task. “Don’t think that by being an alicorn you don’t need time to heal. It’s held together by surgical tape and faithless prayer, and since it’s so close to your horn, magic will most likely aggravate it. We tried to give you a few stitches, but...” He glanced over at the nurse, who held up several badly-bent surgical needles, a helpless look on her face.

"I'll be good," Celestia promised sweetly.

Ramheart grumbled in response, turning his eye over to Twilight. “Princess Luna tells me you’re supposed to be monitoring her?”

“Um, yes,” Twilight replied with a nod, somewhat startled to be addressed so suddenly. “I mean, I’ll have to step out for a few hours to take care of some—”

“Yes, yes.” The old stallion waved away her response, uninterested. “That’s fine as long as she promises to rest during that time. Plenty of bed rest and fluids for the concussion. Ointment for the burn - it’s on the table over there - and make sure she doesn’t even use a spark of magic or she might open the laceration on her forehead. Am I going to have to write this down?”

“I’ll be fine, Ramheart,” Celestia interjected with a light laugh. “Don’t worry. I’m in capable hooves.”

The doctor nodded slowly. “Alright then. Call a nurse if anything comes up.” With that as his sole farewell, he turned and trotted out of Celestia’s chambers, leaving his harried staff to scramble for their equipment and follow.

The doors shut soundly, and they were alone again. “Now then,” Celestia said brightly, “You mentioned laboratory work?”

Twilight nodded. “Could I borrow some more parchment?”

Celestia gave a single nod in understanding. “Of course. My writing desk is yours to plunder.”

Twilight gave her a small grin and hopped off the bed, trotting over to the desk. Celestia kept her eye on the bookish unicorn as her purple horn lit up and carefully pulled a leaf of parchment from its nook, placing it gently on the surface of the table.

It was only when the scratching of the quill on parchment began in earnest that Celestia realised she was staring.

She turned away, chastising herself. ‘These building… feelings, honestly. What are they making me? It’s one thing to quietly treasure her, but it’s entirely different to act so…’ Words trailed in her mind. Foalish. Needy. Young. In the end she discarded the line of thought and rose from the bed, carefully making her way over to her mirror on still unsteady hooves. ‘Heavens, my bones ache… this bath cannot come soon enough…’ Every inch of her felt weary all of a sudden as her body protested its rough treatment the day before. She carefully flexed the wing over her burnt side, rotating it in its socket and sighing contentedly at the relief the action brought.

When she turned her attention back to the mirror before her, she caught Twilight’s head jerkily turning back to her parchment.

The princess smiled at her unicorn’s concern, and a new idea began to tease at her mind. “Twilight, what time are you meeting the team today?”

“As soon as possible,” the mare replied, chuckling ominously lightly, portending panic in the near future should her timetable be thrown off even further. “We’ve got simply too much to do, look!” Her parchment floated up in the air, and it was no surprise to see it packed densely with notes and itemised, indexed tables.

“Weren’t you writing a letter?” Spike asked from his spot on the bed.

Twilight nodded. “Yes, I was, until I started considering the workload we have today. It’s all well and good to say ‘salvage the experiment’, but we’ll probably have to hire a building crew to help shift the wreckage, then we’ll have to test the analytical machines, see if they saved any data and if they did, I need to crunch it and that’s going to take days…” The quill began scratching the parchment again in vicious earnest.

Celestia tapped her hoof to her chin. “When were you originally going to meet the team today?”

The unicorn’s frantic scribbles ceased. “Noon. We had arranged that, because…

“Because I wanted some time with you before Day Court. I remember that, of course,” Celestia finished for her. The timetable had been planned a month in advance by none other than Twilight herself, of course. Was it any wonder she was becoming high strung again? “I wonder if the timetable really needs to change. I remember it – noon: study the results of the experiment. Well, you got clear results, you can’t deny that.”

“The result was everything exploded,” Twilight said, a note of bitterness creeping into her voice.

“Nevertheless, a result,” Celestia replied. “If you think about it that way, nothing has actually changed.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow, spotting the princess’ strategy but unsure of its form. “Are you trying to get me to put off my work?”

“Perish the thought you take a break, especially after yesterday’s excitement,” Celestia said with an amused snort. She tilted her head and smiled sweetly, edging on imploring. “Come now, the schedule needn’t change. They’ll thank you to wait until noon, if only for the extra time they’ll have to get things together.”

Twilight slowly set the parchment down. “Well… okay. That does sound reasonable. What did you have in mind?”

Celestia pushed the doors of her chambers open, smiling slyly. “That, my dear, is a surprise.”

~{C}~

Trotting side by side, Twilight and Celestia made their way through the twisting hallway of the private tower. They paused only to flag down a butler so Twilight could pass a letter on to her team containing instructions to meet at the laboratory at noon, no change in schedule. Then the two mares were on their way again, their steps lighter than before.

Twilight found herself stealing glances at the princess beside her, both to check how steady her stride was as well as… Twilight suppressed a sigh and tried not to chide herself. The buzzing sensation in her gut and the quickened pace of her heart were sign enough that the cold bath from earlier had done little to defeat the return of her crush. She knew it was a silly thing to be moved past as soon as possible, but identifying the problem didn’t make it any less of a problem, especially when that problem was constantly being compounded on by the object of her aggravating affections.

Celestia had a surprise planned. For them. Privately. Together.

The thought alone made Twilight nervous – between them, a surprise was a surprise in of itself. Generally their get-togethers were jointly organised well in advance, be it one of their research meetings, a newly opening concert or such, or simply a social gathering of the Canterlot elite where Celestia wanted an intelligent conversation for a change. Whenever Celestia asked simply for ‘some time’, they’d share tea and chat, or tour the gardens. As much as Celestia liked to tease, she’d rarely try to outright surprise the meticulous unicorn.

This was new. Unusually casual. Close.

‘Still, no reason I can’t enjoy it, right?’ Twilight’s hopeful heart reasoned.

‘As a friend,’ her rational mind insisted wearily, having heard the argument before.

Twilight stole another glance at her mentor, and her heart fluttered for the right reasons. ‘Friends…’ she thought with a faint smile. Not for the first time, she began to wonder what she had done to deserve the privilege. She knew that her achievements were only ever possible because she was standing on a giant’s shoulders – perhaps that was why she had the giant’s ear? Whatever the reason, she wasn’t going to lose her rare footing because of something as silly and transient as a crush.

Her mind made up, she stood a little straighter and gave Celestia a sideways smile. “So, do I get a hint about this surprise?”

Celestia grinned. “You would have, had you asked sooner. Now you’ll have to wait, because we’re almost…” She looked ahead, to where the corridor ended at an oak doorway. “…here.”

Twilight pushed the doors open and was hit by light and air all around her. They emerged out into the pale morning sunlight on a broad bridge of rough but well-carved stone. Just ahead loomed the elegant form of Canterlot Keep proper, its marble walls and golden domes seeming to glow in the light, but as lovely as that sight was, it paled in comparison to what stretched out below to the south. All of Equestria lay before Twilight, framed by the glowing castle structures like a landscape painting, a peaceful and sleepy scene sparkling in the morning dew.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Celestia asked softly, admiring the view beside the awestruck unicorn. Her wings were slightly extended to catch the cool wind whistling through the cranny the bridge formed between castle and tower. “I like this spot especially. My chambers have a far better view of the whole of Equestria, but here… the sound, the softness of the light bouncing off the marble, the cool breeze funnelled through the space, the suddenness of going from a luxurious tower to hovering above Equestria… you cross this bridge in a mere moment, but oh, what a moment it is. One of my few regrets is not getting to know the architects better – they understood, a little, I think.”

“Understood what?” Twilight asked, still gazing out at the world.

“Think on it a little,” Celestia said teasingly, before flapping her wings and alighting onto the bridge’s low wall.

Twilight pulled her eyes from the landscape to eye Celestia nervously. “Careful, you might –”

“Fall?” Celestia smiled. “Tragic indeed is the pegasus who can’t so much as glide when they lose a few loose feathers.”

Her face was… not sad, but strained, and Twilight’s worries surged in step with her sympathy for her mentor. Back in the bedroom, when the servants were bustling about, Twilight had seen Celestia grow more and more… upset. It was happening again here, and Twilight didn’t know what to say, what to do. A gentle hoof was enough to bring her out of it before, but…

Apparently, this time Twilight’s mere expression was enough to draw the princess from her mood. “Am I worrying you? Forgive me.”

“Don’t…” Twilight began, before pausing. “You are, a little,” she admitted, her quiet voice barely carrying over the whistling breeze. “Princess, what’s wrong?”

The princess let out a sigh and took a tottering step along the bridge’s balustrade. “Trivial things, Twilight. My servants seemed like strangers this morning. Most of them were only reassuring themselves that I was alright.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Twilight asked. “Everypony cares about you.”

Celestia responded with a noncommittal hum, standing stock still on her narrow perch. “And yet they seem like strangers. The problem is with me, though, I wasn’t ready.”

“Meaning…?”

“My wings and my coat. I look a state, don’t I?” She looked somewhat sheepishly at Twilight, as if for confirmation, but found no consensus – Celestia was as achingly beautiful as ever to the unicorn. Twilight felt a thrill of panic and excitement in her chest as Celestia favoured her with a knowing smile.

“You’re very sweet,” she chuckled, her voice carrying clear relief. “It’s in my mind, I know. I look a state and I feel a state… and I could moan about it, bore you with my tiny, temporary little frustrations…” Her wings spread, and she turned her face to the open air. “Or I could fly.”

Alarm bells blared in the faithful unicorn’s mind. “What, here?”

“It’s a good spot,” Celestia mused aloud. “Nice updraft, perfect for coasting…”

“I don’t want you throwing yourself off this bridge,” Twilight said in a wobbly voice.

Celestia returned her attention to Twilight, her face guilty, longing and startlingly open. Her wings twitched a little wider, and behind her Equestria seemed to sing. “I’m fine. Besides, even if I couldn’t glide, you’d catch me, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course I would.” Twilight felt a blush begin to rise. “That doesn’t mean I want you to!” she added sternly, though to her ears it sounded pitifully close to a whine.

“Then thank you,” Celestia said gratefully. “And I apologise. Sometimes, Twilight, we just have to let ourselves…”

Twilight shifted uncomfortably as her princess drifted off into silence. “Celestia, can we just–”

Before she could even finish, Celestia teetered forward and fell. Twilight yelped in panic as the princess disappeared from view and quickly searched her surroundings for a ledge or some sort of vantage point. Spotting one of the cantilevering pools hanging a few floors down, her horn flared and she teleported there in a snap of magic.

Her hooves wading in the cool water, she looked back up and scanned the skies for the plummeting alicorn, and her heart soared in relief to see her floating softly through the air on billowing wings. Celestia met her relieved expression with a lazy, apologetic look of her own and tilted her wings to glide, smooth and steady, towards the pool.

Twilight flinched as Celestia swept over her and turned to see the princess drift over the pond, leaving a trail of ripples where her hooves touched the surface of the water. It would have been an entrancing sight had Twilight’s heart not been beating a mile a minute. Without even a shadow of the princess’ grace, Twilight splashed her way over to Celestia, her eyes still wide with shock.

“See? I can glide at least,” Celestia said, her voice light as she waved one of the feathery appendages in question.

“I don’t care,” Twilight managed to wheeze out in a desperate breath. “Y-you just…”

Silence rose like great mountains between them. Twilight stared down into the rippling water of the pool, refusing to look up and confirm the distance between them. She didn’t cry, but the water splashed onto her face did its utmost to act in place of tears, falling in little drips between them.

Out of reflex, she began to blame herself. She should have known, she had to have known. So why did she feel betrayed, almost?

Was it the crush? Was it simply the cherished friendship? Was it both, making her presume things of her mentor? ‘Alicorn’ was simply a catch-all term for the synergy of earth, unicorn and pegasus pony. Could it be that all Twilight knew was the unicorn, deep and mysterious and wise, always there, always stable? Of course, of course Celestia was a pegasus, but all they ever spoke of between them was magic. Twilight took it for granted, forgetting those wings at her side, strong enough to carry the world, swift enough to…

Withering heat on her coat, smothering smoke in her lungs, and there she was, in a pool of her own blood.

…To hop off her ivory pedestal and leave the selfish little unicorn behind.

“I’m sorry,” Celestia said, her voice edged with soft remorse.

Twilight struggled against the need to instantly forgive her, winding her fears together into a lifebuoy. “You should be,” she said firmly, finding refuge in the reassuring familiarity of a stern lecturing. She kept her head down, however, to avoid seeing the lecture’s recipient and having the whole illusion fall apart. Her composure was threatening to crumple regardless. “That was irresponsible. You’ve only just begun your recovery, what if you couldn’t fly?”

The reply was swift and gentle, without forethought. “You’d have caught me.”

“What if I couldn’t? What if I couldn’t have followed you, d-down here?” Twilight asked, hastily adding the last part a moment later than natural.

“Then I wouldn’t have jumped at all.” The princess’ voice was lighter now, her familiar confidence restored. Twilight bit her lip self-consciously – damn it all, she understood already.

“Twilight, look at me please?” Celestia asked, softly bringing a white hoof to the upset unicorn’s cheek. Water dripped down Twilight’s chin as she glanced, frustrated, off to the side for an instant before reluctantly complying. Her reward was Celestia’s grateful smile and a soft reassurance. “I’m not going to fly anywhere you can’t accompany me. Alright?”

It wasn’t fair. Everything in her told her to nod, to smile and agree with her beloved princess. Her confused heart spun in joy at the attention, but… Twilight wasn’t willing to give up her frustrations without a fight. She wasn’t a foal anymore to be humoured and indulged. “It’s not alright.”

Celestia stilled – a shallow breath drawn into a rising chest, and then she was a statue.

“I just…” Twilight brought a hoof to her face, rubbing cool, clean water into her brow. “I just don’t think it’s fair of you to test me like this, especially now.”

“Twilight, tests never end.” Celestia paused and shook her head. “That’s not to say I was testing you, though. I was testing myself.”

Twilight felt a wave of shame for not considering this as the princess went on. “Truth be told, I’m agitated,” Celestia confessed. “I can’t cast magic at the moment. I can’t raise or set the sun. I didn’t realise how much I defined myself on those tasks, and for those to be closed off… I needed to know that if I couldn’t dip into the tides of magic as a unicorn, I could still feel the breeze through my feathers. It’s calming, for a pegasus.”

“And if you couldn’t fly?” Twilight frowned.

Celestia’s jaw shifted, clearly unenthusiastic about that scenario. “Then I’d go to the gardens and kick off my shoes. Feel the dirt beneath my hooves as anypony might and take in the scent of flowers and earth. Perhaps take a nap, or have a snack or two.” Her expression grew lighter at the thought. “I may still do that, as a matter of fact. But for now, I needed to know my boundaries.” She cocked her head and regarded Twilight with a sad smile. “Can you forgive me, this once?”

Twilight laughed tiredly, letting her protective fears simply drop from her shoulders. For now, she was satisfied. “Alright, just…” She lifted a hoof from the water and lightly poked Celestia’s chest with it. “Just, you know, heed those boundaries, if you’re going to scare me like that testing them.”

“You have my word,” Celestia said with a smile, bringing her hoof over her heart. “Now come on, that wasn’t the surprise.”

“I think it was surprise enough!” Twilight laughed, following Celestia as she waded through the pool. It seemed to get deeper the closer to the centre one got, so the two walked along the outer, shallowest curve as they made their way back to the castle. Twilight spared one last glance at the green landscape of Equestria before she passed under the tall, slender arches of castle and found herself in an unfamiliar, airy chamber tiled with warm brown stone. A cascading waterfall dominated the chamber, which fed into a large pool that in turn fed the stream of water that led into the large, cantilevering pool the two mares had landed in.

A beautiful mosaic decorated the domed ceiling, depicting ponies of all three tribes dancing and eating fruit in the midst of some sort of celebration. In the centre of it all were the horned and winged figures of the ancient alicorns, their colouring decidedly not that of Celestia and Luna. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in this part of the palace before…” Twilight said under her breath, looking around the room in amazement.

Celestia giggled beside her. “I should think not. This is my bathroom, after all. Highly private.”

Twilight whirled her head around to stare at Celestia. “This is your bathroom?”

“Oh, my, yes.” Celestia nodded, pleased at her protégé’s reaction. “It’s a later addition to the palace, as it happens. Gifted to me by a guild of pony, gryphon and minotaur artisans in thanks for resolving a trade embargo with the gryphons… hmm, four centuries past?” She smiled and nodded towards two low stone altars beside the waterfall pool, both the perfect size for an alicorn to lounge on. “They were very confused as to why I wanted double of everything, as well as a neutral colour scheme, but the look on Luna’s face when I showed her this chamber was worth it.” Her smile became a little wistful, as it was wont to when the subject of her sister’s banishment loomed over the conversation, but she shrugged it effortlessly away. “Anyway,” she continued, trotting up the steps out of the pool. “This is the surprise.”

“You’re giving me a tour of your bathroom?” Twilight asked, following her mentor with a wry smile across her face.

Celestia gave her an amused look. “Something like that. It’s… well, this chamber serves well as a personal spa from time to time, so…”

Twilight’s brows shot up once more in surprise. “You’ve got a spa?”

Celestia chuckled. “There are some benefits to being the princess, I’ll have you know. Go ahead and take a seat on the slab to the left there, please.”

Twilight obediently hopped onto the smooth stone bed, resting atop a gold cushion. “So… spa day. Morning. Alright.” She often took time out to relax at the spa with her friends in Ponyville, why not Celestia? Especially when the princess looked at her with a hint of unhidden glee at the prospect.

“Indeed,” Celestia went on. “I arranged this little treat as, hmm, a way for us to relax after the experiment.”

Twilight spotted the slip. Clearly, this surprise was meant to have been a celebration of a job well done, but considering the circumstances… “You sure?”

Celestia seemed to pick up on the faithful unicorn’s doubt. “Even though things didn’t go to plan, I see no reason to change schedule,” she reasoned, before smiling reassuringly. “Besides, I think we’re both in dire need of a bit of pampering. Now!” She perked up before Twilight could find another way to be morose and began trotting towards the chamber doors. “The most important thing, at this moment, is to try to look innocent when I open the door.”

Twilight’s ears perked up. “Hmm? Wait, are you pulling a prank on someone who isn’t me for once?”

Celestia chuckled lightly as she trotted over to the doors. “Don’t worry, my dear, you remain my favourite. Now…” she hooked her hoof around the handle of the door and peered around the corner, her face effected with a look of innocent surprise. “My! I was wondering where you all were! How long have you been waiting there for me?”

Gasp of shock and apology clamoured out from the hallway, and Twilight had to bite her lip to contain her laughter as Celestia stepped aside to allow a line of half a dozen abashed and confused servants into the chamber. Celestia smiled reverently through it all, waving away their apologies with understanding nods and a constant insistence of ‘no, no, I’m to blame, really’. It was the strangest thing for Twilight to observe, like watching a play from backstage.

One attendant, a pegasus who wasn’t clad in a maid’s uniform, peered suspiciously at her monarch. “I see your wings are working, then?” she asked, sounding familiar with the trick.

Celestia’s smile grew even more innocent. “Well enough, Summer Shower, but Twilight’s are still giving her trouble.” Twilight waved to the pegasus for emphasis, sharing a silent giggle with Celestia as a confused look painted the attendant’s features.

Another uniform-less attendant perked up at the mention of Twilight’s name. “Oh? So this is your infamous student?”

“The very same.” Celestia nodded gravely, before shooting Twilight a teasing look.

Twilight chuckled nervously. “My reputation precedes me,” she joked, managing to parry her mentor’s comment.

Celestia grinned, pleased, and made her way past the maids to sit on the altar beside Twilight’s. She was quickly surrounded by a hooffull of pegasi maids, seeking instruction. Twilight caught the tail end of a few quiet words which sent them flying up to the mouth of the chamber’s waterfall. With practiced movements, they manipulated some unseen mechanism, causing the flow of water to lessen from a deluge to a more gentle flow, which was accompanied by a rising haze of steam after a few more moments.

“That’s quite extravagant,” Twilight complemented Celestia, watching as the pegasi began slotting wicker baskets packed with herbs in the path of the water.

“Like a giant teapot, isn’t it?”

“Um, yes, uh…” Twilight floundered as she realised she had no idea of the attendant’s name.

“Steamy,” the unicorn provided. “It was a bit more fitting before I went grey,” she admitted with a grin, before looking back at the bath. “It certainly is a marvellous piece of craftsmanship. A bit unwieldy, though, I couldn’t imagine running a business with one of these. It’s a very old way of doing things, but the princess loves her traditions.”

“What is tradition for you is habit for an old nag like me,” Celestia said lightly, speaking over the heads of the maids around her.

The old unicorn’s ears dropped as she smiled apologetically. “Of course, Your Majesty. I was only musing aloud how a few tweaks could make the whole set-up far more flexible.”

Celestia’s grin became wry as she gave Twilight a look of exaggerated weariness. “Mrs Steamy takes every opportunity to criticise my little haven here. Don’t you mind her.”

“I suppose, since this is a private spa…” Steamy grumbled, her argument trailing off into nothing. Her faintly amused smile hinted that this was only the latest in a history of defeats.

Twilight saw an earth pony, similarly dressed as Steamy, approach Celestia. “Princess, the water is ready.”

“Thank you, Buttergold.” Celestia rose and stepped off the altar, the maids to either side of her moving to give her room. Twilight took the opportunity and basked in the sight of her princess’ simple elegance, eager for another small token of familiarity.

Only… something didn’t sync up, and it took a second for Twilight to realise what it was. Her head was held high and her gait was easy, but her wings were clamped hard against her sides, like Fluttershy’s would lock into when the timid girl was frightened or anxious. Beneath the shroud of feathers, Twilight could almost see the edge of that angry burn lurking on Celestia’s side, which flexed like a cat’s claw over her skin as she made her way to the steaming herbal bath.

Twilight bit her lip, worried. There were so many attendants here, more than one pony needed, and Celestia had said that they were making her self-conscious… was it even possible for her to relax here, after all that had –

Twilight’s rambling worries were silenced by a moan from their locus. “Oh, the water is perfect, thank you,” Celestia sighed as she sunk gratefully into the bath. The attendants bowed respectfully, and Twilight’s lip found itself being ground into mush between her teeth.

‘Oh dear…’ Twilight looked anywhere but at the princess as she lowered herself fully into the pool, the hair of her mane and tail spilling out around her like clouds in the evening sky. Twilight was sure her blush was a sight to see, but fortunately she could blame it on the ever-increasing temperature of the room and not the drawn-out, delighted sighs of her princess as she arched her body, letting the warm water soak into her radiant coat –

‘Ahem. Well,’ Twilight wrangled her thoughts back to sanity. ‘Good to see Celestia isn’t letting her injury get to her…’ The thought made her pause. ‘Injury? Oh!’ She jolted out of her musings and hopped off the bed, quickly trotting over to the pool.

Celestia spotted her and floated in her direction, beaming up at her with a relaxed smile. “Something the matter?” she asked, arching her head to better see her faithful unicorn.

“Yes, um...” Twilight pointed a hoof to Celestia’s forehead. “Your forehead – you don’t want that bandage to get wet.”

Celestia’s eyes widened. “Oh, my, you’re right. I had completely forgotten about it.” Her expression shifted into a slight pout. “Should I get out?”

“No, just let me…” Twilight scrunched her face up in concentration as her horn glowed, weaving a spell. She crouched down and carefully brushed the bandage with her horn as she released the magic, letting it all flow into the gauze.

Opening her eyes, Celestia filled her vision. “Did it work?” she inquired, her voice hushed as if a secret were being shared between them.

“I think so.” Twilight scooped up a small sphere of water with her magic and, carefully, pressed it into the side of the princess’ face, over an inconspicuous portion of the bandage, away from her wound. Celestia reflexively shut her eyes, unresisting, as the water magically roamed over the white cloth. The glow of Twilight’s horn faded, and the water fell back into the bath with a splash, followed by several hasty droplets of water from the side of the princess’ face.

“Okay, I’m pretty sure it’s water-repellent now, so don’t worry about water getting in under it.” She paused. “Oh, and sorry about the water, that was –”

“Surprisingly refreshing,” Celestia cut in with a grin. “I’ll have to remember that.”

Bashful, Twilight glanced around, surprised to see most of the maids had left – only the unicorn, Steamy, the pegasus named Summer Shower and that earth pony by the name of Buttergold remained. They bowed slightly. “Just give us a call when you’re ready, Your Majesty,” Steamy said, before they filed out of the room.

Twilight gave the princess an inquisitive look, to which the alicorn smiled in reply. “Those three are specialists who run a rather high-end spa down in Canterlot town. The rest were just maids helping set things up,” Celestia explained in that hidden, hushed voice of hers.

“Oh, okay, that’s good.” Twilight nodded and looked down at Celestia knowingly. “I’m guessing you don’t want everypony to hang around right now either?”

“Everypony appreciates a bit of privacy now and then. Are you coming in?”

Twilight froze. “Pardon?”

“Twilight, it’s a spa,” Celestia said in a half-laugh, her voice an amused mix between fond and exasperated.

The gears in Twilight’s mind tried valiantly to resume turning, but kept getting jarred on the words Celestia, bath, together, BAD IDEA. “Oh, this is – um, wow, this is lovely, but I really shouldn’t…” ‘For too many reasons,’ her mind groaned.

“Oh please do,” Celestia insisted. “Normally it’s only Luna who I spend time with here.”

“I… I already took a bath this morning, I’m afraid! I know this isn’t the exact same thing, but…”

“Twilight,” the princess sighed. “Please. You’ve been under enough stress with the experiment. Now, with the accident and your concern over my own well being, not to mention how erratic I’ve been with you…” She trailed off, rolling her jaw in her mouth in contemplation. “This will do you a world of good, trust me.”

‘Trust me’. Celestia was playing dirty now, and Twilight knew the princess was aware of that. But –

She was over-thinking things, as usual. ‘I wouldn’t even be worrying about this if it weren’t for the accident,’ Twilight reasoned. ‘If everything was normal, I’d be happy to. Because we’re… friends, and I cherish that privilege. I’ve never had a problem going to the spa with Rarity, or Rainbow, or anypony else – this is something friends do.’

“Alright,” Twilight said with a nod and an apologetic grin, stepping forward. Celestia swam back a few paces to make room for the hesitant unicorn, her smile strong once again. Trying not to focus on the goddess floating, inviting, before her, Twilight took that last step forward into the pool.

Her hoof lingered over the surface of the rippling water a moment before dipping in. To her pleasant surprise, the water was a perfect temperature, the type of temperature other temperatures would sing songs and write odes of in reverence. Twilight let out an involuntary sigh, before blushing as she caught Celestia’s smug look. Steeling herself, she began to walk down the Rubicon steps, the steam dampening her coat with its hot, fragrant touch.

‘Bad idea,’ her mind warned her forlornly. ‘This is a bad idea. The worst. A terrible idea, a terribly bad, bad idea, bad idea bad idea bad –‘

The warmth of the bath enveloped her legs, soothing her joints and almost instantly reducing them to jelly. Limbs weak, she sunk into the bath fully – and moaned as her mind registered only the pleasure of the water. ‘Oh sweet heavens, incredibly good idea! The best idea!’

“Oh Celestia this is incredible…” Twilight managed to groan, half to the princess in question, half as a reverent oath.

“Isn’t it?”

“This can’t be natural. It can’t.”

“And yet, it is.

Twilight sunk deep, submerging her entire form to the point that all that remained of her was her snout, poking above the surface of the water. “I never want to leeeeave…”

Celestia giggled. “There isn’t another bath like this in all of Equestria,” she boasted. “Fed by underground hot springs that bubble through the gem strati below the city. Even without the herbs the waters are incredibly revitalising. Luna swears that the waters are magical, but I think she was just being poetic.”

Struck by that thought, Twilight pulled her head out of the blissfully warm water. “Well, if it runs through gems, it might be a bit magical…” she mused. Her chin was bobbing barely an inch above the water, so she opened her mouth to take a sip. “Hmm… tastes like twigs…” she appraised, slightly disappointed.

“Not exactly balanced for flavour,” Celestia chuckled. “It’s like honey for dragons, though. Before Canterlot was even built, I stumbled across a dragon who made her lair in the caves below for that express reason.”

“A dragon in the mines?” Twilight slumped against the wall of the pool, watching with curiosity as Celestia cast her mind back to ancient times.

“Hmm, in the gem strata, at least,” the princess nodded, scouring her memory as Twilight would scour an encyclopaedia. “The mines are a more recent invasion… oh, I believe it’s been eighty years or so since I shut them down and closed them off?” She shook her head in exasperation, a dark scowl painting her face. “I was not pleased to find them. Can you imagine? They were literally undermining the integrity and foundations upon which Canterlot was built.”

“Never a dull moment in the life of Canterot royalty, huh?” Twilight smiled sympathetically and shifted her body into a more comfortable position.

“No shortage of exasperating ones.” Celestia let out a sigh and sank into the warm waters. Twilight felt her blush rise as the princess’ eyes fluttered open and turned to her. “As for the dragon, I suspect she could have been some relation to Spike, but I could never confirm it.”

“Migrated?”

“Passed,” Celestia said sadly. “Still, like all friends it was a boon to know her – not in the least because it was the first evidence that dragons were more than beasts, and that diplomacy was possible.” Her mouth twisted into a wry grin, and she gave Twilight a playful look. “Would you like a tip?”

“Bribe them with gems?” Twilight chuckled, thinking of her own draconic friend.

Celestia laughed. “Bribe them with gems.” She nodded in agreement. “Of course you know that. I daresay you’re among Equestria’s leading dragon experts at this stage.”

They laughed lightly together, before letting it subside into comfortable silence. After a moment, Celestia turned her head and stared off out the archways, looking over at the horizon. Twilight followed her gaze for a moment, looking at the distant green and greys of Equestria, before returning to regard her princess. “I’m sure she was… very happy to have known you,” Twilight murmured. Her princess’ ear flicked, signalling silently that she heard the words even if she didn’t react.

Twilight found herself floating, gliding smoothly towards Celestia, coming to rest mere inches away. It was all her courage would allow her, but even that short distance filled Twilight with electricity. “I know that I…”

Celestia’s form shifted, and suddenly the heat of the water became lukewarm in comparison to the delirious warmth spreading through Twilight’s body as she felt her princess’ coat press against hers. A wave of water surged around the unicorn’s neck as one of Celestia’s great white wings embraced her. “I know, Twilight.”

Twilight, lost in a sea of warmth and joy, nodded in understanding. Of course Celestia knew. Her eyes shut, closing her off from the world and leaving her in the mercy of her beloved’s embrace.

“I think of all those that I’ve loved, all the lives I’ve tried to fill with joy… and they all leave.” Celestia’s voice carried sadness, but hope as well, her words sending spider-web cracks through Twilight’s fluttering heart. “Some have asked me, how can I still love, when I am fated to outlast the bonds I create? But Twilight, I simply ask in return, how can I not?”

Twilight nodded, mind overcome with the sensation of the princess’ hooves moving to hold her own, of her belly against hers, of her wings holding her tight. Her eyes opened reluctantly, looking up at the radiant mare embracing her in the pool, her eyes so full of love that Twilight had done nothing to deserve.

“But Princess…. It’s shameful, isn’t it?” Twilight pleaded desperately, knowing that Celestia was making a mistake. “It’s wrong of me to want this. Being your friend is more than I could ever have dreamed of… more than I should have dreamed of…”

“What shame is there in a dream?” Celestia whispered, her sweet breath hot against Twilight’s muzzle. “What shame is there… in this?”

Twilight gasped as the princess’ lips, light and passionate, pressed into hers…

And the daydream promptly shattered as Twilight inhaled a lungful of bathwater.

She spluttered and choked, disorientated as she scrambled for breath. For a second she fell below the suddenly unwelcoming water, but a strong pair of hooves wrapped around her torso and pulled her head above the water. Instinctively, Twilight knew it was Celestia and curled into her, coughing out the water from her lungs over both herself and the princess. ‘Just another dollop of embarrassment on top of another big serving of humiliation,’ a part of her groaned as she was rested against the side of the bath. She ignored the voice, instead wildly hurling her hooves forward to grip the edge, pulling her head back onto dry land where she wheezed for the elusive gift of air.

Twilight felt hooves massaging her back as she spluttered out the last of the water and tried to breathe past the soreness in her windpipe. “P-princess…”

“Shh…” Celestia whispered soothingly, her hooves gently kneading Twilight’s coat. “Are you okay?”

“Mmm, I’m fine now, I just…” Twilight buried her face between her hooves. “I was daydreaming. I’m sorry.”

“There’s no reason to apologise for a little daydream,” Celestia said softly. Her hooves continued to move, their focus shifting from encouraging steady breathing to a more soothing motion. Her words did little to subdue the steady trickle of guilt in Twilight’s heart – they were too close to the words of the Celestia in her dumb little fantasy. She wondered if Celestia’s opinion would change if she knew the content of the dream.

White hooves worked against these fears, tenderly untangling knots of stress and worry built up in her lavender frame.

She wondered how close the dream came to her princess in reality.

The unicorn closed her eyes calmly. ‘Dangerous thoughts, Twilight.’ “I think I’m… done with the bath.”

“Okay,” Celestia replied in hushed understanding. The wonderful pressure slowly pulled from Twilight’s back, and a clack of hooves sung clearly through the chamber. From the doorway of the room, the three specialists re-emerged.

“Are we ready, Your Majesty?”

“I believe so.” Celestia rose from the water, pulling herself over the side and splashing Twilight slightly. One wing trailed low, grazing Twilight’s side and ushering her forward. She quickly followed cue, clambering from the pool without even a fraction of the princess’ grace and trotted alongside her as they returned to the stone altars that served as the spa’s beds.

“What’ll it be?” Shower asked, already eyeing Celestia’s folded wing.

“I think a deep preen and full coat treatment is in order,” replied Celestia. “Perhaps a little trim and a hooficure? Twilight?”

“Me?” Twilight snapped to attention, halfway through seating. Seeing the attendants smile encouragingly, she nodded. “Oh, nothing too fancy, I think. I’ve got a lot of work to do in the lab today, and it’s probably…” Smoke and flames rose before her mind’s eye. “Messy…” she finished.

“Might I recommend a deep massage, hooficure and a hornicure?” Buttergold asked.

Twilight nodded. “Okay, that sounds good.”

“I agree,” Celestia piped in. “Could I get the same as well?”

The trio nodded, beckoning them to their seats. Twilight carefully sat down on her altar a moment after Celestia herself rested down. The princess, naturally, had the attendants’ full attention for the moment, though the steady expression on her face betrayed a knot of anxiety that Twilight was beginning to learn to spot. She flashed her mentor a sympathetic smile as the white wing shrouding the burn on her side was lifted, causing the three spa mares to suppress gasps.

“If you would…” Celestia practically mumbled, and the attendants snapped out of their daze. After a few murmurs between them, they resumed their work.

“You majesty,” Shower said as she inspected Celestia’s outstretched wing. “If you don’t mind me saying, this morning when I heard you had been in an accident I expected you to be a bit more ruffled. Your wings are looking rather well.”

“I’m a tough old bird,” Celestia said with a weak smile. “Also, this morning, I, well, preened a touch, just to get things presentable.”

Showers murmured in understanding. “You’re right to. I remember, back when I was in school…”

Twilight was drawn away from the idle gossip by another voice. “Miss Sparkle?” Twilight turned her head to see Buttergold, who was smiling politely. “If you’d just like to lie down?”

“Oh, right.” Twilight rested down on the bed, wriggling slightly as she felt the earth pony’s hooves press into her back and begin their work. A fragrant scent wafted into her nose, no doubt oils the attendant was working into her back. With a sigh of contentment, Twilight found herself relaxing once more, sinking gratefully into the seat.

The sound of water pouring and splashing caught her attention, and she glanced over to the source. The grey-maned unicorn had begun pouring a bucket of water evenly over Celestia’s form, drenching every inch of her white coat.

Twilight’s eyes promptly snapped forward. ‘Oh come on!’ a part of her complained, though at this point she had no idea what part. Logical, emotional, or otherwise, it seemed they were all sick of her whining. ‘You’ll never get over her if you can’t even look her in the eye!’

Twilight found her eyes returning regardless, so after a moment of tracing Celestia’s jawline, she actively turned her attention to something else. The bucket hovered over Celestia’s head, and Twilight held in a snicker to see the princess’ face scrunch up slightly before the water washed directly above her. Her drenched mane was weighed down as a result, but instead of being pasted to the side of her face like Twilight’s was, it billowed languidly as if underwater.

‘Wow.’ Twilight’s eyes widened at the spectacle. Celestia, for her part, tentatively opened her eyes, blinking rapidly to dispel the drops blurring her vision, and caught her protégé’s gaze.

A strange, silent conversation ensued.

Celestia smiled, raising an eyebrow inquisitively. ‘Something the matter?’

Twilight shrugged her shoulder, letting her mane bob slightly, then nodded towards the princess’ hair. ‘Your mane.’

Celestia glanced at it, then silently giggled and gave Twilight a somewhat sheepish look. She ran a hoof through her wet mane. ‘Is it a good look?’

Twilight smirked and nodded. ‘Yes, I like it.’

Celestia’s chin rose fractionally, pleased. ‘Is that so?’

Then the attendants moved, blocking the princess’s gaze from sight.

‘Okay, that was almost normal,’ Twilight mentally snarked, but without barbs. Relaxing into the massage, she quietly considered how natural this was becoming, despite the initial awkwardness on her part. ‘It’s certainly a big departure from the research sessions and occasional lunches we’ve been having this past while…’ Twilight mused. No, this was nice, like the times she spent at the little spa in Ponyville. With her friends.

‘You said that before you got into the bath, remember,’ groused her cynical side.

‘So? Still valid. I can’t help it if…’ The memory of mere minutes ago surged, of Celestia drifting in the steamy pool, her eyes lidded and inviting… Twilight coughed. ‘If I keep doing that. If I keep getting flip-flops in my stomach.’

‘I mean, is it really weird for me to be like this for her? Celestia is…’ Her eye cracked open to steal another look at her princess, who was quietly enjoying her treatment as the unicorn and pegasus both worked to clean and soothe her battered body with frothy soaps and shampoos.

Celestia was smiling peacefully, and Twilight’s heart rose in tandem. ‘She’s my idol.’ Twilight had already known this, but at that moment she found herself discovering a deeper facet to its shape. ‘She’s my idol, she’s always been. I wanted to study magic because of her, she led directly to me discovering my true passion, then she guided me so that I could live it as fully as possible.

‘Not to mention, Celestia actually likes spending time with me. I’m her friend. She’s smart, and wise, and funny and thoughtful and caring and…’

Another gurgle of water sounded beside her, and another glance was stolen. Celestia rested, wings high and radiant, coat bright and fresh and glistening in the light of the morning sun. The suds from the soaps pooled and swirled in the slowly draining puddles around the altar, making her appear as a goddess risen from the surf.

‘And she’s so beautiful…’ Twilight sighed deeply in surrender, unable to deny it. ‘She’s just… radiant, a perfect paragon of feminine beauty, and… why is she looking right at me did I-? Oh heavens, everyone heard me moan, didn’t they?’

“Buttergold’s quite talented, isn’t she?” Celestia asked after a too-long pause, chuckling. Behind her, the two attendants shared a glance between each other. Buttergold’s hooves on Twilight’s back had slowed, seemingly apprehensive.

Twilight stared, wide eyed, before nodding rigidly. “Yes. That she is.”

Steamy cleared her throat, and magically levitated a hoof-file. “Princess, if you’ll just lend me your hooves for a moment?”

“Ah, of course.” The princess rested herself on her good side, her wing extended protectively over her burn. The old unicorn gave the princess’ hooves an appraising look before beginning her work.

Twilight caught, murmured under Celestia’s breath, a slight hum of pleasure. ‘She’s doing this on purpose, isn’t she?’ Twilight suppressed a groan and burrowed her head between her forelegs. Shutting her eyes did little to mute the happy sighs of Celestia floating into her ears. Twilight flopped down, the earth pony’s hooves doing little to banish her woes. ‘This is going to be a long morning…’ she bemoaned.

Then the expert hooves pressed hard on a kink in her back, and Twilight melted.

‘Oh well…’ she reasoned, seeing the pegasus attendant approach with a hoof-file of her own. ‘I might as well enjoy it while it lasts, right?’

~{C}~

Composure, Chapter 5, end

Chapter 6 - Calamity

Composure

by Varanus

A MLP:FiM fanfiction.

~{C}~

Chapter 6 – Calamity

~{C}~

The noontime sun streamed through the stained-glass windows of the castle, bathing Celestia and Twilight in many-hued streams of light as they strolled back towards the royal chambers, taking the scenic route. The castle was theirs alone, with only a few stoic guards here and there seeming to be about to greet them.

As they stepped through an archway, they found themselves on the fateful bridge from earlier. The sun was streaming down at a steeper angle now, filling the narrow passage with light. Celestia stretched her wings, catching air between her now-pristine feathers. Her coat gleamed in the sunlight, brighter than usual, and she marvelled at how wonderful the sensation of merely being clean was.

She sneaked a peek at her protégé, who was looking similarly refreshed. Her coat was fetchingly glossy and her horn filed to a conservative point, though the fluting was etched a bit more daringly than usual…

Celestia tore her attention away and focused on the flagstones. ‘Are they keeping this well maintained? Yes. No, there’s a crack. Should that be replaced? No. Nothing needs to change…’ Her eyes flicked over from her own hooves to the lavender set trotting aside her. ‘You’re just being a bit silly.’

‘Still, being perfectly honest, I… think I may have enjoyed that more than I should have…’

She took another glance at Twilight – she was looking perfectly forward, neck tellingly rigid, as interested in the path ahead as Celestia was with the flagstones. Clearing her throat, Celestia broke the silence. “I… I’m loath to admit it, but that was a little awkward, wasn’t it?” She smiled apologetically at Twilight, but her spirits lifted to see her smile bashfully back at her.

“Yeah, a little,” she replied, rolling her shoulder. “But it was nice.”

Celestia smiled, pleased. “Wasn’t it, though?”

“Yes, it was,” Twilight affirmed, before glancing shyly downwards. “We’ll… we’ll have to do it again sometime.”

“I’d like that, yes…” Celestia cleared her throat again. “It’s a nice break when shared with a friend, isn’t it?”

Twilight nodded her head vigorously as she pounced on the safe topic. “Absolutely. The girls and I try and get together every few weeks for a spa day. I’ve got Zecora to thank for that, I really doubt Rainbow or Applejack would have ever gone for something like it before.”

“It’s fun to introduce friends to new things,” Celestia agreed. “I remember when I first revealed that spa to Luna. What you have to remember is, a thousand years ago there were no spas, but there were cleansing rituals from which spa treatments were developed...”

So they slipped into comfortable routine, Celestia threading history lesson with personal anecdote, with Twilight at her side paying rapt attention.

They arrived back at Celestia’s chambers before they knew it, pausing in their discussion only to smile at the guards. Her bedroom doors lit up with a rosy sparkle as Twilight stood aside with playful courtesy, letting Celestia enter first. Celestia gave her an amused look as she passed, heading for her bed.

“Going to rest up a bit more?”

“I think so.” Celestia slid under the sheets and, once she was comfortable, glanced back over to Twilight. She was pawing the ground idly, glancing out of the window. Celestia’s eyes flitted shut a moment, testing the sun’s arc, before turning back to the anxious unicorn. “Twilight, it’s nearing noon. Should you be off?”

Twilight nodded, a shade reluctantly. “Yes. I’ll be back soon,” she added, almost insisting that she’d return.

Celestia nodded. “I know. And you’ll have recovered much of the vital results from the experiment, I’m sure.”

“Right...” Twilight said with a restrained sigh, making her way back to the door. “Off I go then.”

“Twilight?” Celestia called after her. Concern carried clear through the air, and, when Twilight turned, she had adopted a familiar confidence that almost assuaged the princess’ worry.

“I’m just over-thinking things,” Twilight said, shrugging. “You know how it is. No need to worry about me.”

“Even so,” came Celestia’s reply as she put on her best comforting smile. Instead of perking up, however, Twilight only flashed a weak smile in return and disappeared out the doorway before another word could pass between them, leaving Celestia with a disquieting sense of unease.

She lay back in her bed, taking pains not to disturb the still snoozing Spike, and let the scene play out back before her mind’s eye, trying to pin the sensation down. As her feathers grazed over the still-sensitive burn on her side, she discovered the sensation was that same unwelcome sense of powerlessness that had vexed her not hours before. Unable to raise a pillow with her magic, let alone the sun, unable to preen properly to tidy herself, and now unable to reassure her little pony...

Celestia shifted to her side, letting her eyelids slide shut. There was little point in dwelling on such problems when no doubt a solution was waiting to reveal itself. Twilight’s hesitance, though masterfully cloaked, had been clear to Celestia, and the disquiet that lingered about her was the reminder of her impotence in this arena. Gone were the days when a kind word from the princess would banish her student’s woes. Celestia brushed her forehead, still so tender, and let herself smile ruefully. More and more, it seemed the mentor itself was the source of the poor protege's troubles.

‘It’s up to her, I suppose. I couldn’t possibly help with the salvage work in the lab in my condition... and even if I could, if everypony saw me like this, there’s no telling how they might react. The fallout from Chrysalis’ army was bad enough...’ She sighed, remembering the fearful and confused faces of her ponies staring down at her as she lay, struck down by the changeling Queen’s deceptively enhanced magic.

‘There's a thought...’ she pondered, the memory standing out to her. ‘Perhaps a festival of some sort will distract Canterlot from this incident?’ After all, the changeling army’s abrupt banishment not an hour after her defeat had offered Celestia the opportunity to minimize the fallout quite elegantly, simply by encouraging Shining and Cadance to be wed that very eve. Thanks again to Twilight and her organizational prowess, Celestia had found the breathing room to retreat to her chambers and be seen to by Ramheart and was back to preside over the ceremony as if nothing had happened.

‘Perhaps too much time has passed already...’ Celestia shrugged and made a mental note to ask Twilight’s opinion on the matter. Turning, she searched her bedside table for something to read – and then the realisation hit her like a lead weight.

Without even thinking about it, she had resolved to consult Twilight about something as important and personal as her need to be seen as pristine. Not even Luna really knew the full extent of the sun princess’ self-admitted eccentricity, thinking it just an artifact from the old days much like the Royal Canterlot Voice.

‘Then again, my sister is probably the last pony I’d confess this to...’ Celestia sighed, a pang of guilt accompanying the thought. ‘There's no point in burdening Luna with my little neurosis...’

But apparently Twilight was fair game? No, this wasn’t her mind making rational judgements, it was a silly fluttering of her heart sneaking thoughts into the back of her head, just as it had done in the spa. Celestia let out her frustration in a small, helpless chuckle. ‘How maddening. No, I can’t burden Twilight with my woes. It would be beyond unfair. She’s strong, but this on top of everything else could break her...’

Though perhaps in time. Celestia smiled true, nodding to herself. Yes, in time, when things were settled, there would be ample opportunity to confide.

‘Is she still concerned?’ Celestia wondered. She shifted onto her back, considering the idea with a playful air. ‘Did she just not want to leave me unattended? Or did she just not want to leave me at all...?’ She smiled, chiding herself for a burst of excited hope that fluttered at the thought. ‘Careful. The spa was bad enough...’

Still, she chuckled at the idea before letting it slide away as she settled down into her pillow, deciding the best thing for it was a quick nap.

No sooner had she closed her eyes, a voice drifted into her ear. “Are you there?”

Celestia bolted up in a sudden fright and scanned the room for the intruding speaker. Finding herself alone save for young Spike curled up his cushion nearby, she allowed herself to relax once more, thankful that she hadn’t tried to use magic in that moment of shock. Resting back into bed, she suppressed the slight embarrassment of the moment and instead considered the voice. It had appeared right as she was ready to sleep... Perhaps Luna would know more about –

Ah. Of course.

Celestia allowed herself to relax, breathing deep. The voice wafted back, tentatively searching for a reply. “Sister?”

‘I’m here,’ she replied.

Mist rolled over the darkness behind her shut eyes, and from them images took shape, orphaned of context and meaning, as she felt herself being tugged almost physically into sleep. Celestia watched the shapes out of the corner of her eye, recognising them not by sight, but by the emotions they stirred up in her. Confidence and pride formed platforms of steel and copper. Fascination and disbelief hung over her head as gemstones every colour of the rainbow. Flowers stirred her heart, yet made her wary, hesitant.

She followed her sole beacon, that tug in her mind, surrendering her instinctive desire for certainty and drifting through the realm of subjectivity. Her body began to fade, returning to the mist as her mind grew comfortably dull and lethargic, but just as her consciousness was enveloped totally within the dream, she felt a presence make itself known.

Smoothly, she brought her form back into crystal clarity, and turned her head to greet her visitor. “Luna,” she said, smiling as her sister drifted through the mist. “I wasn’t expecting to see you until much later in the evening.”

“Likewise, Celestia.” The night princess smirked, her voice light and teasing. “I am glad you heard my call, but it does auger ill – so early in the morning and you are already dozing off. I hope this laziness does not become habit.”

“Not laziness, sister, recovery.” Celestia’s reply was mock–haughty and matter-of-fact, happily engaging in the little game Luna was offering. “I’m resting after a lovely spa treatment; I very much recommend availing of them while they’re in the castle.”

Luna bit her lip, eyes wandering upwards as she considered the offer. “Ooh... tempting. Perhaps, perhaps. It was enjoyable, you say?” Her eyes gleamed, bright and comforting starts in the swirling mist.

Celestia opened her mouth to reply, but to her surprise heat enveloped her. Seamlessly, she was back in the herbal bath, her body reflexively stretching out to relish the soak. Looking up, she saw Twilight linger hesitantly at the edge of the pool... then begin to lower her body into the water, sliding in beside her. Celestia tensed for a moment, but that strange anxiety faded when her unicorn’s eyes rolled back in a near caricature of bliss. “Oh Celestia, this is incredible...” she moaned.

Laughter rippled through the air, jarring Celestia, for it was more real than the steam and water around her. Startled, she stepped away, and reality faded. The warmth vanished, but no chill followed, and to her surprise she found herself standing before the very vision she had been lost in, for carved out in the mist was a hazy spa bath, complete with a smoky unicorn and princess. She stared at it, lost, as if it were a painting or play to appraise distantly. The laughter, however, continued, and, turning her head, she could see Luna seizing up in hysterics.

“Luna, what... what is that?” Celestia asked, her face flushed with no small confusion - and more than a little embarrassment.

“Pardon, sister, I beg,” Luna said, managing to clamp down on her laughter. Her eyes flitted to the spa scene, and her grin grew mischievous. “This is your dream, your… aha, stream of consciousness. Of course memories will come quick and unbidden. Careful, lest you get swept away.” She began to chuckle. “Although perhaps that’s exactly what you desire, more sweet memories of your faithful…” She let the word linger in the air, dangerously ambiguous.

Luna’s words, though teasing in nature, nevertheless prodded at something young and vulnerable inside Celestia. “You’re reading too much into it,” she said, moving to shield her discomfort with an indignant huff.

Luna’s grin wavered, but then she stepped forward, calling Celestia’s bluff. “But am I, really?” she needled, cocking her head inquisitively. “You say that, but… Oh, but look at you.” She trotted over to the mist-carved memory and brought her head down between the two mares in the bath. She smirked, catlike, as Celestia saw her memory’s expression – eyes happy and intently focused, joined by a grin that bordered on eager.

Celestia turned sharply away, her heart thudding with panic and her guilty voice whispering a reminder of her thoughts earlier: ‘I enjoyed it more than a friend should have. Seizing opportunities without the intent to follow through, at Twilight’s expense... leave. I need to think.’ She knew it was irrational to just ‘run’, but her legs obeyed her gut before her mind could object.

Luna’s voice carried after her, light and merry and a touch cruel to Celestia’s ear. “Poor little Twilight has no idea the dreams you have in store for her, does she?”

Dreams of basking below a crimson-leaved tree, sharing a fruit called life...

“That’s enough,” Celestia said firmly, taking several calming breaths. Around her, the formless void spilled out into infinity, colour blooming in greens and browns and reds of every hue. When the sun princess’ eyes opened once more, it had all consolidated into a rich green field, fruit trees dotting the landscape as they sprouted up here and there around her.

“How lovely,” Luna marvelled, clearly impressed.

Though normally Celestia would have relished this approval, here she made a point of ignoring her sister, plucking an orange from the branches dangling above her and settling down on the grass to peel it. Truth be told, she wasn’t even particularly fond of oranges, but the allure of being able to manipulate something with her magic, even in a dream, was stronger than the promise of imaginary strawberries.

She heard her sister make an approving noise, then a snap of a branch. With a glance out of the corner of her eye she saw Luna approach with her own prize floating before her, a fat, golden-green pear. “An ansault? How nostalgic. I missed these,” she murmured, before biting down and trotting over to Celestia.

Focusing on the orange, Celestia did her best to zone Luna out entirely, which proved difficult as the younger merely rested down across from her and tilted her head inquisitively, munching on the pear as they mutually engaged in the waiting game.

The orange, now peeled and split into segments, was laid out on the grass between them. Celestia fiddled with them in the silence, eating them one by one, all the while fixed by Luna’s inscrutable gaze. “Please don’t tease me about Twilight,” she finally said.

Luna gave her a sideways grin. “I will stop when you’ve answered directly,” she said, devoid of mercy. “Am I wrong? Sister, you coaxed her into a bath with you...”

“It was an herbal spa bath, the kind that we share and she shares often with her friends.” Celestia levitated the orange rind and began to carefully tear it in two. “It was innocent. And besides that, I arranged this spa treatment before I...”

“Before?” Luna’s grin returned triumphant, her chin dripping with the pear’s juices. “Before what?”

Celestia’s voice wavered as she realised she was caught. “Before... before you got these silly notions in your head about Twilight and I,” she said, firm in her weak retort.

Luna’s eyes narrowed, a low chuckle signalling that she saw right through Celestia. “Oh no you don’t. You deflected me about this morning, but…”

Luna’s words died as Celestia found herself on her bed again. She blinked, somewhat confused. ‘Have I woken already?’

A presence grazed against her side, and Celestia’s eyes slid over to see her faithful Twilight resting beside her. Her eyes fluttered slowly open, lavender butterfly-wings testing the morning breeze.

“Hello Celestia...” she murmured, smiling absently up to her.

“You seem to have slept well,” Celestia said, suppressing a light giggle. “Did you have sweet dreams?”

“Hmm, maybe...” Twilight replied drowsily. She closed her eyes and, with a contented sigh, snuggled closer to Celestia.

Luna’s laughter began anew, and Celestia snapped out of the daydream to see her sister rolling on her back in mirth.

Celestia felt her withers begin to tense anew, and she willed herself not to turn away this time. “You’re taking that out of context,” she said, before Luna could utter another jibe.

Luna’s laughter continued, undeterred. “The context makes it worse!” she said, taking clear pleasure from Celestia’s discomfort. She waved a hoof over the scene, of the sleepy, beautiful unicorn curled into Celestia’s side. “Look! You slept the night in each other’s embrace! Are you sure you’re not telling me something, hmm?”

Celestia rose to her hooves, agitation getting the best of her. The absence, however imaginary, of Twilight’s warmth jarred her like an off-key note in a symphony, but she gathered the jarring sensation up around her, setting it along her shoulders and twitching wings as annoyance and frustration. “Don’t you even begin,” she said, her eyes stern as she shored up her composure with rising indignation. “How did you even call up that memory anyway? Are you trying to peer into my mind?”

Luna’s expression flashed from amusement to shock for a moment, sending a thorn of regret through Celestia. However, her sister recovered almost instantly and began to grin anew, her tone breezy. “Ah, nothing so invasive,” she assured Celestia. “I warned you before, did I not? This is your mind, sister. Perhaps it’s been growing wild recently, hmm...?”

Celestia’s gaze fell to the ground – but instead of grass, she found herself knee-deep in cool, flowing water. Twilight stood before her, her face downcast and hidden, and suddenly Celestia’s heart was flooded with remorse, shame and worry. Drips of water fell from Twilight’s face, but from her vantage point the princess couldn’t tell whether or not they were tears.

“I’m sorry,” Celestia whispered.

Her unicorn’s reply came wavering yet stern. “You should be.” A further pang of shame through Celestia’s heart… and yet…

Celestia pulled away, stepping back onto the grass. She took a few paces away, her expression crumbling into a conflicted crown as she contemplated the vision. ‘It’s not the student’s place to chastise the teacher…’ And yet chastened Celestia assuredly was, now, so where did that place her? Where did that place Twilight?

Luna remained silent, sobered by the serious memory, glancing from it to Celestia with an inquisitive look. “This really is bothering you, isn’t it?” she asked after a long moment.

“I suppose it is…” Celestia sighed, letting the memory of the pool in the shade of the castle fade away. Twilight, however, remained, her expression turning to that same lost look of anxiety that had painted her face before they had parted.

“Off I go then…” the memory mumbled, turning and trotting into the mist.

Celestia could practically feel Luna’s gaze on her, seeking some sort of enlightenment to the matter. “She’s worried about the experiment, I think,” Celestia supplied, voice low and tinged with slight worry. “There’s nothing I can do, really, and that rather... chafes at me.”

“You tend to avoid intervening anyway,” Luna pointed out.

Celestia bobbed her head, conceding the point. “True. But this is different. This is about us.”

“I’ve no doubt.” Luna smiled again, but this time it wasn’t teasing. Celestia met her eye, returning the smile with an appreciative one of her own as the night princess rose to her hooves, adopting a thoughtful expression. “You said you dreamed of her last night?”

Celestia nodded. “That is important, I presume?”

“Very, if you’re quite worried for her,” Luna said. She looked across the landcape with a keen, appraising eye. “You said you two grew fruit? Where? There are already many orchards here, in this dream.”

“The tree isn’t here, among the others. It’s separate, at the edge of the garden... perhaps even a little beyond it.” Celestia mulled over her own words. “When I say it plainly like that, the significance is rather clear...”

Luna smiled. “I find it fitting. Twilight is a unique pony, to both of us.”

Celestia couldn’t suppress the slight smile that bloomed at this sentiment. “Agreed.” Twilight’s significance to her life was unparallelled by any other pony through the ages. Perhaps it was no surprise that she felt herself feeling... differently, recently. Whether or not those feelings were true, there was no denying her importance, something the dream had made so clear. “We ran together, through the gardens, and… found the tree. By chance.”

“Ah, so you two took a journey together?” Luna smiled, and the world shimmered around her. From the corner of her eye, off in the distance…

A lavender pony galloping, away from the horizon.

“Twilight…” Celestia sighed, her heart stirring as it recalled the exhilaration of racing her dream’s unicorn through the gardens, challenging each other for no reason other than because they were free, taking shortcuts and long routes alike, relishing their private search for a flower, together…

And then before Celestia, there was a chalkboard, dense with scrawled notes and equations. Feeling a surge of purpose, Celestia stepped forward, snatching up a stick of chalk and began to add to the formulas, linking together the equations in order to complete some ambiguous mathematical proof.

“Ah!” somepony exclaimed behind her. Celestia turned to see Twilight canter up, her eyes scanning the additions frantically. “I wasn’t quite… done…” Her protests trailed off as her expression turned thoughtful. “Huh.”

“No?” Celestia asked, picking up the eraser.

“Actually… yeah, this looks good… oh!” Twilight snatched up the eraser and swiped away a portion of the additions, before snatching up the chalk and making additions of her own. “Output from resonance seems to increase to the power of n, n being the number of nodes… otherwise, that looks good.” She gave Celestia a giddy smile. “I think we’ve cracked it!”

“There’s still a long way to go,” Celestia cautioned her, but smiled nonetheless.

So they turned back to their work. Together they scrawled symbols and numbers and diagrams on a chalkboard, their lines criss-crossing and spiralling together as one.

They worked in tandem, no words needed. It was perfect harmony.

Then the daydream faded, and Celestia was back in the garden.

“When was that?” Luna asked, curious.

“Oh, months ago…” Celestia said absently, now finally grasping the nature of the dreams’ intrusions. She was trying to remember the rest of her dream, the dream of running, running with her unicorn…

There, in the distance, Celestia was sure she could see a tree with swaying red leaves.

“You can tease me with memories all you like…” Celestia murmured. “But what if…” Her eyes closed, and she stepped forward.

Her hoof met not grassy loam, but hard stone. Familiar stone.

The clatter of many hooves on concrete resounded through the air, and Celestia opened her eyes to find herself in a large, high-roofed room filled with at least half a dozen ponies, all wearing white lab coats.

“I… I remember now!” Celestia exclaimed. The world wavered, becoming overlaid with the garden once more.

“Well aren’t you clever! Careful, though…” Luna stepped up beside her, and the laboratory suddenly grew much clearer and stronger. “I’ll do my best to keep your mind sensitive to this moment, but it’ll work better if…”

“If I don’t think about it, correct?” Celestia smiled, and nuzzled her sister appreciatively. “Don’t worry, I’ve yet to forget how to dream.”

And then she was there, in the lab once more, and she always had been. The only gardens that day were the ones she and Twilight had taken a little detour through for the sake of it, before teleporting directly here with ten minutes to spare. Celestia stepped forward, each sound of hooves on stone reaffirming her place that much more.

Casually, she observed the familiar laboratory. Very few windows punctured the smooth grey walls, save for a strip of them high up near the roof. However, the room was far from dim, as the whole ceiling was tiled with brightly glowing panels of glass. Celestia could feel the warmth of the sun through the light they emitted, and chuckled, as she always did when she saw the panels. ‘What will they do next?’

A more recent feature dominating the room was a ring of pillars which surrounded a strange contraption that for all the world resembled an ornate fountain. It hung over a deep, clear pool of water, reachable only by a number of walkways between it and the shore. It was the Resonance array, the instrument through which Twilight’s experiment could be carried out, a product of months of research and design on both Twilight and Celestia’s part. It was to be the proverbial tree that would bear the fruit of Twilight’s years of study, and Celestia was anxious to see it happen.

Standing nearby, in stark contrast to the array’s near-elegance, were chunky grey tabulation machines being fitted with reams of paper and tested for calibrations. Wires spanned the distance between the machines in a network of coloured lines so intricate it bordered on chaotic, as if some fat spider had spun a trap while drunk on rainbow juice, with half a dozen scientists in place of the arachnids, connecting and quintuple-checking their connections as they went.

She looked to her side to see Twilight fussing about with a set of complicated blueprints, half-arguing with several other ponies. ‘Well, I suppose time will tell,’ Celestia mused, and strolled over to them. “Is there a problem?” she asked.

Twilight looked up at Celestia, her eyes bright. “No, we’re just going through some last-minute adjustments.”

“I still say that a triangle rune layout is going to introduce unnecessary noise into the readouts,” grumbled her aide.

“And as I keep telling you, Dusty,” Twilight insisted, turning back to face the beige unicorn, “The layout isn’t a triangle, it’s a pyramid – in three dimensions, it’s a closed environment, thus it’s actually more finely tuned. The so-called noise you’re talking about is actually a far more accurate recording of magical flux than attainable in a two-dimensional rune arrangement! Furthermore – ”

Spike turned away from the arguing ponies, a pained look on his face as he looked up at Celestia. A silent plea was etched into every inch of his being: ‘Save me...’

Celestia tried to suppress a smile at his expense and levitated him onto her back. As the somewhat surprised dragon whelp found his footing, Celestia looked between Twilight and her researchers. “It rather sounds as if there is a problem...” she said, allowing her voice to take a worried tone.

“There isn’t,” Twilight said firmly. Turning to Dusty Scroll, she smiled reassuringly. “Trust me, there really isn’t a problem here.”

“I suppose it’s a bit late to change everything now...” the stallion sighed in defeat, glancing over at the scaffolding. “Will I just give everything one last sweep?”

“Please do, thank you,” Twilight replied. As he left she snatched up a checklist and floated it before her, an excited smile on her face. “There’s only the lightning gem to take care of now!” Her smile became ecstatic as she looked up at the princess.

Celestia shared the smile, sympathising with the unicorn’s anticipation. “Shall we inspect it then?” she offered, to which Twilight frantically nodded.

Like a filly on Hearth’s Warming Eve, Twilight scampered some distance away from the pillars, towards a tall metal spire embedded in the ground. She came to a stop just outside a ring of yellow paint on the ground and peered intently at a glowing blue gem embedded loosely in the pole. “Not quite fully saturated...” she muttered to herself.

A crack of thunder boomed from above, and the spire lit up as a lightning bolt snaked down its length. It vanished the moment it ran through the gemstone, absorbed into the magical stone without ever reaching earth. Pleased, Twilight looked up to see two pegasi circling a small, dark cloud near the ceiling. “Cloudkicker and Thunderlane seem to be doing a good job up there,” she said, before raising her voice. “How’s it going, you two?”

“Almost fully charged, ma’am!” Cloudkicker saluted, before giving the roiling black cloud beside her a solid buck. A fork of lightning jolted from it, which immediately turned and travelled down the spire. This time, however, the lightning bolt skipped past the gem and plunged right into the earthing plate at the base of the pole.

“That’s enough!” Twilight called, before beginning to pace around the spire, giving the gem a critical eye.

The two pegasi descended to the ground, and after Celestia acknowledged their deferential bow, they clamoured up beside the unicorn, sharing excited looks. “Is it ready?” Cloudkicker asked.

“I think so – it looks like it’s fully saturated, don’t you think?” Twilight asked, glee in her voice as she inspected the glowing white crystal.

“Looks that way to me.” Celestia nodded in agreement.

Twilight gingerly levitated a set of insulated prongs and plucked the crystal from its rest. “Okay, next phase!” she said.

Celestia trailed behind her as she marched over to the pillars. The ponies around her parted respectfully, and Celestia could almost feel their excitement and anticipation in the air, needle-pricks of emotion dancing along her withers and shoulders. It set her heart similarly abuzz, and her steps were almost light as she took her place on the edge of the circle of pillars.

There, the array stood silent, an anticipation about it much like the anxiety a pegasus foal feels before their first flight, wings untested and the vast imposing world far below. Celestia’s eyes slid to Twilight, running around and securing the large cables, radiating quiet pride… in no small way like the pride that nervous foal’s mother must feel as their child prepares for her first leap from the clouds.

Celestia looked over the edge of the walkway to the resonance array, the contraption that resembled a water fountain of gleaming metal. It hung over a deep pool of water, reachable only by one of the few narrow gantries Twilight was currently traversing, sparking gem in her grip.

There, immediately below the podium, was a second platform housing another gem, this one an emerald pulsing with light. Its housing podium was upside-down compared to the one above the surface, such that it seemed at first to be merely the reflection in the water.

With a soft clink of stone on metal, Twilight fixed the lightning gem in place atop its podium. She retreated with careful haste, signalling to the scientists on standby to retract the gantries.

Twilight returned to Celestia’s side and turned back to survey her work. “It’s ready~!” she whispered.

“So what are you waiting for?” Celestia teased in an equally hushed tone, her protégé’s excitement evidently highly contagious.

Twilight, however, seemed glued to the ground, a smile frozen on her face.

Celestia felt a scaly weight shift on her back. “Uh, Twilight?” Spike asked, voice tentative. “I think you’re up.”

Snapping out of the trance, Twilight nodded and scampered to the gathered team.

“Fillies and gentlecolts, thank you for being here today. We’re ready to begin the experiment,” she announced, her voice steady and outwardly confident. However... her smile was frozen and her ears were flat on her head.

“She’s nervous...” Celestia murmured, torn between sympathy and amused exasperation.

Spike shrugged at the edge of her vision. “I don’t get it – she does public speaking all the time.”

“Nothing so personal,” Celestia reminded him.

Above them, Twilight’s speech continued in clipped tones. “The aims of the test are to explore the feasibility of Resonance between energy sources as a means of medium and large-scale energy generation.”

She cleared her throat and beckoned to the array behind her. Her horn lit, and a ball of light flared into light above her head.

“The gemstones are in place, and both podiums are inscribed with the fruit of our research. When the experiment begins, the insulation will be removed and magical energy will exchange between alpha and beta gem. If our inscriptions are right –”

Twilight paused, and blanched. “And they are right, I promise!” she said quickly. Lip caught between two anxiously grinding teeth, she looked over at Celestia –

And then sighed, and laughed. “Heh, sorry. For a second there it felt like I was back in school giving a first presentation. Pretty nerve wracking.”

One of the interns, Peppermint, shuddered. “Jeez, don't remind me.” A few older ponies chuckled sympathetically, a few glancing back at Celestia with a wince, clearly realising who Twilight once may have had to deliver such reports.

Twilight also glanced back and met her mentor’s eyes, bearing a nervous smile.

Celestia tilted her head, just a slight, near-imperceptible nod...

And her unicorn lit up, standing straight and clearing her throat.

“So... yes,” she continued, her little ball of light darting around the array swift and direct. “The two gems will become two ‘Sympathetic’ nodes of magic and Resonate, transferring energy back and forth until it starts generating magical energy through Synergy.”

Celestia beamed, relief and pride coursing through her as she saw Twilight visibly build in confidence before her eyes. There was the mare she recognised, trotting around the arcane equipment with such natural grace, rattling off explanations and hopes for each piece with easy confidence.

“The alpha gem will express this generated energy as electricity, which will run through these cables and feed into the tabulators, giving us all sorts of data.” As she spoke, the ball of light indicated the cables and zoomed over to the clunky machines that stood a safe distance from the array. Celestia did not turn to follow it like the rest of the team, devoting her attention instead to the unicorn on stage who had found her hooves and was beginning to run.

Twilight continued to speak, but the speech was familiar to Celestia – they had crafted it together, after all. Instead, Celestia found herself listening to the words her unicorn spoke with a proud jutting of her chin in the air, volumes of discourse in the surety of her tone.

Twilight stepped to the side to allow the team to view the pool behind her. “Now, there won’t be two lightning gems. The beta gem’s magical energies will instead be expressed through heat, which is why we’ve got this big pool of water.” There as a murmur of worry, as Celestia knew there would be – rarely was using water as a coolant seen as an intelligent move. Of course, both she and Twilight had spent some time developing a workaround, which her unicorn quickly moved to explain.

“It’s the only coolant that won’t interfere with the types of magical energies at play,” Twilight insisted, giving her team a reassuring grin. “But don’t worry about the lab becoming a sauna. It’s ice cold, pure filtered spring water and we’ve got lots of it – it’ll be quickly cycled out through vents, and the pipes feeding the supply are enchanted to raise the water’s heat capacity by several orders of magnitude, so there’s no risk that we’ll all be scalded by superheated, borderline-plasma steam.”

Her eyes glanced upwards as she mentally crunched the numbers for the nth time. “Well, probably.”

The team of researchers blanched, and Dusty Scroll shot her an aghast look.

Undaunted, Twilight carried on. “Now, this set-up has been tested rigorously on a much smaller scale, to great success. Today, however, is the day we test it at large scale. I’ve double and triple checked my numbers, and I’m confident today will be a success.

“If there are no questions...?” Twilight let the sentence hang in the air, searching her team for last-second reservations or doubt. Finding none, she grinned. Then... let’s begin.” Twilight turned to face the array, her horn glowing as she flipped switches and levers all around.

The first sparks began to crackle across the gemstone and a steady thum began to echo in the hall. Twilight began to give instructions to various ponies, directing them to and fro with a sure expression and hoof, unknowingly captivating the princess.

She was galloping now, Celestia knew, swifter than the wind and just as unstoppable. If she were an athlete, like her friends Dash and Applejack, there would be a great deal of obvious change. But for warriors of the mind, it was subtle, always subtle. Her mind was as sharp as a blade, and her beauty was in the play of light off its edge.

In this moment, she shone.

The sound around her washed into the background. Below the water, the heat gem flared white-hot, filling the whole pool with light, and Celestia could tell by the steady vibrations that the underground pumps were working hard to keep up with the gem’s amazing output. Above, on the podium, the alpha gem raged arcs and flashes of blinding lightning, a storm to split the sky distilled into a single hoof-full of precious stone. Sturdy metal rods held it firm, coaxing its fury into the fat cables that led directly to the tabulators.

“Hypnotic, isn’t it?” Twilight said, voice hushed.

Celestia nodded, pulling away from the transfixing light. Turning her attention back at the room, she noticed the appearances of the scientists had changed – their manes slightly messier, their gait slower, signs here and there of weariness from a day of hard work. Twilight herself had a saddlebag filled with notes unfamiliar to Celestia.

Confused, Celestia consulted the sun. The light radiating from the solar panels was dim and orange, and with a start Celestia realised much time had slipped away from her. ‘Have I been staring at the light for that long?’

“Fascinating...” one of the unicorn technicians monitoring the glow said under his breath, catching her attention.

“What is it?” Celestia asked, peering closer to the swirling vortex of light. Twilight followed, squinting at the source, her sense for scientific significance keen as ever.

He gestured with a hoof towards the pool. “The light's been dimming, and at first I thought my eyes were tricking me, but…” Celestia turned her gaze right into the centre of the vortex, her strong eyes quickly spotting what the scientist was referring to.

Fixed to the beta gem was a small, jagged, blood-red gemstone.

“Where did that come from?” Celestia murmured, intrigued yet wary. “Could the water have left some sort of mineral deposit, or pollution?”

“I don’t think so, it’s been growing too fast…” the scientist replied.

Twilight pounded a hoof to the ground as she came to a realisation. “It’s not a pollution, but it is waste. It must be the excess magical energy - some of it is being crystallised. I can only imagine the properties gems grown in this fashion might possess...” She peered closer, adjusting the dials on a protective set of goggles. “Princess, would you say that they’re glowing alongside the beta gem? I can’t quite tell...”

“I believe they are,” Celestia nodded. “That could indicate magical conductivity as good as the alpha and beta gems themselves.”

Twilight squealed, clapping her hooves excitedly. “And those gems were the purest available! And it’s just a by-product! If we can figure out the principles behind this matter generation… Princess, it’s a power source that creates its own fuel!” She magically snatched a clipboard from her saddlebag and began scribbling furiously. “The big question is how much energy this is bleeding… now to calculate the ratios, I’ll…”

Twilight trailed off into mumbling just as Celestia trailed off in her mind, eyes bright as she regarded the experiment. Her mind spun with the implications, the opportunities, suddenly seeming so endless. ‘Artificial gemstones, possessing of just as much utility as the finest gemstones? A cheap, renewable source of components for arcane sciences... magical devices using the gems as clean power sources... it could replace coal! Concerns of air pollution in Equestria could be answered before they became an issue!’

On her back, a scaly weight shifted. “Fake gems, huh? I wonder if they taste any good...” Spike muttered to himself, an idle thought floating into Celestia’s ear.

Celestia almost laughed, before freezing as another rush of inspiration hit her. ‘Could they taste good? The buffalo tribes were content to share their land in return for apples... could the same be said for dragons? We could create new and exotic flavours, exporting them to strengthen economic and diplomatic ties!’

“Interesting side effect,” was all Celestia said, reigning her imagination in.

Beside her, Twilight merely frowned. “Yes, but… I’ve overlooked something. This never happened during the small-scale tests.”

“Maybe it did, and the shards were microscopic?” Celestia offered. “Was the water ever salty afterwards?”

Twilight tapped her chin with the pen. “Well, Rainbow did try to drink some once. She said it tasted awful, but I assumed it was because of all the magic and electrodes in the tank at the time.”

“I thought it was actually kinda nice,” Spike chimed in. With the young dragon’s word of approval, Celestia made a mental note to look into contacting some of the more receptive dragons close to the realm.

The watched the array softly pulse for long minutes in silence, letting the rest of the team move around them making adjustments here and there. Celestia’s eyes slid down to the green crystal below the clear water. Straining her eyes, she could almost see a sliver of a red ridge begin to develop from the otherwise perfectly smooth emerald.

“I’m going to check the read-outs...” Twilight muttered. Celestia nodded, her attention devoted to the light-filled tank.

Another shard of red crystal broke from the growing mass, quietly floating to the bottom of the tank.

The clicking of the tabulators sped up, just a fraction.

Celestia’s ear flicked as she picked up the sound of hoofsteps on grassy loam rather than stone. Her eyes glanced to the side to see the dark form of her sister, a void in the light bathing everything else in the laboratory. “Ominous…” Luna murmured.

“Only because we know the outcome,” Celestia replied, though she didn’t deny the surge of unease she had felt when the machine’s clacking had increased.

Luna shrugged. “True. Forgive me for interrupting, I wanted a better view of all of this. So this was the great chase your dream described?”

“One would presume so… though we’re nearing the end. I remember…” Celesta looked back at the memory of the experiment, at Twilight pouring over the tabulators. At the same time, she could see the dream, her unicorn worriedly tending over the spindly sapling springing from the earth, its red leaves poking out, reaching for the sky.

Celestia stepped towards Twilight, and the world snapped into sharp focus.

“Something wrong, Twilight?” she asked, the clever unicorn’s clear anxiety quickly proving to be contagious.

Twilight pouted, as she did when something stumped her. “Yes, it’s strange... mass is being spontaneously formed from the experiment... we didn’t expect that, and it might account for some of this energy reading, but it’s still orders of magnitude lower than I predicted.”

Celestia’s eyebrows raised, the only betrayal of the surprise running through her. “It’s generating less than the predicted energy?” Between the light radiating from the array and the high hum of the water pumps, Celestia had expected energy to spare.

Twilight’s nod, however, argued that that was not the case. “The computer doesn’t lie. I’m beginning to think this project isn’t viable for large scale operation...”

Celestia looked over her student’s shoulders at the ream of paper spilling from the machine. She tried to make sense of the diagrams, but without being able to examine it more closely it was all just squiggly lines to her untrained eye. “Perhaps it’s a mechanical fault?” she offered.

Twilight’s eyes lit up. “Hey, that could be it. Excuse me, everypony, did someone adjust the jewelometer?”

“Oh, that was me!” Peppermint said eagerly. “The readout was getting a bit high so I adjusted the sensitivity.”

“Inform me beforehand if you need to make those changes please,” Twilight said evenly. The intern nodded in apology, unnoticed by Twilight who was already looking back at the data. “Alright, that makes sense. Hmm, this is promising...” she was muttering under her breath. “Instead of kilojewels it’s letting out gigajewels of energy... and lots of them...” Twilight grinned. “Okay, I can safely say this experiment has gone beyond my previous expectations. We’re on to something here everypony!”

The assembled scientific team cheered, except for the intern. “Uh...”

“Something wrong?” Celestia asked, noticing the green unicorn’s hesitance.

His eyes darted between the computing machine, the princess, and Twilight, who was growing increasingly worried at the intern’s expression. “I actually...” began the younger unicorn, before clearing his throat nervously. “I moved the dial... to, uh, Terajewels?”

Only Celestia’s sudden stillness betrayed her shock. Her protoge, however, was far more overt. “Y-you mean... this spell is generating nearly a thousand times the projected magical energy?!”

Peppermint’s grin grew panicked. “Y-yes? I suppose?”

Twilight fell back on her haunches, flummoxed. “How is that possible?” she demanded. “We can’t nearly be putting in so much energy into the crystal in the first place! Where is the excess coming from!?”

“You based your conversion enchantments off your findings from the Elements of Harmony,” Celestia reminded her student. “Perhaps there is more at work than we yet understand?”

“Maybe, but... I...” Twilight stopped her protests, stood still a moment and took a deep breath. “’Just because I don’t understand it doesn’t make it any less true’,” she muttered under her breath, calming down. Narrowing her eyes, however, she looked back up at the glowing crystal with a determined expression. “That doesn’t mean I’m not going to figure it out though. Everypony!”

The team looked to Twilight as she stepped up to the fore. “As you no doubt overheard, we’ve hit a snag – there’s too much energy we can’t account for. This is... well...” She trailed off, letting the frantic scrawling of the analytical machine speak for itself. She brought her hoof to her chin, her expression serious. “Keep monitoring the readouts, please,” she instructed. “And keep everything steady. I need a moment to think.”

As her protégé paced away, Celestia noticed a few of the scientists turning their faces to her – for guidance, she knew. Celestia smiled wide and reassuringly. “Exciting, isn’t it? Don’t let fear dissuade you, this experiment is in capable hooves.”

A few smiled in thanks, some even bowing their heads slightly, before they all resumed their places. Celestia lingered among them a while longer, for their sake, before turning and making her way to the capable hooves in question, which were currently pacing between tabulator readouts.

“Synergy doesn’t explain this,” Celestia heard Twilight mutter under her breath, glancing between the readouts and the tank. “It’s too much energy for two nodes to create. Three nodes, I could understand, with this resonance array three nodes could actually get out of hand, but...” Her eyes widened as a terrible realisation struck.

Under the water of the array, another chunk of newly formed crystal split and fell to the base of the tank.

“The... new crystals...” Twilight said slowly, with mounting dread. “… are a third node.”

A larger chunk pulled itself away, revealing the unchanged green gem beneath.

“And it’s growing bigger.”

The clicking of the machines sped further.

Twilight’s eyes went wide as her mind revealed the truth. “It’s going to cascade. Princess!”

Celestia closed her eyes a moment, calming the shot of alarm the news sent through her. She levitated Spike off her back and nodded in acknowledgment, donning the composure gleaned from centuries of crisis. “I see. First, remain calm.”

Twilight took several gulps of air. “Right. Calm.”

“Should we maybe… you know… evacuate?” Spike asked, twiddling his claws nervously.

“Possibly,” Celestia replied. A few scenarios played out in her head, but she set them aside temporarily. No sense in acting before she had all the information. “So, Twilight. What are our options?”

“I… well…” Twilight tapped her hooves nervously, eyes glancing upwards as she considered it. “The crystals being formed are acting as another node, and it’s resonating with the alpha and beta gems to produce far more energy than anticipated.” She bit her lip. “This is... this is really uncharted territory here, and I kind of want to see where it leads. The data being produced could hold so many secrets... but if I keep the experiment running, we’ll risk a cascade, and that’s assuming we can even keep venting the heat from that tank... but if I stop now, I’ll still have the mystery of how those gems are being formed hanging above my head...”

Twilight’s eyes sought out Celestia’s. “What do you think?”

Celestia paused a long moment. She looked over at the glowing array, its light harsher now than a moment before. So many opportunities sprung to her mind, so many applications and ways to advance the lives of her ponies… and the world even beyond that…

But it wasn’t her decision. “It’s your call, Twilight.” It had to be. Celestia knew it couldn’t be any other way, so she stepped back and gave Twilight some room to think.

Twilight’s mind near-visibly raced through the options. “We… we keep the experiment running...” she said to herself, voice desperate. “Maybe deactivate some of the amplifiers? Agh, but that would add too many variables to the data... but there’s already unknown factors, it’s spontaneously spouting gemstones for pete’s sake... and the risks…”

She swallowed. “Shut it down now to avoid a potential accident and spend months – maybe years! – recalculating and rebuilding to accommodate for an unknown factor... or keep it running despite the risks and reap groundbreaking data that could halve the time it’ll take for the next round of testing... what should I do?”

Celestia wasn’t fooled by the words. Twilight’s tone made it clear the decision she had made. Her clever unicorn’s legs trembled, and she stomped one weakly in protest to fortune’s decision. Her face twisted between confused, to desperate, to frustrated and angry, before finally settling on a heartbreaking mask of anguish… and acceptance. It was this heartbroken creature that looked up into Celestia’s eyes.

“We… we can try again, can’t we?” she asked, her plea small and helpless.

“Of course we can, Twilight.” Celestia said as reassuringly possible, forcing her not to embrace the mare. “I want to see this bear fruit just as much as you do.”

Twilight held her gaze for several moments longer, then swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. Turning, she trotted towards the scientists, clearing her throat to catch their attention. “Okay, I want everypony to remain calm and work quickly. I’ve just realised that the crystal being formed isn’t a normal gem, it’s actually acting as a node – that’s why the experiment is putting out energy orders of magnitude above our predictions. I don’t know why another node has spontaneously formed, but for all we know it’s going to sprout another fourth node and cascade on us. We need to shut the experiment down before that happens, and gather as much data about it as we do. Everybody clear?”

The team responded in the affirmative, nervous mumbling all around. To this, Twilight puffed out her chest, donning all the confidence and authority she had gleaned from her adventures in with her friends. “Come on, everypony! We’re going to figure this out!” Murmurs of agreement followed, and they set to work.

Trusting Twilight to the rest, Celestia turned her attention to the array and stared into the spiralling energy before her. Faintly, she overheard her student discuss procedure, but it was the experiment that had her full focus. As the ponies scrambled about disengaging the machines, she admired the pulsating magic with a thoughtful air, her mind dancing with the possibilities.

‘Almost certainly, this can be a power source… like bottled lightning, but safer, perhaps? So long as this cascade is controlled… but then, the Elements of Harmony can be controlled, can they not? It will be difficult but it’s still possible…’ A realisation rose in her mind in time with the pulse of magic. ‘Then… all that matters is the nodes they are connected to. And those could be anything. Laughter could power a lamp. Kindness could fortify spells of healing and potions...’

The applications were endless. It was like... the sun, nourishing all.

Celestia’s thoughts themselves began to cascade. The sun. The sun that was so intrinsically tied to her life, that rejuvenated the world with its rays as it rejuvenated Celestia’s lifeforce with its presence.

Her longevity could well be explained through her protégé’s theories. And if they could be understood by a mare as fiercely intelligent as Twilight, could they, perhaps, not be also... replicated?

Many had tried, in the past, tying their lives to gems and artifacts both blessed and vile in an attempt to snub the reaper the copper bit he was due. But no matter how intricate and beautiful a spider spins their silk, it can never be more than a cobweb to be broken and brushed aside by the wolf and the raven.

The structure was there, but not the strength.

But if the structure could be sustained by a source of magic generation comparable to the sun itself...

The light of the experiment washed over the princess, and the laboratory was gone.

Celestia turned sharply, and there she was – in the field of dreams, beneath the fruit tree where…

Where the dream of her unicorn rested beside her, framed by the crimson setting sun. Floating before her was the succulent red fruit, dripping juice from where Celestia had savoured a bite the night previous. The unicorn brought it to her lips, just as the weary sun slipped below the distant horizon… and took a bite, teeth sinking into her discovery.

She chewed, slowly, and swallowed, licking her lips as she murmured in approval. “Tastes of…”

“Ambrosia,” Celestia breathed out, her throat parched. The sky grew light, and the sun rose, bright and joyous behind the unicorn, the sky painted with the colours of twilight at dawn.

Celestia understood, once more, fully. “You would confine yourself to the garden?” she asked, her heart aching.

The unicorn rested her head against Celestia’s neck, sighing contentedly. “How is this confinement?”

The sun rose, and the day grew long. The red leaves rustled softly in the gentle breeze. The air was cool and fresh.

All of this went unnoticed by the alicorn, who was warmed by the intoxicating touch of the lavender unicorn pressed into her side. Their hooves were intertwined, hopelessly tangled, and the mare’s sweet face was so, so close, nuzzling her neck, whispering kisses against her jaw. The alicorn lowered her head, pressing her nose against the unicorn’s, and there they remained, perfectly still, neither daring to move. Pull away, a heart would break. Press forward, a heart might shatter.

The vital moment was robbed by approaching hoof-falls. The alicorn looked up to see her dark reflection, a midnight-blue mare with a mane dashed with stardust. Surprise was written clear across her face, and that was jarring enough to, finally, draw Celestia back into herself.

“I -!” Celestia’s voice seized up. Guilt and shame chased away her contentment, the reality of how wrong her dream was brought into sharp focus now that another bore witness to it, now that she could no longer hide from it. “I didn’t... I didn’t mean for this to happen...”

~{C}~

The door to Celestia’s chambers came to a close with a soft click. Twilight spared one last glance, feeling a longing to return, but instead tore herself away and hurried down the hallway. She had a job to do.

Her mind turned to the task at hand, mentally putting together her to-do list. Her horn lit as she walked down the winding stairs of Celestia’s tower, and she disappeared with a flash of rose magic, impatient to get the job done. When the light faded from her eyes a moment later, she was in her own chambers. Her bed was made, indicating the servants had done their rounds, but a glance at her generous desk standing below the north window assured her none had tampered with her things – it was as meticulously disorganised as she had left it.

She shrugged her shoulders, working out a kink in her neck, and approached the worktop, snatching up a quill, ink, and a leaf of parchment as she did. Her checklist from earlier in the morning rested nearby, Spike’s neat quillmanship spelling out in black and white her task.

Item one: Take care of Celestia ***SUPER IMPORTANT***

Twilight sighed. ‘But I sure got out of there quick, didn’t I? Because…’

Item Two: Speak with fellow researchers.

Her gut twisted into a knot of dread. What was that going to be like? Showing up in front of everyone. “Hey guys!” Twilight said aloud, picturing her team’s scowling and upset faces. “So, I know everyone’s a little tense today, but it could have been worse! I mean, so we blew up the princess. Big deal! She’s cool with it! The point is… is…”

Her fake grin faded, her face twisting into a frustrated scowl. “… is that I don’t know what went wrong!” she exclaimed, pounding a hoof on the table.

It was impossible. It made no sense.

“I don’t understand… I just…”

“I don’t understand…” Twilight breathed, staring in disbelief at the array. It pulsed with light – weaker, now, but growing steadily brighter. “Are you sure you’ve-?”

“Yes, I’m sure! We’ve insulated the connections, we’ve disengaged the amplifiers, we’ve broken the rune layout. The array is off.” Scroll bit the inside of his cheek.

“I think the array would disagree,” Twilight said, narrowing her eyes as her experiment impossibly continued to generate energy. “What’s the output?”

“Average, but rising steady!” Peppermint called. The intern tapped a nervous green hoof against the machine, vainly hoping it was faulty. “What do we do?”

“Remove the lightning gem, duh,” Thunderlane piped in.

“That thing is actively conducting electricity,” Dusty Scroll responded, stern. “If you want to, be my guest, but don’t look at me when you get a thunderbolt through your skull for your trouble.”

Twilight rolled her eyes and turned to the team, a disapproving look on her face. “That’s enough, guys. Now is not the time to fight. There’s a simple solution for this.”

Twilight turned to look at Celestia, who was staring deep into the light of the array. Her eyes reflected the light and literally shined, but there was something deeper, some nuance that gave Twilight the impression that the princess saw something in the situation that Twilight didn’t… or couldn’t. As childish as it was, Twilight felt reassured thanks to her princess’ wisdom, even in the face of this problem. “Princess?”

Celestia blinked and looked over at Twilight, moving slowly as if dazed. “Hmm? Yes, Twilight?”

“Princess, the…” Twilight paused. Celestia’s expression had barely changed, her eyes still lit with the signs of silent discovery and recognition of something beyond her. Twilight had seen her eyes filled with something similar, such as pride at her progress with her studies when she was a student, but this… this was deeper…

Expectation? Hope? Twilight nearly cringed. Whatever it was Celestia was looking for, Twilight couldn’t bring it to her, not today.

“Princess, the experiment… it’s not shutting down. We’ve done everything, and all we did was slow it for a little while.”

“Fascinating…” Celestia breathed out, sounding impressed.

“Yes,” Twilight agreed. “But it’s going to cascade if we don’t do something quick.”

Celestia nodded in understanding. “I am suddenly reminded of our meeting, when you were a filly. You had lost control of your magic and it began to cascade inside and around you….” The far-away look vanished, replaced with calm authority. “This strikes me as similar. The magic needs to be bled off, grounded.”

“How?” Twilight asked, though she was beginning to picture it herself. “Ground the lightning gem and flash-freeze the heat gem, cutting out the means the magic is Resonating by?”

“That would help,” Celestia said. “But there’s a quicker solution, the exact same I did for you. A technique to re-establish magical harmony, no matter how haywire.”

Twilight could have smacked herself, it was so simple. “Oh, of course! The failsafe spell!”

“Alright everypony, stand back!” she ordered. The team retreated, perhaps a bit further than was warranted, sliding nervously until they had put the princess and her between them and the array. Twilight rolled her eyes. ‘So much for solidarity,’ she sighed mentally. “Right.”

Aiming her horn at the array, she shut her eyes and recalled the spell she had learned all those years ago, in an attempt to straighten out the magical havoc that later transpired to be Discord’s doing. Had pure chaos not been the perpetrator, the spell would have worked wonderfully, being designed to untangle haywire spells and reverse magic, as if it had never been cast in the first place.

Violet soared from her horn, soaring over the array and soaking into it as a soothing balm. For a moment, her magic mingling with the array, she could feel it – something like music, with a tempo in time with her heartbeats and a tune she knew was familiar. It didn’t feel like a haywire spell, it felt beautiful, silky and intricate and… and for now, Twilight reminded herself, for now it needed to be muted.

She pushed her failsafe spell into the melody, intertwining them, then let go. A flash of light announced its completion, and Twilight opened her eyes once more to see the array grow dark.

All was calm, with only the soft hum of the water pumps remaining in the air. Twilight let out a sigh of relief and turned back to grin at her fellow researchers –

Then the tabulators clattered a cacophony of clicking calculations, spewing reams of punchpaper and oscillating graphs as a terrifying screech called out behind her.

“No, that’s impossible!” Twilight whipped her head around to confirm her fears – the array was a blaze of light once more, heavy chords of lightning lancing from the podium, scraping the walls and pillars around.

On reflex, Twilight’s eyes darted to the princess, but Celestia’s expression showed equal shock and confusion.

The princess couldn’t fix this one.

But then, she shouldn’t. This was Twilight’s responsibility.

Her horn flared bright – if she could knock the lightning gem out of place, then maybe –

With a determined scowl, she fired a bolt of rose magic from her horn on a collision course with the gem.

A flash of light blinded her, then...

Chaos.

Screaming.

A gasp of pain and the smell of burning…

Twilight was on the ground, panting heavily, her heart seized with terror. A white flurry of feathers filled her vision. Immobilised by fear and shock, it was several eternal moments before Twilight’s mind pieced together what had happened.

The tendrils of lightning, they had… coalesced, snapped together into one thick branch in reaction to that arrow of magic. It had arched forward, snatching it from the air, consuming it – then had lashed forward for its source. Twilight had seen it, a flash of death heading towards her –

And Celestia had stepped in its way.

‘Careless, careless, careless…’ Twilight scolded herself, shoving notes and quills from her desk into a saddlebag.

‘Careless about what?’ something in her asked.

"Everything!" she all but shouted. Now was no time for her mind to question her! It was obvious! She should have done more extensive checks, she should have known it wasn’t ready for large-scale production, she should have had better safeguards, she, she, she...

She should just admit what was really bothering her.

“Celestia’s too smart... she’ll figure it out...” Twilight paced the room, her mind throwing up ideas. “She’ll know what really happened, she’ll find out eventually, before I can explain it properly, and...” She closed her eyes, letting out a shuddering sigh. “I was careless.”

The nagging voice fell silent.

Twilight opened her eyes again and set her jaw. Nothing for it now but to dig in and find out just how deep the hole she'd dug herself was going to be...

Her horn lit, and she pictured sturdy stone walls, echoing hallways whispering the promise of knowledge. Light surged around her, a whip-crack snapped in the air as she turned…

And then she was there, flooded by nostalgia as she stood before the gates of her old school – Princess Celestia’s Academy for Gifted Unicorns. Merely being here, in this place where she had devoted all her early years… it reassured her.

Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns was more than just a school for young unicorns learning magic. It was Celestia’s jewel, a place of enlightenment and learning. As such, it was divided into two facilities – the Academy, for young unicorns of all social statuses to train for the betterment of all Equestria, and the University, home to college students and researchers alike.

Further, the school extended beyond just one single building. Rather, it was divided into two vast wings that connected by way of the Barracks Square, the eldest building where administration resided, which looked out onto a grassy quad which students superstitiously avoided treading on. The younger students occupied the west wing and the classrooms beyond, looking out onto Canterlot as they learned not just of magic, but history and culture, science and ethics. The east wing, looking out onto the wider plains of Equestria, served as the crown of the college campus, its simple and unpretentious limestone and mortar watching over the newer buildings that cropped up as the grounds continually extended. Once, Twilight had associated it with Celestia, proud, eternal and nurturing. Now, she wasn’t so sure.

Save for Celestia’s Tower in the castle, Barrack’s Square was the oldest structure in Canterlot – perhaps even Equestria. However, one wouldn’t know that to look at it. It had begun life as a fort and barracks built to reinforce the castle defences, and in a round-about way acted as the foothold from which the city of Canterlot sprung.

Twilight had, now and again, heard jokes or paranoid whispers about how a building formerly created for soldiers was now being used to educate foals. The irony – or perhaps simply dissonance – was not lost on Twilight, but she actually found it appropriate. In more vulnerable times, there was a need for defence. Now, there was a need for education, for research and for advancement. So, just as Canterlot Keep had grown from Celestia’s Tower as new halls, vaults, wings and gardens were added over the centuries, so too did the academy grow out of the old and abandoned fortress, becoming a symbol of Equestria’s aspirations.

The world turned to face the new day, as it always did. The fort had lost its old meaning for existence, but it hadn’t been left behind. Perhaps that was why Twilight now felt a strange kinship with it.

Standing there, in the green just outside of the shadow cast by the ancient building, Twilight felt her breath hitch and her ribs grow tight as she was overcome by a rush of... not nostalgia, but something close. She studied the facade of the old barracks. Well maintained, old classical style, but certainly no masterpiece. It had never presumed to be. So why did she care?

Because she was buying time. Twilight closed her eyes, and saw the fire.

Fire. One of the machines had caught fire, adding another terrible dimension to the disaster. A warm, still weight pressed against her as her terrified mind finally put the pieces together.

Celestia had taken the blow for her.

“Princess Celestia!” she screamed in alarm, pushing herself to her hooves and out from beneath Celestia’s protective wing. She heard the clatter of hooves behind her, her team rushing to help, the breathless sound of magic being prepared.

Celestia’s head snapped up suddenly. “Nopony use magic!” she barked, her voice carrying the weight of the Royal Canterlot Voice. Everypony froze, staring wide eyed at the princess, whose body was tense and whose eyes were locked on the array. “Nopony let even a single spark from your horns. The lightning is seeking it out.”

Twilight turned to look at them. “Everypony, we’re evacuating. Grab whatever you can and vacate the lab immediately.”

“But we-!” Dusty Scroll began to protest, but Twilight shook her head firmly, cradling Celestia’s head in her forelegs. He bit his lip, torn with indecision, but in the end followed orders and began snatching up readouts and research along with everypony else.

Twilight’s attention lingered on the scientist a moment longer, before returning to Celestia. The princess’ face was curled up in pain, but it was less that of agony, and more of a wince. Cracking open an eye, she pulled herself up from her crouch with Twilight’s help and gingerly twitched her wing. “Ah, that rather smarts…” she said, almost cheerful. The smell of burnt hair wafted into Twilight’s nose, causing her stomach to turn.

“Y-you’re hurt…”

“I’m fine. It was a glancing blow, and will heal quickly.” She looked back over at the traitorous array snarled menacingly, but seemed too lazy for a second strike. “We’ve got a bigger problem.”

“It’s cascading,” Twilight said, her breath quickening.

Celestia nodded slowly. “How can it be stopped?”

“Um.” Twilight hesitated, jittery from fear on the princess’ behalf. “Bleed off the excess power. Ground the lightning, chill the heat gem. It can’t resonate if there’s nothing to resonate with.”

“Understood,” Celestia nodded, her eyes scanning for a means to achieve this.

“I’ll…” Twilight began… but stopped. She couldn’t use magic. She’d just be in the way here. The only thing she could do was… “I’ll make sure everyone gets out safe.”

Celestia smiled despite everything. “I’m counting on you, Twilight.”

Twilight fought back a sob, and nodded. She turned and galloped towards the exit, scooping Spike up on her back along the way and kicking the doors open for her team. There she lingered, counting them off, making sure every last one was safe – and staring at her princess, who was pacing towards the array, purpose in her gait.

‘It’s going to be okay,’ Twilight knew. Celestia would solve it. They would figure it out. It was all going to be okay.

Naive. Naive, naive.

Naive to believe the princess was invincible, that she could solve everything.

Hadn’t she heard the fear in her voice as she spoke of Discord?

Hadn’t she seen her fall before Chrysalis, overestimating her own strength?

Hadn’t she spent enough time in her company, seeing secret cues and sharing secret moments that revealed that Celestia was a mare capable of doubt and error?

‘But it wasn’t her error. It was mine. My experiment, my responsibility.’ Her research, her life’s work to this point... had failed, and both the laboratory and the princess lay as shattered, burnt testaments to the scope of her failure.

She didn’t want to see it, didn’t want to consider it. The thought of having to start again, from scratch, made her knees grow weak and her heart clench and knot. Of course, that was the worst case scenario – logically, something would be salvageable. Something had to be salvageable.

Maybe this was just a day for re-evaluation. Of... many things. As places went, the Academy was an excellent place for that sort of self-reflection.

She had changed. When she was a filly, Twilight would look across the green, watching as the big ponies would go to and fro the college campus, wondering what amazing discoveries they were making. Occasionally one of them would wave to her, and she’d quickly look at the ground or at a book she was reading, too self-conscious to return the greeting.

A pony could spend their whole life here – residing in the dormitory, taking part of the junior and senior classes, then graduating, moving on to the college campus, studying and eventually producing a thesis, then working on research in the laboratories. A neat, efficient life. If she had never moved to Ponyville, would she have been the same?

‘No,’ Twilight halted those thoughts. ‘Celestia would never have allowed that to happen.’

For a moment, Twilight felt like a filly again, awkward and clumsy, praying the princess wouldn’t notice her fumble with her quill and books. It took all that she had to shake the memories of those tiny embarrassments off.

Instead, she continued on her way, weaving through the faculty buildings and cutting through a few shortcuts out of habit until she finally arrived at the magical science facility. Her stomach trembled, full of imaginary butterflies, as she trotted around the corner of the facility, heading directly to...

There they were. The four laboratory buildings. Three stood proud, their smooth, dark concrete facades inviting the observer to wonder what new innovation was hiding inside. The fourth...

Twilight tilted her head, examining it from a distance. It looked broken and tired. Segregated from the rest of the buildings by a perimeter of yellow ‘Caution!’ rope, it almost seemed to have been put on show – perhaps one titled ‘The Unicorn’s Folly’. Cracks ran along the facade as the walls seemed to threaten to be split in two. What few windows remained were cracked and stained black. Half the roof was gone, just blown completely off, with lonely rafters jutting from the soot-stained walls. A shattered, burnt ribcage.

And yet, the laboratory stood. Twilight resolved to treat that as a good omen.

She resumed her trot, pulling her identification out of her saddlebag and looping the string around her neck, making sure the attached card was facing the right way. Ducking under the yellow rope, she walked towards the laboratory. A security guard nodded to her, recognising her face. “You’re here early, Miss Sparkle.”

Twilight laughed self-consciously. “Well, you know. Returning to the scene of the crime and all. I thought I’d get it out of the way.”

The guard barked out a laugh. “If only actual criminals were as considerate as you.” He paused, and his face grew solemn. “If I may ask, how is the princess doing?”

Twilight had expected this, but hadn’t counted on the rush of emotion she felt, the mere mention of Celestia drawing her back into memories of yesterday’s rollercoaster events. “She’s well,” she managed to say. The guard looked less than reassured, so Twilight reigned in her expression. “Really, she’s well. She’s resting today, but she’s still been up and about, as usual. She says the headache is the worst part of it.”

The guard let out a small sigh of relief – and, Twilight realised, amazement. He had probably been guarding the burnt out building all night, growing increasingly worried as his mind translated the damage the building had suffered to what must have happened to the princess.

“Tell me, is anypony else around?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Not yet,” the guard replied with a shake of his head.

“That’s strange.” Twilight frowned. She turned her head and spotted a clock face on one of the old buildings. ‘Eleven-forty? But the princess is never wrong about the time… then again, head trauma, ugh…’ “That’s fine,” she decided with a shrug. “When the team arrives, send them in, please?”

The guard nodded. “Of course, you can just head right in. Here, make sure to wear this.” He bent over and picked up a yellow safety helmet, which she put on without argument and tried not to imagine how ridiculous it looked.

Twilight thanked him and trotted forward towards the doors. One of them was hanging nearly off its hinges, torn by some great force.

Not from the explosion, Twilight knew. From her.

They ran, galloping as fast as their hooves could carry them. Fearful tears clouded her vision, so it was the feeling of fresh air chilling her sweat-dampened coat that alerted her to the fact that they had left the building. Still, she galloped on, putting distance between herself and the laboratory.

The ground ceased shaking and Twilight, stupidly, slowed down, glancing over her shoulder. For a moment, everything was silent, almost anti-climactic.

“I-is it over?” Scroll asked, before breaking into a cough.

“What do we do?”

“Okay...” Twilight muttered, her mind racing. “Okay.” She looked up at the pegasi members of the team who were hovering above her nervously. “You all go alert security to the situation. Get them to form a perimeter.” They nodded quickly and flew off in a blur of colour towards the quad. “Peppermint, get admin to warn students of what happened, and to avoid the area.” The intern saluted awkwardly and fled towards the Barracks, and Twilight turned to the rest of the team.”Everypony else, we —”

Without warning, sound, force and heat hit Twilight all at once, picking her up and casting her aside. Somehow, she managed to hit the ground rolling, and reflexively cast a shield. Adrenaline and instinct overrode her years of restraint, and the resulting rose-tinted dome bloomed out well wide enough to shelter the entire group of scattered, stunned ponies.

It was a good thing, too – in short order debris began to rain from the sky, roof tiles and chunks of stone peppering the magical barrier over their heads. Though sprawled out with her eyes tightly shut, Twilight could nevertheless feel the impacts of the detritus as they tried to push past the influence of her magic. They petered out quickly, and after another minute of concentration, Twilight decided it was safe, dropping the spell.

‘Piano was worse,’ was all her addled mind could muster as she struggled to her hooves. Squinting, she searched for Spike and saw him rising to his feet, looking dazed but otherwise unhurt. Dragons were tough, even as children.

She saw his mouth moving, but heard nothing but a piercing whine layered over the dull roar of the ocean. Slowly, the ringing in her ears subsided, and the roar shifted from the ocean... into fire.

The laboratory was up in flames. Smoke was billowing up from the building, a steadily growing column of ash climbing into the sky.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Twilight galloped towards it. “Princess!”

Something tugged her off the ground, and she found herself wrapped in a magical aura. She heard somepony shout something, begging her to stop, but she ignored it. Her horn glowed, and she vanished, reappearing right in front of the shattered lab’s doors. With no time to lose, she ripped the door out of the way with a forceful wrench of magic and dived into the smoke.

Twilight walked into the laboratory, parallel with her memories. She saw herself rush into the smoke and flames with only a thin barrier of magic for a cloak and her familiarity with the lab for a map. She followed the panicked mare through the building, trotting the short distance to the hall which had housed her ill-fated experiment.

Stepping through the broken door, she found herself in a vision of broken hope – her laboratory, a shattered ruin of what had stood the day before. She let her eyes wander the room, shocked at the extent of the damage – the walls were cracked from the impact of flying pieces of equipment and blackened by soot. Sunlight streamed from a gaping hole in the roof, the only real source of light the hall had, seeing as most of the magic daylight panels overhead were cracked and broken. Twilight tip-hooved carefully through the glass on the ground, her heart wrenching in sorrow as she looked upon the devastation.

She trotted past the ruined tabulators, letting out a disappointed hiss through her clenched teeth at the sight of the burnt equipment and the ash that no doubt once held valuable data. Setting the matter aside, she navigated the rubble until she stood before the twisted metal remains of her array, bent beyond any repair.

The circle of pillars around it had been totally demolished, remaining only as stone chunks littering the hall. She gingerly stepped over a more or less intact pillar as she made her way through the room, eyeing it as her mind made some idle calculations. It had to weigh almost a tonne, if not more… and it had been blown halfway through the room.

‘And Celestia was in the middle of it all…’ She marvelled at her mentor’s resilience despite herself, eyes studying the grey concrete of the broken column. On one end, there was an odd brown stain, confusing her slightly. ‘Rust? On stone?’

She froze, her body coming to a halt, fearful of going any further. But she couldn’t stop herself from looking up, searching for another brown stain that she knew couldn’t be far away –

There, on the ground close by, another dull rusty splatter. Though filled with dread, Twilight pressed forward, her hooves guided with a terrible sense of inevitability. After all, she had traced this path before, just the day before.

She stepped over another chunk of detritus, and took stock of the dreadful sight before her.

A dark, flaky rusted stain covered the ground before her. Twilight’s head spun just to look at it, to know what it meant. This had been where…

“Princess!”

Her force field was poor protection in the blaze, but Twilight barely noticed. Heat was weighing down on her coat, smoke was curling around her barrier, but still she screamed, praying for a response. “Princess Celestia!”

Nothing but the roar of flames answered her, her ambitions burning around her. She pressed on, cantering forward through a relatively safe path through a row of tabulators. She shrieked, terrified, as even her very equipment betrayed her – the tabulators exploded around her, pelting her barrier with shards of glass and chunks of their clunky casing. She skidded to a halt and crouched low, taking in quick and shallow breaths near the floor where the air was still fresh and shoring up her force field, just as her brother had taught her long ago.

“This is a deathtrap…” she moaned, involuntarily shivering. The world was bright and red and angry, taunting her. She could barely move, her limbs begging her to turn around and flee, or to cover her eyes and cry, her rationality evaporating fast as an ice cube in the face of the inferno. Her breath quickened, her mind overcome by insidious, primal fear, and…

And Celestia was waiting for her.

Gritting her teeth, blinking tears from her eyes that quickly vanished into the heat, Twilight rose, her determined face lit by the glowing of her horn. A spell came to mind, a wind spell…

The fires raged before her, fear drawn from that primal part of her.

Celestia hovered in her mind’s eye, fear drawn from something so much more fundamental.

She weaved that fear into the spell, two songs of terror beating in sympathy with one another, Resonating with one another –

Her horn surged with light and the smoke and flames were driven back by a cold and bitter wind spiralling out from her barrier. In an instant most of the fires were quenched and not soon after that the smoke began to clear, the enchanted winds funnelling the thick black clouds out through the gaping hole in the roof.

Her vision now clear, Twilight peered desperately around the room, searching for her mentor, hoping against all hope that Celestia would just appear, brushing dust from her hair and wearing that smile that promised all was well with the world.

A crooked white wing sticking out from the rubble across the room silenced those naive hopes. “Princess Celestia!” she screamed, the blunt knife called horror carving her heart from her body. She galloped full kilter towards the crumpled white mass, her magic tossing detritus out of her path and away from the princess’ form.

Celestia was a vision beyond Twilight’s comprehension. Not proud, instead a broken omen of a world ushered in by Twilight’s own hoof. The burn from the lightning bolt sat angrily on her side, vicious and red and weeping. Her wings stuck at odd angles, which Twilight’s terror-stricken mind interpreted as ‘shall never fly again’, and even her mane lay in tangles over her, robbed of its ephemeral billowing.

And her face… Twilight couldn’t bear to look away. Celestia’s face was drenched in blood from a wide gash across her forehead. It pooled where her head slumped on the concrete, slowly spreading out and even staining her lifeless mane a shocking crimson.

And her eyes… half-open and staring at nothing.

“This is wrong…” Twilight shuddered, shaking her head in denial. “This can’t… Celestia!”

Rushing into the crimson pool, she registered with faint awareness that her hooves become stained by the blood of her immortal mentor. She dropped to the ground and scooped Celestia’s head up, cradling it gently between her forelegs as her eyes scanned her body for signs of life. She buried her head into her fallen princess’ neck, pressing her ear hard against her in search for a pulse, ignoring the horrible slickness of the blood staining her face as she did so.

There was nothing there; nothing her panic-riddled mind could sense as a pulse over the roar of adrenaline in her own veins, nothing her untrained eyes could decipher as a blessing. Half a dozen books on first-aid swam before her mind’s eye, hazy and indistinct, eluding comprehension as she continued to stare at Celestia’s vacant eyes. Dull, still, glass imitations of the vibrant and quick pools of wisdom she knew so well.

This couldn’t be possible, Twilight knew. This couldn’t be happening. In just a second, Celestia would blink, get up, and smile at her, she would. She was there to smile after Discord twisted all she held dear, they had danced together in her brother’s wedding reception on the eve of the victory over the changeling queen… how could this be different?

She didn’t know… She didn’t know what to do!

“P-Princess…!” she croaked out, her mouth opening and closing in a fruitless attempt to grasp this. “I-I need to…”

Purpose ignited her, and the first-aid books in her memories rose open at her disposal. Still cradling Celestia’s head, Twilight shifted her crumpled body onto her back with a push of telekinesis, painfully reminded of how her princess was easily twice her own bulk. Twilight paused, scanning her memories, and caught a few breaths, trying to hear the roar of her own heartbeat over her terror. Thinking, or imagining, she could feel the pulses, she pressed a knot of magical force to Celestia’s chest and began to push in time, a desperate attempt at resuscitation.

Twilight pressed her muzzle against Celestia’s, covering her lips with hers, and breathed, pouring herself into her mentor, that perhaps her soul could reignite her goddess’ life.

“Get up,” Twilight begged between breaths, her wretched whine echoing through the hall. “Please, princess… get up.” The world wouldn’t make sense until she did, it couldn’t make sense until she did, it –

“I can’t… you can’t be… I can’t lose you, please…” Her head jerked forward, her muzzle meeting her princess’ for another desperate breath, her eyes desperately searching those dead glass pools for a spark. “Please, I need…”

She nuzzled her snout against her mentor’s, tears blurring her vision…

She was gone. There was nothing. Twilight was alone, more alone than she ever could have comprehended. Her determined fire spluttered out, extinguished by the terrible tide of reality, leaving her clutching her goddess in the cold, ruined chamber of her folly, her hopes and her heart torn from her life and tossed into the empty pits of Celestia’s glassy, dead eyes.

Her muzzle was still pressed against her mentor’s, even as tears took pity and mercifully obscured the vision before her.

A sickly twist in the ragged hole of her soul whispered in Twiight’s ear, reminding her of things long thought forgotten, long thought resolved.

The dam broke. Devoid of forethought or reason, she pressed her lips to Celestia’s once more, this time, as a kiss.

There was no passion, no declaration, no quintessential understanding crystallized in that moment. There was only need, a sudden surging need she poured into her Celestia as one kiss became a dozen, prayers and bargains and pleas whispered between hollow kisses and wretched sobs in a hopeless bid to breathe life back into a broken idol.

“Don’t go, don’t go. Don’t leave me, please!” she mewled, weak and pathetic to her own ears. “Please, there’s still so much to, to say. I...!”

Her muzzle moved into Celestia again, and this time there was passion, a flare of honest and desperate emotion as everything Twilight had left unsaid, everything she had let go so many years ago rushed to be realised, a last frantic scramble as hope slipped from her hooves and threatened to plummet into reality’s cruel ravine.

She ignored the fact that Celestia did not, could not, respond. She set aside the truth that mashing of lips was a parody of all her shameful fantasies. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered in that moment. Only Twilight’s needy kisses held a semblance of meaning, her sobs becoming silent as she held her broken mentor’s lips in her own, still and insistent.

Blood soaked her coat and its scent cloyed around her, and now they were joined by the stomach-turning taste of it in Twilight’s mouth. She drank it in, her mind frantic for some affirmation of Celestia, some proof of existence, something to wipe away the guilt and horror of what she had done.

Still she found nothing.

The kiss, if it could even be called that, broke, and Twilight pulled Celestia into the crook of her neck, cradling her as her tears fell on her bloody white coat, a futile attempt to wash it all away.

A small part of her, struck by the enormity of what she had just done, told her to pull back, to distance herself from it. She had lived this long in denial – how could she bear to live if her affections did not match the princess’? But that mindset… it was meaningless now, in a world with no Celestia at all. “I never told you…” she sobbed, her face a mess of tears and bloodstains. Inevitable as the sunset, Twilight pressed her lips again to Celestia’s, begging now for forgiveness.

“I kept it from you.” Twilight wept into Celestia’s mane, breaking down completely. “I was going to keep it as long as I lived, but… oh Celestia. Please wake up. Please be alive, I’ll… no more secrets, I promise. I’ll tell you everything, just please don’t leave me!”

Lost, her hooves ran through the limp strands of her beloved mentor’s mane, her eyes once more drawn to her sightless gaze.

Twilight gasped, her heart stopping. Celestia’s eyes… had shut. She dared not to breathe, fearful she would break what was surely a spell or illusion… but after a long, tense moment, she saw her mentor’s eyelid twitch. “C-Celestia?”

Sounding more beautiful than a choir of angels, Celestia breathed out a pained groan. “Twilight…?”

“Yes! I’m here!” Twilight exclaimed, relief and joy shooting through her body. “I’m –!” She laughed, near hysterical, and brought her into a tight hug, her tears continuing to fall in the face of the miracle. “Oh thank goodness. Oh Celestia, I t-thought...!”

In her embrace, Celestia began to weakly pull away. “’lements…” she groaned.

Twilight pulled back, letting her see her mentor. “What? What do you need, Princess?”

Celestia’s eyes opened, though they did not meet Twilight’s. Instead they wandered the room, unfocused, one pupil lazily growing larger than the other. “We, you… can’t let them… the Elements, only…” Her voice was weak and slurred, struggling over the words.

“The Elements of Harmony?” Twilight frowned, the wave of relief fading in the face of her princess’ needs. “You want me to get the Elements of Harmony?”

Hearing the question, Celestia’s eyes wandered back to her. “Twilight…?”

“I-I’m here,” Twilight affirmed. Her mind began to respond to Celestia’s need, and the once hazy textbooks in her mind became focused with crystal clarity, and they all told her one thing – despite the fact that the worst had been avoided, Celestia was still seriously hurt, and needed immediate medical attention.

“Hang on, princess.” Her horn glowed, and a blanket of rose magic swept over Celestia’s body, plucking her from the pool of blood and lifting her firmly in the air.

Celestia’s eyes went wide, filled with panic, and she began to struggle against the grip of Twilight’s magic. “N-no!”

“Princess! Princess, calm down!” Twilight begged, struggling to hold her mentor in place as her struggles became more frantic. “You’re going to be okay! Everything is…”

Celestia’s lip curled into a growl as her wings suddenly snapped forward. “Get off me!”

Twilight ducked reflexively, but was still bowled over as the tips of her wings pushed her aside. Recovering from her tumble, Twilight stayed close to the ground and tried to wriggle away. Panic tightened her throat more effectively than a noose – pegasi were descended from warriors. Their wings had enough power to break even an earth pony’s legs and send gryphons falling crippled out of the sky. Twilight held absolutely no illusions of what would have happened if Celestia’s wing made full contact with her body. A twig in autumn, snapped underhoof.

“You did this...” the princess groaned, her horn whipping around for a target. “I... I have to...the Elements, they... you can’t...”

“I-I’m sorry!” Twilight cried, backing away. “Celestia, I’m sorry, please! I never meant for this! I never meant to –!”

Hurt you? Kiss you?

Whatever her reply, it was silenced as Celestia took a pained step forward and found her legs crumple beneath her. She let out a cry of strangled shock, but instinctively curled and caught herself in a crouch that struck Twilight as terrifyingly familiar. Horn down, hind legs firm on the ground, a stance that Shining Armour had often shown off to Twilight during his days as a guard trainee. ‘The Bayonet,’ he had called it.

It suddenly occurred to Twilight how many ancient wars Celestia had personally battled in. And now, she was wounded and disorientated, surrounded by rubble and flames, and was too confused to recognise Twilight.

“Princess, please…” Twilight whispered, her voice hoarse. She shrank down, making herself as small as possible, ready to teleport at a moment’s notice but nevertheless begging Celestia for some kind of recognition.

Something in Celestia’s eyes changed…

A dark haze fell from the sky, salvation. Princess Luna appeared, a phantom in the flickering light of the flames as she drifted beside her sister. Shock clear on her face, Celestia reacted a second later, turning to face her but instead bringing herself right into Luna’s embrace. The dark mare whispered something into her sister’s ear, and then caught her as she slumped down, unconscious. Luna’s eyes wandered along Celestia’s wounds, before regarding Twilight with confusion and worry.

“Twilight Sparkle… what has happened here?”

Twilight shook her head in a futile attempt to banish the memory. She gasped, dragging air through her suddenly swollen throat and scrubbed her face with her hoof, soaking it with tears. “What are you crying about? You shouldn’t be crying…” Twilight half-snarled at herself. Yet Luna’s question rung still in her ears.

What happened?

She had been careless, that’s what, and her true self had finally been exposed.

It was her idol’s greatest hour of need, and Twilight hadn’t hesitated to take advantage of it. Celestia had been more vulnerable than ever before and instead of helping her, Twilight had forced herself onto her, acting out a fantasy and violating everything dear they shared, forsaking every privilege Celestia had ever offered her.

“I let this go…” Twilight said in weak protest. The blood before her refused to let her excuses carry.

“I let it go…” she whispered. That’s what she told her friends when the truth finally spilled out alongside fat, grieving tears all those years ago. That’s what she told herself, when she was finally able to write ‘Dear Princess Celestia’ without a pang of melancholy. That’s what she told herself, to shore up the foundations of her life, a life that had only really begun that first Summer Sun Celebration when Twilight witnessed a goddess soar, and realised ‘this is what love is.’

Heartbreak had nearly broken her very soul, but her friends, they showed her a new way. She was stronger, and she told herself she was over it. She told herself for years that the phase had passed and that every moment she spent with Celestia was honest, not some façade to worm her way into her mentor’s heart.

Now, she couldn’t deny it. Not here, in the wake of her selfishness, in the ruins of her folly. She still loved Celestia, and it was worse than ever. Her mind reeled as she thought of everything that had occurred –

Clinging to Celestia in the hospital, desperate for forgiveness without the courage to confess her crimes…

Crawling into bed beside her and pretending it was for Celestia’s sake…

Rolling around in her bed, so sickeningly happy that she could smell her on her coat, as if that meant anything, taking joy in Celestia’s weakness…

Bathing with her, that very morning! The very thought now made Twilight’s skin crawl as the scene played out before her, and she saw herself, in her mind’s eye… drifting off, staring longingly at Celestia, wishing it was her divine hooves on her back rather than the masseuse. Any chance, any chance she could find, Twilight would take it…

“That’s not what a friend is…” Twilight mumbled, the excuses and lies she had whispered to ease her conscience since the accident withering and dying in the face of reality. A friend of Celestia’s? How arrogant, how treacherous could she get? Nothing she had ever done was for her beloved mentor’s sake. It was all to pull the wool over her eyes, to sell her a glass diamond, to convince her of worth where there was none and fool her, somehow, into devoting herself to a selfish worm of a unicorn.

And the worst part of it all… Celestia had fallen for it! That unfaithful, pathetic excuse of a pony, the sneaky and selfish excuse for a student, she had won! Celestia called for her, shared intimate moments, pampered her with gifts and affection… The deception was complete, and Twilight… she had loved every moment of it!

Nausea gripped Twilight’s belly, and she couldn’t stop shuddering in revulsion. She needed a shower or, better yet, a cave far away where she could wallow until she was pure again. It was gone, that comfortable world where she told herself she had decided to let it go – naivety dressed up as maturity. She couldn’t indulge in Celestia’s ignorance any longer. She couldn’t… she couldn’t continue this betrayal.

She loved her. She was in love with Celestia, utterly and hopelessly so… but look at what love was twisting her into! It wasn’t love, it couldn’t be love, it was selfish and painful beyond imagination. If she ever wanted to be able to stand beside her without shrivelling up in shame or look into her beautiful, caring eyes again with a semblance of honesty, it had to end.

Lost in her spiralling thoughts, a voice made her jump in shock. “Miss Sparkle?”

She wiped her eyes with her hoof one final time and hoped her eyes weren’t too puffy or red as she turned. “Dusty. Hi. How are you?” she asked as politely as she could.

Dusty hesitated, somewhat unsure. “I’m fine, as is the rest of the team. They’ll be in shortly, I simply… ah…” He froze, his eyes fixed on the brown stain at Twilight’s feet. Visibly paling, Twilight could see by his increasingly distressed expression that he had realised what it was. “Is that where…?”

“Yes,” Twilight replied, forcing her voice out. What must it be like for a normal pony to realise Celestia could bleed? She swallowed hard, and scanned the room. “Is there a tarp somewhere? There’s no need to distress everyone with this, it’ll be a distraction.”

“Right, yes, of course.” He half-turned, eager to comply. Snatching one of the tarps at the edge of the room, he pulled it over the rusty stain and weighted it down with some rubble for safety’s sake. “Okay, that’s...” He mumbled, processing what he had just hidden. “That’s done. Is... is the princess...?”

“She’s okay,” Twilight supplied.

Dusty sagged with no small relief. “Oh thank heavens. Okay," He paused. "But, um, are… are you okay? You seemed, um, pretty upset yesterday.”

Twilight paused. “I… no,” she decided, settling on honesty. “I think I ruined everything yesterday. Even if we manage to pick up the pieces here... I was careless. Too careless. We can't carry on like before.”

“O-oh. Um…” Dusty Scroll bit his lip, at a loss for how to respond.

“Don’t worry about it.” Twilight cut off his condolences before they could be voiced. “All we can do now is see what can be salvaged. Come on… we’ve got work to do.”

~{C}~

In Luna’s experience, dreams revealed things not only fundamentally important, but also startlingly unexpected. Despite her teasing now and then on the nature of her sister’s relationship with Twilight Sparkle, Luna had never actually considered it the most likely possibility. But right before her eyes, she could see it – two mares, hooves entwined under the swaying red foliage of their fruit tree, their locked gaze smouldering.

The surprise she felt was two-fold, for not only was this outside of her expectations, she realised that a snare around her heart was uncoiling itself at the sight of them together.

Relief. Drinking in the quiet scene before her, Luna felt relief. Springing up in her mind’s eye was the memory of the night before. She had looked back at Twilight, her first true friend, the first in this new Equestria to accept her, and pleaded – nay, ordered, of all things, her to let go of Celestia…

Because things had never been the same after she woke from the Nightmare, neither to her subjects, nor between her and Celestia.

Because a charming and intelligent pony now stood in the centre of Celestia’s attentions, where a millennium ago there was nopony but Luna.

Because, when the nights were lonely, when she knew she could find her sister in her room reading reports and letters from one author in particular. When caught in the grip of melancholy, Luna had sometimes wondered what Celestia would have done had that unicorn not saved her. Would she instead have been her replacement?

The light of the morn brought shame to those fears, especially once she had befriended Twilight and found her bright and joyful, deserving of her sister’s attentions. So Luna lashed that shame and those regrets into a snare, holding back her rising jealousy and her fears that Celestia no longer needed her…

And now, there was no need for it, because Celestia had spoken true. Her love for her wayward sister had never wavered, and now Luna felt foolish for even thinking that the story of Twilight Sparkle and Celestia was anything more than a simple love story.

Her sister was so lost in the dream before her that she only noticed Luna’s approach when she was a mere stride away. Shock painted her expression at Luna’s intrusion, and the princess of dreams suddenly regretted intruding on the scene as her sister shied away, averting her gaze to poorly shield shame.

“I didn’t...” Celestia murmured softly, turning her face away. “I didn’t mean for this to happen...”

“You didn’t mean… what, exactly?” Luna asked, her light feeling slowly ebbing away at her sister’s uncharacteristic hesitance. “You didn’t mean to dream of her? You didn’t mean for your heart to desire somepony?”

Her sister looked up, magenta eyes filling with alarm. “No, this is… this is just a dream, sister,” Celestia said, catching herself, her gaze sliding back to the grass. “You gave me this dream.”

Luna slowly shook her head, denying escape. “I said it before, this is your dream. It is not my heart conjuring her.”

Celestia looked up at Luna once more, unsure… and the dream of a unicorn rested her head against her white wing, letting out a sleepy sigh.

Luna sighed. “Sister, stop this. I’ve seen it, you can’t really deny that…”

“It isn’t as it seems!” Celestia near-blurted out. “Luna, I’m simply… I admit my thoughts are occupied with her, but it’s just… in these circumstances, is that not normal? I’m simply worried –”

“You lay here, with her, looking at her with those eyes, and claim it is worry?” asked Luna, incredulous. “You would speak to I, the very princess of dreams and nightmares both, and claim contrary to what my very eyes observe? You would lie there with Twilight, in the midst of your heart’s honest dream, beneath swaying leaves of cultivated hope, and say to me it is not love?”

“Exaggeration, sister, that is what this is!” Celestia insisted, though Luna noticed her pull closer to the sleeping Twilight, as if to draw strength from her. “She worked so hard, for months, and her efforts have turned to ash! All I want is to be here for her, but the very sight of me is a reminder of the disaster. I must heal and rest, that is what this dream tells me. I want to comfort her, that is all!”

Luna hesitated – Celestia’s words held some truth, she could tell. Could she be mistaken? The doubt was set aside as she felt a familiar sensation – the dream was shifting. Luna took one step forward, and the world of the garden slid away to reveal Celestia’s bedroom, dimly lit by the waning moon.

And there, curled up in the bed, was her sister and Twilight Sparkle. The unicorn slumbered on, but Celestia was awake, still as can be with an unreadable expression across her face. Luna lingered close, invisible as she scrutinised her sister’s eyes with the same intensity Celestia focused on the sleeping mare in her embrace.

They shut, and her sister let out a deep sigh, her grip tightening around Twilight. “This is not so terrible…” Celestia whispered, so low it could well have been but a thought.

“No, it isn’t,” Luna said. Celestia jumped, startled, and the scene faded back to the garden, Twilight still curled in her tight embrace. Luna tilted her head and regarded her sister sadly. “So why deny it so vehemently?”

“I...!” Celestia’s eyes went wide, and for a second Luna thought she had been cornered. Instead of a confession, however, simply closed her eyes and shook her head in denial. “No, Luna, do not use that against me,” she said, her voice soft and a touch weary. “I woke up beside her, confused as to how we arrived in that position, and I was afraid that… that something had happened. Something I might have regretted.”

“But it wasn’t so terrible, now was it?” pressed Luna.

“No, it was not,” Celestia conceded. “My fears were… unfair.” She looked down at the dream of Twilight, nestling into her. “She is clever, and kind, and beautiful. She is worthy of anyone’s affections, but… on reflex I treated her as if it were otherwise, as if being with her was some terrible thing.”

Luna grinned wide. “So, you admit she’s worthy of your affection, hmm?”

Celestia’s eyes flashed with irritation. “Recognising it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Your eyes tell a different tale, sister,” Luna said, her convictions firm. “I’ve no doubt you do want to comfort her, but that’s not where it ends, nor is it where this dream came from. I saw how you looked at her only moments ago. I saw how you looked at her as she awoke in your bed. You cannot deny there is an attraction – I daresay she reciprocates it, even!”

Celestia glanced away, her chest rising and falling as her breath quickened. “She is attractive,” she said, soft yet irritated. “There, are you satisfied? Idle thoughts, Luna, nothing more. I can recognise beauty when I see it.”

“That’s not the same as attraction, Celestia!” Luna beckoned with her hoof towards Celestia, and the mare she was denying, still tangled in her forelegs. “Do you really think you can hide this from me, here of all places? Here, in the midst of your dream, resting under this tree, holding her as a lover?”

Celestia let out a short laugh, bordering on harsh. “Exactly, Luna. A dream! A passing fancy! Do not speak to me as if you’ve never experienced a dream warping the truth!”

Luna bristled. “Warp!? How dare you!” she snapped, no longer willing to play host to her sister’s dodges. Celestia recoiled in shock at the outburst. “I gave you this dream! I know where this garden was created! It was conjured by your heart, not an addled mind trying to make sense of things!”

“I want to comfort her,” Celestia said, her voice a whisper almost too low for Luna to catch. The sun princess curled around the dream of Twilight, whose head moved upwards in her sleep to nuzzle Celestia’s chin. “She is my dear friend, she is beautiful, she gives so much and feels such needless guilt. Why wouldn’t I dream of comforting her? Just because the dream took an unexpected turn –“

“Do not speak to me of dreams!” Luna interrupted, stomping a hoof in an almost petulant bid to be heard. “Look at this tree, sister! Just look!” She circled the tree, taking in the slender but strong trunk, the branches reaching out in all direction, the vibrant red leaves, and the full, ripe fruit hanging just beyond reach… but not beyond Celestia, she knew. “This is cultivated. This did not spring up overnight. This is no ‘passing fancy’.”

“This – this tree is Twilight’s project,” Celestia said, though she seemed unsure, refusing to look at Luna. Instead, she looked back at the dream of Twilight resting against her. “The tree is our journey.”

“No, this tree is the destination,” Luna said, completing her round of the tree. “Your merry chase is over, now confess where you find yourself!”

“She is my student!” Celestia stood suddenly, startling the dream of Twilight. The dream of the unicorn looked, confused, between Luna and her beloved alicorn now leaving her behind. Realising what was happening, she dropped her head in sadness. Luna felt a pang of guilt at the sight, before her vision was filled with a stern-faced Celestia. “She needs me as her guide, not some half-smitten dolt stealing glances from across the room! I’ve watched over her for so long – these feelings are an insult to her, to us!”

‘These feelings,’ Luna noted, biting her lip slightly as she spotted the sliver of a confession. “Twilight is your student no longer,” she reminded Celestia. “I recall you refer to her now as your protégé in scholarly pursuits.”

Celestia rolled her eyes, irritation barely held back. “Semantics!”

“Semantics you insisted upon!” Luna reminded her, firm. “Words have power, even over us, sister, power both subtle and pervasive. Some level of you wanted to divorce yourself from the thought of Twilight as a student, as reliant on you. You made that distinction for yourself, long ago, be it out of respect, or acknowledgment, or attraction –” Here, her sister actually scoffed, pacing further from the tree, and from the dream.

“Yes, attraction, sister!” Luna called after her, pursuing her, demanding to be heard, refusing to let the matter drop. “Is it really so impossible? She has conquered powers you could not control, she has pierced deceptions you could not perceive, she brought us back together after a millennium of separation – and she adores you, sister, she utterly adores you! That’s enough to change anyone’s impressions of a pony! Why won’t you at least give your heart a chance, Celestia?”

“I am the princess of Equestria,” Celestia said, her words dull and sounding to Luna’s ears like a mantra. “I have… I have ruled for a thousand years and… and I cannot…”

Luna rounded on Celestia, appearing before her in a burst of dark aura and stars, leaving ripples in the dreamscape around her. “You cannot what, Celestia?” she demanded, even as Celestia shied away. “You cannot allow your heart to beat? You cannot act on just one private desire? What harm is there?”

Celestia turned, finally, to face Luna… and the younger sister gasped in shock at what she saw.

In Luna’s experience, dreams revealed things both important and unexpected, and though she prided herself as the mistress of dreams, even she was caught quite often by surprise. Dreams were kaleidoscopes of emotions, and the slightest twitch could change how everything stood.

But even with that knowledge, she reeled at the sight of her sister. How had she not seen it before? That mask, like a dish of pure porcelain laid across her features, perfectly conforming to her face.

But now it was plain as day, shielding her from the world, was a mask of her own face, Celestia’s own visage in a state of pure composure.

Her eyelids slid open, just as a doll’s might, but behind them was no glass gaze – Celestia’s own eyes, red and weary, stared back at Luna, holding a faint accusation.

“You truly have no idea…” Celestia whispered. “Do you?”

In the sudden silence, the sound of the crack was thunderous as an ugly, jagged wound ran down her porcelain features from the left eye of the mask, like a tear.

“Sister, what…?” Luna began, but the terrible sight before her paled as she caught sight of what now loomed behind Celestia. “Sister!”

Her warning came too late. Bone-white vines as thick as her foreleg sprung up, looping around her sister, their dagger-like thorns drawing out a terrible scream from the masked alicorn as they cut into her skin.

Luna rushed forward to save her, but stumbled as the ground shook, and suddenly the garden’s rich foliage withered around her, turning to dust before her eyes in mere seconds. Great chunks of the land gave way, sinking into the earth and reducing the world to a barren desert, as far as the eye could see. Even the red-leafed tree was gone, along with the Twilight Celestia had dreamed.

Celestia let out another pained cry, and Luna rushed to her side. “Sister! Stay calm! This isn’t real!” she said, trying to reassure her.

The thorns tightened as Luna approached, and Celestia’s mask continued to crack, the sound of breaking porcelain cutting through all other sound and thought in the dream. “Luna,” she said softly, her voice impossibly calm. “Luna, are you trying to save me?”

“Of course I am!” was Luna’s incredulous reply. Her horn shone, and she tried to impose her will on the dream, but the briars resisted her, their thorns shredding her magic before it could find purchase there.

“Magic won’t work,” Celestia said, hushed, after a moment. “Horns are for sweeping them away. Hooves crush them.”

Luna nodded, desperate to try anything. Picking out where one of the binding vines reached the ground, she reared up and brought her forehooves down on it with all of her strength. The vine crumpled as if it were charcoal and, emboldened, Luna quickly repeated the process, crushing and scattering the briars as quickly as she could manage. “What does this mean, Celestia?” she asked as she worked, slowly easing a vicious thorn out of her sister’s flesh, before grinding it to powder under a merciless hoof. Through it all, Celestia remained silent, without even a gasp of pain escaping her. “Sister, please…” Pausing in her work, she turned to look at her sister, her eyes roaming her crumbling porcelain face.

“I…” Celestia began, her voice flat.

The dirt beneath them became hard, cold slabs of limestone. Walls rose out of the ground and broken glass fell down around them, and Luna turned to see the world far below her. They were on the balcony leading to a vast hall, one she recognised well as her once home, the old Castle of the Royal Sisters.

The curiosity and faint nostalgia of finding herself there faded as she turned to look into the hall. White briars filled the ancient audience chamber, thick and dense where the thrones should have stood. There, in the centre of it all was a vision of horror.

The creature had a coat as white as bones left to bleach under the unforgiving desert sun. Her mane trailed like fire around her, an incandescent blue tangled in the thorns, seeming to set them ablaze. Its face was the worst of it, because it was perfect, a perfect mask identical to Celestia’s save for the eyes, which were sunken and etched with deep and weary fury.

Silence, those eyes screamed. Silence.

“N-no…” Luna shook her head in disbelief. This was a nightmare, not a memory. It couldn’t be a memory, Celestia wasn’t her! Celestia could never…! “Sister, what… what is this?”

“I…” Celestia’s words were robbed from her throat as the briars shot forward. The nightmare’s eyes screamed for silence, and it was in utter silence that Luna watched, horrified, as the claw sunk deep into her sister’s chest. Celestia stumbled backwards, her mask finally shattering and falling to pieces on the ground, revealing her face twisted in the agony of a torn heart. The briar broke apart, but the thorn remained, a dagger in her heart.

Celestia collapsed, staring absently at the dagger buried in her heart as Luna rushed to her side. “Sister, listen to me, this is just a nightmare!”

“A nightmare…” Celestia mumbled. “I… see.”

A great tremor shook the room, causing both sisters to lose their balance as the castle itself began to collapse. Luna was quick to recover, her horn ablaze and deflecting chunks of stone falling around them as she pushed her fallen sister out onto the balcony once more, out of danger. In the corner of her vision, Luna saw a flash of white and whirled around to face it, standing protectively before her sister. To her confusion, however, she saw the briars begin to turn on the nightmare itself as the ancient stone toppled around it.

Luna caught the creature’s gaze one final time, revealing a glare both weary and mournful before it was hidden as the nightmare closed its eyes, resigned. The fractured walls around it finally fully gave way, and the vaulted ceiling came tumbling down, entombing Celestia’s nightmare in the ruins of the past.

Shaken, Luna had no time to recover before she heard another distant roar. Across the destroyed hall, water was beginning to seep through the cracks in the ancient stone. The merciless dream refused to spare her even a moment to gasp before a torrential flood burst through the wall and crashed into the wrecked hall. Luna was struck by a wave of frigid water, and what remained of the castle ruins was swept away in the deluge. A cold spray of water drenched the two princesses as even the ground collapsed around them, leaving them stranded on the balcony, a single tiny outcrop of stone over a vast waterfall.

“Everything’s unravelling…” Luna stomped her hoof and spread her wings, anchoring herself to that point in the dream. “Celestia, what is this about?” She crouched down, bringing her head down to Celestia’s level.

Celestia gave no reply, refusing still to meet Luna’s gaze as she nursed the wound over her heart. “Sister, please…” Luna said, stung by her sister’s silence. “You can’t keep hiding this, I–”

A terrible crack interrupted her. The ground beneath them shifted, and suddenly Celestia was slipping away from her, the balcony falling away over the edge of the waterfall. “Celestia!” Luna cried, lunging forward. A hoof flailed out to catch her sister’s…

She missed by a hair’s breadth.

Before her eyes, Celestia plummeted into the raging waterfall. Luna’s wings spread, prepared to dive from her crumbling perch, but a mighty gust of wind caught her and blew her upwards, away from the falling form of Celestia, holding her back.

“No. No nightmare may refuse me.” Luna lashed out, ripping through the very fabric of the dream. The castle, the waterfall, all of it dissolved into formless mist to be cast aside by her horn and her wings.

But still did Celestia plummet, falling further and further beyond Luna’s reach.

So Luna dove.

The mist was icy shards cutting into her coat, anger and fear and shame bundled into fragments of glass growing denser and denser even as Celestia grew further and further from her. The threshold was before her, Luna knew, so thick as to be a wall of trauma. She would break through regardless, she would cast all this needless pain aside and show Celestia she could bear whatever pain was being kept from her.

Glinting glass memories flashed by, giving Luna a glimpse of

The pitch black mare of the night smiles darkly as her starry mane wraps over a coat of alabaster. “This night shall last forever,” she whispers.

Luna gasped, sheer panic flooding her. The shard snagged her, cutting into her wing, and her dive was broken. She tumbled and crashed into the rest, pain and shock and frustration and fear and shame and a thousand others riddle her body.

A herd of ponies, their bellies empty and their bodies thin. One looks back at the ancient castle, and scowls.

Under a moon branded with the icon of a sinner, unnaturally red and low in the sky, Celestia weeps.

A solid wave of water rises high above the land as it bore down on the world.

A green earth pony lies in a pool of blood, and Celestia turns to face the moon, eyes wide with horror.

Breaking from the flood of images, Luna’s eyes found Celestia’s, confused and fearful. ‘What does this mean?’ her eyes asked.

Celestia smiled, somewhat sad… then she closed her eyes with the same resignation of the nightmare before her, and disappeared into the mist.

Luna cried out and tried to dive, but the glittering memories caught her. They wrapped around her wings, dragging her down, and she tumbled and fell into a curtain of silver light.

It didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense! Luna, of all ponies, knew dreams. She knew how to swim in them and twist in them. But her sister’s storm of emotions... she hadn’t known, couldn’t have expected what might be released, and now, she...

Panic gripped her as she fell, head over hooves, through the light, but she pushed the fear back. Shutting her eyes, she took three deep breaths, commanding herself to be calm.

‘I am the princess of the moon.’ Her decent slowed, and the memories cradled her.

‘I am walker of dreams.’ Their touch became like feathers, like cool scraps of paper against her coat.

‘I am beloved here, and safe.’ She felt herself land, light on her hooves, on soft loam, the memories setting her down gently.

She opened her eyes, and found herself sitting under the swaying, silver-leaved curtain of a huge willow tree. The moon sat quietly on the horizon, and all the world slumbered. She was back in Celestia’s dream, of that there was no doubt.

However, there wasn’t a trace of Celestia anywhere. Luna allowed her presence to ripple through the dream, scouring the world for its creator, but impossibly, she found nothing.

Her sister was gone. Lost, inside her own nightmare.

~{C}~

Composure, Chapter 6, end

~{C}~

Chapter 7 - Catalyst

Composure

by Varanus

A MLP:FiM fanfiction.

~{C}~

Chapter 7 – Catalyst

~{C}~

Numbers floated before Twilight, blocks of an unintelligible language set upon thick, soot-stained paper. She set the ream aside and picked up one of many other similar stacks on the makeshift desk before her. She blinked, hard, and massaged her temple, attempting to jar her mind back into focus. At her hoof lay a doughnut, ignored beyond an initial polite nibble after the snack was gifted to her by a scientist who had arrived late. He had stumbled into the ruins with two-dozen of Pony Joe’s best balanced on his back, and had proceeded to pass them around as a ‘morale boost’.

‘Thoughtful, though kind of inappropriate considering the circumstances,’ Twilight mused as she poked the now cold pastry, her eyes sliding momentarily over to the conspicuous black tarp marking the spot where Celestia…

Her eyes snapped back to the readings. They were all that had survived the disaster, but were nevertheless more than enough for her, more than she had even expected. Yet, no matter how hard she stared, the numbers just crowded around her in a jumbled mess. Never before had numbers eluded her so – she always had seen the connections, the logic in how each number related to the next, and so to their significance and impact in the world. She could only see snippets here. She knew the equations she needed to apply, all the data was dancing in front of her, but still the question remained: If f(x) = x.(x + n)!, for what value of x does everything explode?

‘Face it. Your head’s just not in the game today,’ Twilight grumbled mentally, absently levitating the abandoned doughnut to her mouth.

Instead of the sweetness she sought, there was only the bitter taste of ash.

She stopped chewing, glanced at the doughnut, and saw it had collected a thick layer of dust and soot on its glaze. Twilight blanched. “Eugh!” she exclaimed, her tongue suddenly recoiling from the pastry in her mouth as she spat the mush out. “Gross, gross, gross, gross…”

“Uh, Miss Sparkle?”

Twilight froze and looked in the direction of the voice to see Dusty Scroll hesitating a few paces away. Twilight chucked in embarrassment. “Y-yes?” she asked, speaking around the awful taste in her mouth.

“We, uh, found some of the gems…” He was frowning slightly. Behind him, she could see several of the other scientists crowded around the twisted remains of the array, fidgeting in anxiety. “It’s a bit strange.”

Twilight straightened up and tossed the ruined doughnut over her shoulder. Quickly swiping the inside of her mouth with her tongue to banish the foul taste, she nodded and smiled. “Alright, let’s take a look.”

She quickly trotted the short distance from her makeshift desk to the array, pushing past the gaggle of ponies to stand at the husk of her failed project. Rubble and glass was piled up around them, swept aside by a hard day of careful excavation. The walkways and metal platforms had all been moved aside, leaving just a twisted spire resting, fallen, in the now dry pool below. Normally it would have been nothing for Twilight alone to have removed in a few minutes, but considering what had happened, they had all been forced to work as lightly and as carefully as possible in uncovering the remains of the array.
Judging by the nervous air of her team, that caution had paid off. “What have you found?” Twilight called down to the few ponies lingering in the empty pool. “Are the crystals still active?”

One of the pegasi, Cloudchaser, looked up at her. “I don’t think so, but it’s nothing I’ve ever seen before.” She stepped aside to reveal what the fuss was about – the remains of the array’s Resonance crystals.

Twilight froze, stomach lurching hard at the sight.

“See what I mean by ‘strange’?” Dusty rubbed his chin with his hoof. “They’re completely discoloured from what I remember. Maybe they were burnt, somehow, in the explosion? But –”

Twilight didn’t register his words, her eyes glued to the sight. Resting at the bottom of the dry pool were chunks of crystal – some were mere fragments, others as big as an apple. One was nearly the size of a pony’s head, though far more angular.

And all of them, without exception, were as dark as obsidian.

“Everyone, out of the pool,” Twilight managed to muster past a frozen jaw. The ponies below hesitated, caught off-guard by her strained tone. “Out of the pool!” she ordered, this time panicked, her horn glowing. Cloudchaser, to her credit, snapped to attention and grabbed her closest teammate, propelling both out of the pool in one wingbeat. The remaining few ponies found themselves caught in Twilight’s telekinetic grip and wrenched bodily out before they themselves could react.

“Twi-!” Dusty began to exclaim, but Twilight vanished in a clap of magic, reappearing down below before the crystals.

“Everypony, keep clear! If this is what I think it is…” Twilight lifted the largest crystal in her magical grip, turning it around until she could see her stricken face in its reflection.

Fear. Solid fear. She could feel it, seeping into her mind even with just the slightest touch of her magic cradling it, quickening her heartbeat, strangling her lungs…

Twilight forced a shaky breath, every inch of her body shuddering, suddenly soaked in a cold sweat. She felt like she had discovered Celestia’s broken body all over again.

The crystal fell from her grip, hitting the ground with a dull clunk, and in her mind’s frenzied eye, she could almost see the shadowy specter wrap around the crystal, fangs gnashing, horn red, eyes mere slits of emerald malaise.

She stepped back, and back, and back, until she felt her rear bump against the end of the pool. A rosy flash of light brought her back among her fellow scientists, and suddenly she was swarmed with an unintelligible gaggle of questions. What was that are you okay are we in danger could there be corruption what were you thinking do you need air what was that?

“Nobody go near any of these crystals,” she croaked, her throat dry. Swallowing, she wiped her eyes with the back of her hoof. Her heartbeat had slowed down to something like normal, and, amazingly enough, she hadn’t shed any tears in the moment that the fear had gripped her. ‘Stupid to pick it up. Stupid! Your emotions are all over the place as it is, you shouldn’t be messing around with… that!’

“If anypony has some barrier spells, now would be a great time to use one.” She turned and began to beckon with a hoof, mind racing. “We need to establish a perimeter and block all access to those crystals until we can move them to a secure location. I’ll speak to Celestia, or Princess Luna, about getting some proper equipment to preserve it, but –”

“What was that!?” Cloudchaser demanded, stomping a hoof out of frustration and not a little fear.

Twilight took a breath. “It’s dark magic,” she confessed, staring once more at her ruined array, but seeing it in a far more sombre light. “Something corrupted the experiment.”

~{C}~

The sun was low and the air was still around Celestia’s tower when a snap-flash of rose magic brought Twilight before its stone doors. She pushed them open and trotted quickly inside, her mind buzzing as she searched for some clue, either to answer the mystery of the black crystal or to spot a plot in motion.

She had left the laboratory in lock-down, of course, putting it in the care of a half a dozen guards and thrice as many sealing spells and wards – not that it helped reassure her. The fact remained that her experiment had been corrupted from a system built on the principle of Harmony into something that produced darkness and fear. As she ran, two possible explanations jumped up and crowded her thoughts – was it sabotage, or a normal part of the process?

Twilight didn’t like the implications of either possibility. If it had been sabotaged, then that meant that somepony had access to her research materials and intimately knew the ins and outs of her research, so much so that they had been able to hide their plot under Twilight’s very nose. They… they were probably part of the team itself! Twilight didn’t want to doubt the ponies that she had brought together herself, but after the invasion of the changelings so many years ago, she couldn’t rule the possibility out.

On the other hoof, if it was a normal part of the phenomenon, then all her work and all her hopes amounted to a machine – no, a process that twisted harmony and generated darkness and fear. Nothing short of a mockery of everything she had worked toward, everything she believed in.

She didn’t know what to do. But, old habits die hard. When in doubt… consult her mentor.

She raced up the winding stairs of the tower, towards the only surety in the midst of this confusion. She needed to tell Celestia about this, immediately. Celestia would know what to do.

So focused she was on the crisis, she failed to notice how silent Celestia’s tower was. Her wits were so frayed, she didn’t even hear the bark of a lone guardsman calling out to her as she barreled past him, arriving at the top of the stairs and galloping for the doors of the chamber.

She skidded to a halt in front of them and raised her hoof, knocking it with staccato panic. She didn’t wait for a reply, pushing them open with words already spilling from her mouth. “Celestia, something’s gone horribly—!”

Her voice dried up in her mouth. “Wrong…” she managed to breathe out as the air was stolen from her lungs.

The room was empty, and in disarray. Twilight walked inside in a daze, not quite processing the sight before her.
The bedsheets were pulled half off the bed, and the great duvet torn, bleeding white feathers across the ground and around her hooves. Celestia’s personal bookshelf was knocked over, the precious scrolls and penny paperbacks alike strewn about it. The trail of destruction led Twilight to the elegant doors to the balcony, both of which now were blasted off their hinges, their glass panes all shattered into big, jagged pieces littered across the floor.

Twilight then looked up, and saw the sky painted a bloody red and bruised purple. Equestria far below looked peaceful as it had ever been, but slowly the truth was sinking into Twilight. The world had gone mad.

“Twilight Sparkle?” a voice spoke up.

Twilight whirled about-face and saw a guard lingering at the door, as if unwilling to go any further. “What happened here?” Twilight demanded, rushing up to him, eyes wide and disbelieving.

“Princess Luna would like to speak with you,” he said instead of answering, not quite meeting her eyes.

Twilight blankly stared at him, his words slipping away from her before she could make sense of them. “Where… where is she?” she asked.

“Princess Luna is occupied in her study. She has requested that we direct you to an ancillary meeting room the moment you –”

“Not Luna,” Twilight choked. “Where’s Celestia?” The guard hesitated. A bastion inside Twilight, her last safeguard, cracked. “Where is she?!”

The guard swallowed, his eyes still averted. “Miss Sparkle, at one in the afternoon today, Princess Luna visited these chambers to find Princess Celestia had vanished…”

The guard kept speaking, but Twilight was deaf to his account.

Celestia was gone. The mad world began to spin, gravity breaking free now that sanity was forfeit. Twilight fell onto her hindquarters, her head light and dancing and her blood roaring in her ears and long steel pins digging into her stomach and Celestia was gone.

A realization formed in the forefront of her brain, a steady rock in her stormy confusion. “She… one o'clock?”

The guard hesitated. “Yes, that is when Princess Luna…”

“She knew.” Twilight's eyes grew firm, fury latching onto the rock like a white-hot anchor. “Luna’s in her study?” she asked the guard, whose nod was more of a knee-jerk than a reply.

“Right.” Twilight’s horn flared, blinding bright, and with a thunderclap and a flash of rose lightning, she disappeared.

~{C}~

Eyes and ears clear and unaffected by the explosion of rose light, Twilight stepped out of her spell and into Princess Luna’s study. She looked towards the grand mahogany desk that dominated one of the walls, only to find it empty, and so whirled her head around in search for the princess.

“Ah,” Luna’s voice came, the gasp the evidence of only a dull surprise at the sudden intrusion.

Twilight turned to see Luna standing beside the bay windows of her office, the darkness of her coat offset by the bruised sunset at her back. Her face was masked in the stark shadows, and only her wide eyes could be seen, frozen in a startled, wary look, an old dam suddenly spotting a younger, silky cat wandering into her domain.

Then the moment was gone.

Beside her were two officers of her night guard, who bristled at Twilight’s trespass. However, a shake of Luna's head calmed them. Midnight-blue wings snapped closed, and the princess of the night turned to face her, the phantom in her eyes swallowed whole. “Well met, Twilight Sparkle.”

Twilight couldn't restrain her look of frank disbelief. “'Well met'? Really?” she asked, waving her hoof in a vague indication of 'out there'. “Do you even know what's going on?”

Luna was silent, holding Twilight in an inscrutable gaze. Twilight felt her anxiety begin to bubble over, a demand rising to her lips for whatever knowledge the princess possessed, but before it could be voiced, Luna seemingly came to a decision. “Leave us,” she said.

Twilight hesitated, leaning back an inch as the guards stood at attention. However, instead of advancing on her, they stepped back. “Yes, my Lady,” they said in unison, and bowed, sparing Twilight only a cautioning glare before they turned and stepped out of the room through the open bay windows. Twilight caught a glimpse of their dark, webbed wings extending against the red sky as they dived off the balcony, out of view, before she turned her attention back squarely on the princess of the night before her.

“Celestia…” Twilight sounded her words out carefully, restraining herself. “She’s missing.”

“Princess Celestia,” Luna corrected.

Jarred, Twilight gaped at her. “W-what?”

“She is Princess Celestia,” Luna repeated, holding her in a cold glare. “To her subjects.”

As if dunked into a frozen pool, Twilight struggled to claw through the princess' correction. “She—”

“We are surprised at such familiarity from you. Normally, you are flawlessly formal. Regardless, the situation is under control. We are aware of her disappearance.” Luna’s expression didn’t budge an inch from the dull glare she wore. “What of it?”

“'What of it?'” Twilight gaped, gone beyond disbelief and into the borders of incomprehension. For a moment, she felt the world spin again, tearing from its mooring in reality. Part of her wondered, hoped even, on the possibility that Luna simply failed to realize the seriousness of the situation. “Princess, your sister is gone, she's been gone for hours, isn't that—?”

The princess was cold stone, unmoving and unmoved. “Twilight, We allow this audience under the presumption that if you had seen fit to storm into our sanctum unannounced, it would have been to bear fresh knowledge. Have you even a whit of any relevant news at all?”

“No, I – I just found out, nobody told me she—! L—Princess, she's gone! Her room is destroyed, what if she was kidnapped?!” Twilight sputtered. A stray thought took hold. “Did... did you speak to her before she— did she tell you anything, tell you why?”

“No, she did not,” Luna replied, dashing that flicker of hope as she turned away, pacing towards her desk. “We found her chambers in disarray, 'tis true, and have not heard from her since. However...” She paused, and looked over her shoulder. “Such panic is pointless. She left under her own power, that much is certain, so We have chosen to respond with discretion. The situation is under control.”

“Control? So why haven’t you done anything?” Twilight demanded, grinding her hoof into the carpet.

Luna paused at her desk, and glanced over her shoulder at the unicorn with an eyebrow raised, a note of scorn emerging from her impassive air. “Of course We have taken action. Ordering heralds to announce the news in the square, however, is counterproductive.” She raised her chin and sat before her desk, turning her attention to a small stack of scrolls bound with indigo wax.

Twilight's mouth twisted as a grimace tried to overtake her features. “I understand wanting to keep it quiet, but she's been gone for hours. I could have... I could have done something to help. Why didn't you tell me?”

“Surely We need not remind you that this is not the first time Our sister has mysteriously vanished,” Luna said, her voice almost idle as she cracked the wax off one scroll and began to scan it intently. “Indeed, 'tis the second such disappearance in as many days. Forgive me for choosing to focus on priorities,” she said, a sharpness entering her neutral tone.

Twilight blinked, but her disbelief and her panic pushed her forward past the red warning flags her mind was tossing up. “And I’m not a priority?”

Luna’s eyes wandered the scroll, her attention trained solely on the ink on the parchment. “Should you be?” she asked as she scratched the page with a quill.

“I –!” Twilight gaped at Luna, momentarily lost for words. “What?”

“Should you be a priority? Really?” she repeated wearily. The scroll in her magical grip rolled itself and landed hard on the desk, and then the attention of the princess was focused solely on Twilight once more, eyebrow raised in faint derision. “Now, of all times? Our beloved sister has vanished seemingly into thin air, yet We are to drop Our search for her to inform you of the matter specially? Our sister takes priority here, Twilight Sparkle, and the spot after her is claimed by the well-being of Equestrian citizens as a whole.”

“I could have helped you!” Twilight stomped her hooves in desperation, begging to be heard. “Celestia is missing, I should have been out there looking for her, or – or finding a spell to track messages sent by Spike’s fire, that would have lead right to her!”

“Princess Celestia,” Luna corrected her, before looking back at her work. “And that is a dead end. The letters would arrive in her study as they always do.”

Twilight bit the inside of her cheek. “Fine. I know plenty of detection spells – some of them are ones I wrote myself. Give me a piece of chalk, one of her feathers and a bowl of ink and I'll find her.”

Luna snorted lightly, dismissing the idea. “Do you not realize who scribed the first spells of scrying? It was We two sisters, together, before Equestia, so that we could ever be with one another. To assume we taught the unicorns all we knew is foolishness indeed – We sisters can only be seen when we allow it. Chalk and ink will not find what Our invocations of Sun and Moon and bond of blood cannot.”

“I could have looked for clues in the library, at least!” Once upon a time, after all, a younger Twilight's favorite pastime was to curl up behind a thick book and read about Equestria's history, with the passages and chapters about Celestia increasingly dog-eared and bookmarked as years went on. “I can think of at least half a dozen places Celestia might have gone—”

“Such as the Shrine of Whitetail?” Luna raised the scroll she was reading, waving it meaningfully. Two more scrolls rose from the pile and magically unrolled themselves beside it in the air, and Twilight could just about make out the words of some sort of report written in them. “Or the falls of Neighagra, where many accounts note she took sabbatical last century? Perhaps the ruined monasteries in the Foal Mountains to the east? Her past haunts have been scoured by Our scouts, Twilight. 'Tis hardly work that begs for your presence.”

“I could have done something, at least!” Twilight protested, nearly a chant now. The cogs of the unicorn's mind ground against an iron thorn wedged in their teeth. She tried to make sense of it, what possible reason Luna could have for this, but the gears just gnashed on that barb – this doesn’t make sense this doesn’t make sense! “I could have helped.”

“Celestia is not the only Princess of Equestria!” Luna snapped, sudden and harsh as a fork of lightning.

Taken aback, Twilight couldn't respond before Luna's anger vanished as quick as it came, though her dark expression left an after-image burned in Twilight's mind all the same. She could only stare at Luna as the princess' attention squared back onto the reports.

“There happen to be certain resources available to Us for such situations,” Luna said, her voice, cold once more, breaking the silence. “Your involvement is unnecessary.”

'Unnecessary?' Twilight's mind froze completely, struck numb by the dismissal of her friend, somepony who she thought valued her abilities, who understood how vital it was to help Celestia – not the Princess, but Celestia, Luna's sister, Twilight's...

It didn't make sense.

In a flash, Twilight understood. It didn't make sense, but not because there was some big flaw in her thinking that she just wasn't seeing. With that, the gears of her brain began whirling backwards, spitting the iron shard out. 'There's something else going on, there must be,' she realized, and gritted her teeth.

“Have you found Celestia?” she demanded.

Luna's eyes flickered towards her, a flash of frustration quickly chilled with icy authority. “Princess Celestia has yet to be located, as you well—”

“Then your 'certain Princess resources' weren't enough,” Twilight said, cutting her off. “It wasn't enough. Celestia is gone, and you don't know where she is, so you don't get to say what is and is not necessary when it comes to finding her. You said that Celestia takes priority, she's, she's the most important concern, so you should be pulling out all the stops to find her, even if your personal opinion is that it'll do no good.”

“Our personal—?” Now it was Luna's turn to stare in shock, though it was only for a moment before she shifted into a stern glare. “Still thy tongue, Twilight Sparkle, lest you try Our patience. Regardless of our mutual affection, We are still your princess—”

“So act like it!” Twilight demanded. “Right now nothing you're doing makes sense! There is no reason why you shouldn't have told me about Celestia the second you found her gone! And even now, I'm here, I want to help, and you're telling me that I can't? That I shouldn't? Luna, why?”

As if it were paper set alight by fire in her own furious eyes, Luna's calm visage burnt away into blackened outrage. “Why! Why would We exclude an impetuous, volatile foal such as thee?! Why, Twilight Sparkle 'tis made clear by this very confrontation!”

Luna rose, terrible as a thunderstorm, the stars in her mane growing harsh and the shadows at her hooves looming over Twilight, pushing against the light of the setting sun. Twilight felt herself lean back, some primal fear urging her to flee – but her hooves, be it through determination or paralyzed fear, refused to budge an inch.

“Why involve you?” Luna shot, waving her hoof in dismissal. “So that you could explosively invade Our study? So that you could demand Our attention, Our obedience? You expect Us to involve you after this wanton display!? Be grateful for Our lenience at this intrusion, that We do not lock you into your chambers until you have cooled your temper! We are sorely tempted.”

Luna glared at her, head back, eyes narrow, contempt and disbelief etched into the beginnings of a sneer that sent Twilight's mind tumbling back, to years earlier, to the last time a dark Princess had glared down at her. By all rights, Twilight should have been intimidated into silence, but...

“You're kidding. You're kidding, right?” the terrible Nightmare before her scoffed... right as Twilight lowered her horn.

“Yes,” Twilight said, pushing through the fear. She had weathered far worse for Celestia's sake, and worse still from Luna alone. “Yes, I expect you to involve me because Celestia is top priority. You know I could have helped – name one pony in Canterlot that's more qualified than me to handle a potential crisis like this, one unicorn that could cast a specialized detection spell and find her, or knows her history and habits well enough to even start a search in the first place!”

“Your skills are great, and rightly lauded. I know of only one who could trump you in those tasks.” Luna leaned forward, her voice icy. “You are standing in her sanctum.”

Twilight reeled, almost physically thrown off-balance from Luna's words. For the princess to hold her status, her godhood over Twilight, especially at a time like this... it was startling, frightening. Luna may as well have scraped frozen daggers across Twilight's back where wings weren't.

Twilight mentally dug her hooves in regardless. “That's no reason not to tell me. You're busy with bureaucracy, I could have devoted my time to helping you find an immediate solution, scouting on the field directly. If you wanted subtlety, you could have sent someone to fetch me... or a letter, even!”

Luna's eyes flickered away for an instant. “We have had no time nor messengers nor missives to spare,” she said, and picked up the entire stack of scrolls from her desk to brandish them in Twilight's direction. “Even now, you delay us – these represent a mere hour of Our search for Celestia. The castle is stripped to the bone that all available guards might scour the land for her. Meanwhile, Our own guard are split between aiding the search and maintaining the charade so that nopony else discovers her absence. The fewer that know, the fewer the odds somepony will cause another panic. We shall maintain harmony regardless of your personal feelings on the matter.”

“This is harmony?” Twilight snarled.

Luna's eyes grew hardened once more, flashing sharp and cold as steel. “No, 'tis not. That is why We passed you by.”

“Luna—”

“Enough.”

Luna's voice cut the unicorn's protest, crushing it under a cold authority that brooked no argument. Twilight felt her jaw shut nearly of its own accord. Luna glowered, lip curling, before she tore her glare away.

“Had you more care for Harmony, O Element of Magic, We would have begged for your aid.” The princess' voice was flat, forced out of her mouth from between clenched teeth. “But what choice have you given Us? You hear the news and come bearing light and fury into my personal sanctuary, just as I expected you would, given your behavior of late. You make demands of Us, Princess of the Moon, just as We knew you would. This...” She ground her jaws, and looked back at Twilight once more, her eyes flashing with anger.

“This, We do not forgive, Twilight Sparkle. This we merely tolerate, because it is preferable to you absconding with Our sister to a public hospital of all places, like last time, when you betrayed her state for all the world to see. Do you even realize what you did? How sorely you wounded the throne's reputation, how cacophonous the pandemonium you created cried, how widely spread the seeds of fear you have sown?”

“I...” Twilight faltered, shame at the memory gnawing at her anger. “I was only trying to help Celestia. She was hurt, badly, and—!”

“You took matters into your hooves, Twilight Sparkle! You took Our sister away from Us, as if you were the only one who cared for her.”

Twilight stomped a hoof. “That's not fair! You were there too, you saw Celestia, when she –” Her voice choked, gripped by the memory looming over her.

~{C}~

Twilight stared out into the distance through Celestia's balcony window, contemplating the clouds all red and purple from the tired sun's light, frozen as it was atop its perch on the horizon. Her mind felt pleasantly empty, but her limbs and stomach quivered, her body a tightly wound spring. She shivered against the shiny metallic blanket a nurse had draped over her, and leaned further against the foot of Celestia's bed.

On it, rested Celestia, the sound of her sure, heavy breathing somewhat comforting. Twilight found herself trying to breathe along with her, matching her despite the huge difference in size.

It was calming. It helped her focus on something other than thinking.

Over by the door, she heard snippets of hurried debate and orders between Luna, one of the guards and a nurse. Doctors would be arriving soon, which was –

The mattress she was leaning against shifted, and Twilight whipped her head over to see Celestia struggling to rise.

“Um,” was all she could manage, scrambling to her hooves.

Celestia didn't notice, her burnt wings flaring out as she struggled to pull herself upright. One of her hooves struggled for purchase atop the bed, only to give way and slip off, bringing Celestia down with it.

“Princess!” Twilight yelped. Her horn lit, but not fast enough. Celestia crumpled on the ground, a burned and weak white bulk. Twilight rushed to her side, her magic aiding the princess as she continued to try to pull herself up.

“I don't... don't...” Weary wings twitching, Celestia struggled on instinct against Twilight's magic.

“Princess, princess, it's me,” Twilight said as soothingly as she could, hovering in anxiety beside her. “It's just me, Twilight.”

Managing to rise to a seated position, Celestia blinked, bleary and pained, before seeing Twilight before her. “Twilight?” she asked, her voice slurred and confused.

The smaller pony wilted slightly, remembering the last moments in that burning laboratory, remembering Celestia lower her horn, ready to charge. “Y-yes,” she replied with a careful nod. “It's Twilight.”

Celestia remained still, eyes dull as she tried to process Twilight's words. “I... I have to...” She began to struggle again, trying to rise from her seated position, face twisting in monumental concentration. Her strength only held for a moment before she slumped back down, trembling in either exhaustion or frustration.

Twilight tried to speak, but could barely summon a squeak, paralyzed between wanting to help her princess, and wanting her to return to rest. Some of that trepidation must have played across her face, because Celestia moved forward and pressed her cheek against Twilight's in a clumsy nuzzle. “I'm alright, I'm alright...” she murmured. Twilight couldn't speak, her throat strangled by guilt and relief. Her eyes blurred, wet, and she leaned into the nuzzle, reaching around with her hoof to hug her tattered princess.

Twilight broke the embrace first, and quickly wiped her eyes. Pulling back, she saw Celestia had now turned her attention to the balcony's bay windows. Confused, she looked over at Luna, and was surprised to find her not at the door, but halfway across the room, frozen mid-step. Twilight couldn't place the unsure expression on the Night Princess' face, but it dissolved quickly when their eyes met. Luna stood a little straighter, nodded in Celestia's direction, and then turned and walked back towards her consultants by the door.

Beside her, Celestia drew a heavy breath.

“Princess?” Twilight asked softly.

Celestia continued to stare out the window for a moment, before Twilight's voice registered. “I need to...” she mumbled, trying to rise, but only managing a shrug.

“You want to get up?” Twilight asked.

Celestia blinked hard again, and focused her dull eyes on Twilight. “Mmm, yes. The balcony, there's...” Her face scrunched up, overtaken by pained concentration.

Twilight hesitated for a moment, before flaring her horn. Her magical aura cradled Celestia as the princess struggled to rise once more, this time managing to get her legs underneath herself. Face screwed up in pained exertion, Celestia rose, and began to take a shaky step towards the windows.

Twilight's eyes flicked back over to Luna, who was watching the scene out of the corner of her eye, frowning slightly, wings tense at her side. However, she did nothing to intervene, so Twilight turned back to Celestia and walked along side her, her horn glowing softly as she helped her princess remain steady. The strain wasn't much – Twilight could tell that Celestia was quickly finding her balance, as if she was merely groggy from a late night's work and not so badly hurt.

“You should be resting, Princess...” Twilight said, adopting as soothing a tone as she could muster.

Celestia only murmured in response, responding to the sound of Twilight's voice rather than her suggestion. After another few steps, she paused before the glass doors of her balcony, taking a long moment to process their presence, before simply pushing the ajar door of the set open with a hoof.

“Sister?” Luna's voice called. Twilight glanced back to see Luna pacing towards them, but Celestia seemed to not register the call, and slipped outside to the balcony, her clumsy pace quickened.

Twilight hesitated, again, then flinched as a star-filled glow flooded over her vision when Luna rushed right past her. Rooted in her place, Twilight looked through the glass and she saw the younger confront the elder – worry was painted across Luna's frown and twitching wings, while Celestia remained utterly blank. Twilight stepped out into the cool evening air and took a few wary paces towards the sisters, loath to interrupt or interfere.

“Just need air...” Twilight heard Celestia mumble, the princess' eyes focusing off to the side, to the horizon.

“Sister, I know what time it is,” Luna said, wary. “I can feel it too. It's sunset, but you're hurt.”

“I'm fine,” sighed Celestia, her exasperation undercut by her slurred voice.

“Sister, the medics have not even arrived yet. Wait for their appraisal first, I beg.”

“It's far past time for the sun to set, Luna,” Celestia said, frustration bubbling into her tone. “My ponies are relying on me. I'm fine, the medics will tell you. I'm fine.”

“You are not fine, anypony can see that. It's not safe. Please wait a little while longer.”

“The medics will take hours,” Celestia moaned, turning her head side to side. “They always do. Let me end this day so my ponies won't have to wait to sleep until they tell you that I am fine.”

“You want the day to end?” Luna ground her hoof into the stone of the balcony. “Fine. Sister, allow me to set the sun in your stead.”

Celestia tensed instantly. “No.”

“Just for tonight, I am able, believe me.”

Closing her eyes, Celestia's expression grew sour. “No.”

“Celestia, you need rest –” Luna began, placing a hoof on her sister's shoulder to comfort her.

“No.” Celestia shrugged off Luna's hoof and stepped away from her, wobbling as she focused a pained and angered glare onto her sister. “No, I do not. I do not need rest, and I will not have my sun taken from me.”

Luna recoiled, aghast. “Sister!”

“I still draw breath,” the elder alicorn snarled, swaying on her hooves. “So I am still the – the sun's envoy. I must-!” Celestia threw her head back, her horn ablaze, bright as the sun – for an instant, at least. It spluttered out quickly and she groaned, bowing her head.

“Princess, you're hurt!” Twilight rushed towards her, only to be rebuffed by a swipe of her soot-stained wing. The tip of her primary feathers clipped her on her shoulder, and as weak as the blow was it still sent Twilight stumbling to the side, barely avoiding toppling over. She hit the wall of the castle before she managed to recover, and stared back at Celestia in shock.
Celestia stared back, frozen. “I'm...”

“Sister, stop this nonsense,” Luna interjected, her voice low, hitching on a smothered sob.

Celestia's nostrils flared, and she turned on her sister, wings stretched menacingly at her side. “How dare you! I am Celestia! I still draw breath! One thousand years you were gone! I did my duty alone! I did both our duties! Sun and moon, for a thousand years, on my own.”

“That is not fair, Celestia,” Luna said in reproach, her voice shaky and her face stricken with disbelief and hurt.

“It is perfectly fair!” Celestia lurched forward, forcing Luna backwards to avoid a collision. “Do you think I'm some feeble nag? That this is the worst wound I've suffered in a thousand years? Did you think every last one of those years was peaceful? That the Nightmare was the last blight on the land?”

Luna's jaw opened and shut wordlessly, shocked into silence and quickly shrinking backwards away from her sister as Celestia continued to pace towards her, hooves unsteady but nevertheless sending tremors through the balcony's marble floor.

“Do you think I am too weak, unfit to carry on?” Celestia demanded, her voice a slurred roar. “Or do you just think I'm an idiot, that I would pawn my sacred charge to–!?”

“Celestia!” Twilight cried, horrified, and cantered forward. She hooked her foreleg around Celestia's, tugging her away from Luna. Despite this, Celestia still dragged her forward, the princess' wings battering her as they lifted them both off the ground. Unable to keep her grip, Twilight slipped off and landed hard on her rump.

Celestia landed on the other side of the balcony, her horn glowing. Her face twisted in pain, but rather than wink out, her magic flared twice as bright. Opening her eyes, she looked upwards, pinning both Luna and Twilight in place with her glare. “I am Celestia,” she cried, her body becoming engulfed by the furious white light of her horn before the two petrified mares. “I still draw breath. I still—!”

There was a terrible crack, and everything Twilight knew became a blur.

Celestia screamed in utter agony, and the white light of her horn became blood red, pulsing in frantic, dying flares.

The light in the sky vanished abruptly, every red and purple and orange painted across the canvass of clouds swallowed up into darkness. The only light left in the world was the bursts of magic from Celestia's horn as she thrashed and screamed.
Luna rushed forward, but turned away from her sister, staring wide-eyed and fearful into the blackness that was once the horizon. She tore herself away, facing the darkness.

Twilight ran, galloping to Celestia's side, the screams obliterating all thought. She collapsed beside Celestia, drawing her head into her arms. The princess moaned and sobbed, pain twisting her features, her blood and tears staining Twilight's coat as she twisted in her grip.

Luna's horn flared to life – and Celestia's light died.

She went limp against Twilight's body.

Horror and desperation surged through Twilight, taking life as a rose flow of magic engulfed her and her princess.

Another snap, and Twilight's senses were assaulted with bright harsh light, with gasps of ponies and clatter of wheels and machines, of the stench of disinfectant. She looked up, her heart slamming against her ribs, and saw a unicorn in front of her, one with a red cross for a cutie mark.

Thought finally returned to her.

“Please...” she whispered hoarsely, leaning her shuddering body into Celestia's. “She needs a doctor.”

~{C}~

Twilight shuddered, every fiber of her being trying to shrug off the trauma of the memory. “Luna, it was a disaster. I just... I just reacted, okay?”

“As if that forgives a thing.” Luna's lip curled. “You panicked, as you are so fond of doing, and took Our sister away from Us. You humiliated Celestia, stirred up a crisis where there was none, and left Us to try to placate a kingdom running about as if they had lost their heads. Do you realise who took the blame for what you did? We did. Every pony believed me to be a Nightmare once more, because you, somepony We trusted, panicked.”

Twilight gaped. “They – what?”

Luna narrowed her eyes. “Why are We not surprised? Shall We paint the scene for you? Our sister, beloved Celestia, burnt and weakened. A flare of light and magic, visible across Canterlot, and a scream. Then, darkness falls across the land, the moon rises, and Our sister is gone. What would Equestria see, if they were then to look upon Us?”

Twilight's eyes widened. “I – I didn't know.”

The princess of the night's glower only deepened. “Does your ignorance change how the nobility turned on the crown that night? Does it erase the chains that bound Us to the castle, forced to calm this storm rather than search for our dear sister? You stole that duty from Us!”

“Luna, I was scared,” Twilight insisted, gritting her teeth, shaking her head incredulously. “All my work was in flames, I thought I had killed Celestia in that laboratory, and then, just when I thought she was going to be okay, she... I was scared, and confused, I didn't know what was happening, all I knew was I needed to help her. Are you punishing me for that?”

The princess drew herself up. “Nay, not punishment. 'Tis prudence. We can no longer trust your judgment where my sister is involved.”

“For heavens' sake, Luna, yes you can!” Twilight snarled. “Even if there's nothing else, you can trust in me to do whatever it takes to save Celestia!”

“Desperation is no virtue,” said Luna as she turned her head away. “Not when you abandon composure.”

“I know.” Twilight let out a shaky sigh, but her nerves remained as steel. “That's what created the mess you fell into, and I'm sorry everypony thought you were to blame, but I'm not going to apologize for trying to help Celestia when she was in so much pain, and I'm not going to act like I'm supposed to be guilty for something you never told me about – especially not when you're being so unbelievably selfish right now.”

Luna snapped her glare back at Twilight, incredulous. “Selfish? We are not the one who is impeding Celestia's rescue with her demands.”

Twilight matched her expression. “You're demanding that the most talented unicorn in Equestria back off from trying to help because she accidentally hurt your feelings.”

“You believe We would risk my sister's safety to spite you?” Luna lifted her snout up to the air. “She has hidden herself. She waited until you were absent and hid away. Is that not telling?”

Twilight stared at her in shock for a moment, her words tumbling down her mind before letting them slide away. “You can't even keep your excuses straight,” she growled, turning away.

Luna bristled behind her. “How dare you speak to your princess like—”

“No!” Twilight yelled, spinning to face the princess again and stomping a hoof. “No. You don't get to pull the crown over this, not now, not to me. Celestia is missing, she could be hurt, and it's like you care more about getting back at me than finding her.”

“You overestimate your importance, Twilight Sparkle. We don't need you to save Our sister.”

Twilight threw her hooves up, shaking with frustration. When they hit the ground, she spun on them and marched towards the door. “Fine, believe that if you want. I'm leaving.”

“At long last,” Luna called. “Consider yourself fortunate. Others would not be treated as lightly as you for speaking to your princess as you have. As it stands–”

“Do what you like, I don't care.” Twilight paused, tossing a glare back over her shoulder. “I don't need your approval – stay with your reports, or whatever. I'll find Celestia on my own.”

The princess froze, then bristled at the words. “You shan’t. You are unreliable, uncooperative, and unnecessary,” she hissed. “Our sister ill needs aid from the likes of you.”

“Why don't we let Celestia be the judge of that, instead of you deciding things for her in her absence,” Twilight shot back. “If you were the one who was missing, I would be the first pony Celestia would call for. She trusts me, and if she's hiding or something, then there's a good chance she'd let herself be found.”

Luna's wings twitched. “She trusts you? She would let you find her? How arrogant can you be?”

Twilight tensed, grinding her hooves deep into the carpet, anchoring herself firmly in place as she jutted her head out. “I'm not arrogant at all! It's the truth! Name one, even one pony in all of Equestria, that Celestia actually trusts well enough to let herself be found!”

Luna exploded, and dove at Twilight, her eyes bright with fury, her wings spreading like the storm clouds unraveling across the sky, her mane bursting into an abyssal banner behind her. “How dare you sweep me aside!?” she screamed, towering over Twilight in her wrath, her voice reverberating through every bone in the unicorn's body. “Celestia is my sister! When the sun falls, the moon rises to her aid, she must! It is my love, my responsibility! She is my sister! What makes you think you can take that from me? What gives you the right to be the one there for her?”

Twilight's ears wilted, her eyes wide, but even as she instinctively backed away, hiding, shying from the wrath of the night... she remembered.

Her body locked in place, her heart beating fit to burst, her spine becoming a rod of steel steady and unwavering... she remembered.

She was there in the hospital lobby, resting on couch cushions with Celestia, resting now, shoulder pressed to shoulder.

Then, they're in the familiar study, scrawling in unison on a blackboard, hard at work chasing down secrets,

Then, she burns her tongue on a mouthful of tea, mortified and beyond amused by Celestia's sly comments,

Then, Celestia is rising from her hospital bed, and Twilight feels every wince and jolt of pain that flashes bare across the princess' face,

Then, they are sitting in the warm circle of light beside the fireplace in Twilight's library, cosy in the long shadows, and a smile is tugging at Twilight's mouth as she says, “I've been thinking...”

Then, they are surrounded by notes and diagrams, trading and correcting each other's revelations,

Then, they are floating in scented water, a bashful sliver of paradise,

Then, she is falling asleep in her arms,

Then it all shattered, and –

She saw...

Celestia, perched high above Equestria on the ledge of that tiny bridge, her eyes locked with Twilight as she began to fall.

She smelled...

Spice. Celestia's scent, sandalwood lingering on her lavender coat, drawing her back into memory,

She heard...

Roaring, the ocean of flames and the crashing of machinery all around her as she desperately searched for her princess.

She felt...

Heat. The savage claws of fire as she held her in her arms. The soothing embrace of water as she held her in her arms.

She tasted...

Blood.

Blood on her lips, as she pleaded desperately, as she wept uncontrollably, and all she wanted, more than anything, was for Celestia to hear her, to know the truth.

Luna's question rang out. “What right do you have to be there for her?”

The answer was obvious, more terrible than the storm before her. Unable to hide, Twilight blurted it out in a rush of realization.

“I have as much right as anypony who has loved another.”

Twilight's heart thundered against her ribs, and her jaw shifted loosely as she felt her way around the words, fascinated and terrified by them in equal measure.

“I'm in love with her,” she said, repeating her admission. She looked up at Luna, who stood stunned, rooted in place. “I have as much right as anyone who is in love to see this through, to whatever end I find. I know it might not seem like much of a reason, but I love her, and... I...”

She remembered the goddess floating in the pool, inviting and open.

She remembered the mare lying in the bed, begging her to stay for just one night, and held her, and needed her.

Slowly and carefully, Twilight finished her admission. “And she needs me. I know that for certain. So I'm going to find her, and be there for her. Because I love her.”

She didn't wait for Luna's reaction. The rose light of her horn overtook her and, with a snap-crack, she was back in her bedroom, looking through the window out at the bleeding sunset.

“I love her...” Twilight stared as the last sliver of the sun slipped below the horizon, and turned her head away. “I don't have to justify that. ”

~{C}~

Twilight raced up the winding steps leading to the only place she could think of that could hold a clue – the Tower Library, the favored haunt of her long-gone student days. Pushing through the doors, she squinted into the darkness inside – the sun had set and the lanterns above the stacks had yet to be lit, so that the only illumination in the great chamber was the lingering lavender of the night sky as it awaited the moon.

Twilight's ears pricked up as she heard a dull thud down one of the bookcases, the unmistakable sound of a book being dropped. Lighting her horn, she cast her eyes in the direction of the noise. “Hello? Is someone there?”

There was a startled yelp and another crash, a special sort of crash Twilight instantly recognised. She galloped forward, and was rewarded with the sight of her trusty assistant sprawled on the ground, massaging his head with a claw. “Twilight?” the dragon asked, blinking in surprise.

“Spike, thank goodness I found you!” Twilight smiled, relieved, but her good humor faded as she spotted an old tome lying half open on the ground.

Spike followed her eyes to the book, and with an embarrassed gasp, snatched it up and theatrically dusted it off. “Heh, uh, sorry...”

Twilight bit her tongue, holding back the reflexive reprimand about dropping books in the library, and instead looked the dragon over with a concerned eye. “Don't worry about it. I heard about what happened this morning. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you.”

Spike shrugged, downcast. “I dunno if there was anything you could've done, Twilight. I was asleep when something knocked me off the bed. By the time I got untangled from the blanket, the Princess was gone...”

Twilight nodded in sympathy. “It must have been scary. I'm glad I found you, but what are you doing here? Why didn't you stay at the castle?”

“Oh, well, I was, but, I couldn't just sit around.” He shrugged. “It was only about a minute after the Princess was gone that Princess Luna flew inside. She was really scared and acting weird – I wanted to go get you, but she said that'd be a bad idea, then called a bunch of the guards to her study. It was either wait around for you or Luna to come back, or come here and try to dig something up myself, so...”

“Good initiative.” Twilight smiled.

“Thanks, not that I've found much.” He glanced at his claws, wringing in nervousness. “Why didn't the Princess want you to help?”

Twilight sighed. There was no doubt which princess Spike was referring to. “I don't really know, Spike. It's complicated.” She rubbed her chin with her hoof. “When Celestia vanished, you said you got woken up, and then she was gone? Do you remember anything else?”

“It all happened really fast,” Spike said, shaking his head. “Sorry, I, I just didn't see anything.”

“No, Spike, you did fine. Don't you worry.” Twilight leaned down, nuzzling him reassuringly. “Now that my number-one assistant is here, there's no problem we can't solve!”

“You think so?”

Twilight nodded in honest confidence. “I do. Now, let's hit those books, shall we?”

Spike grinned wide, giving her an excited salute. “Yes ma'am! Where do we start?”

“Good question... Get me a copy of 'Lux Aeturnum: Carmina et Historias de Solaris Regina'. There's a first edition one somewhere here, that'll be the one with the most hints. I'll go find an atlas or something and see you in the map room.”

“I'm on it!” Spike pounded a claw into his fist, fired up, and ran, disappearing into the stacks. A moment later, he reappeared and ran in the opposite direction, shooting Twilight a sheepish smile. “History is that way...” he clarified as he vanished into the books once more.

Twilight glanced to the side, and caught a glimpse of the sky through the massive window at the heart of the chamber. Though the sun was set, the sky was still painted a hazy orange melting into blue. Part of Twilight urged her to check the sky, to see if the moon had risen, but instead, she turned her back on it. Keeping an ear out for any possible avalanches of books, Twilight dove inwards, deep into the shelves, knowing their layout like the back of her hoof.

Within moments she was in the depths of the library, a secluded oval nook dominated by a massive brass globe. With a jolt of magic she lit the lanterns hanging from the low ceiling, illuminating the room and setting the polished globe alight, its embossed surface glittering in the lamplight. Twilight paused, struck still for a moment in part by admiration of its craftsmanship, and a pang of melancholy and worry. A memory rose to mind, of her first visit to the maproom, her wonder at the globe and then Celestia's secret grin as she admitted that, as pretty as it was, the globe was centuries out of date and valuable only as decoration.

Shaking her head out of the thought, she began to scan the walls, lined with pigeonholes and adorned with massive ancient maps of Equestria and the lands beyond.

'That's strange... most of the maps I need are missing...' Cursing the disorder of the room, she stepped back and gave the shelves a second look.

She grimaced, spotting dozens of empty pigeonholes where the maps she needed should have rested. 'Either the library staff's standards have plummeted since I've been gone, or...'

“Pray tell, are these what you are searching for?” a voice behind her asked. Twilight stiffened, and glanced over her shoulder.

Behind the brass globe, half a dozen scrolls floating in her azure magic, stood Princess Luna, regarding Twilight with a calm, cautious expression. “Maps of Equestria and her environs, yes? Our cartographers and scouts found these invaluable today.”

“Those are categorized as technical, geographic resources declared free and open for public use under the Education and Development Reformation Act signed by the crown two centuries ago,” Twilight blurted out.

Luna blinked, and her eyes lit with a flash of hurt before she turned her head away. “There is little need for that,” she sighed, floating the maps towards Twilight.

Twilight stared at them, stunned, before plucking them out of air. “Thank you,” she murmured, her eyes lingering a moment longer on the night princess, who still avoided her gaze. Turning to a lectern, she unfurled the scrolls and began scanning each one in turn.

Awkwardness hung thick in the air, cloying the room between them, the soft ruffling of parchment becoming a deafening roar in the silence.

“Our cartographers have already searched those scrolls,” Luna said, her voice drifting over.

Twilight gave the sparsely populated pigeonholes on the wall an annoyed look. “Yes, I realize.”

Dark feathers ruffled on the corner of her sight. “We personally oversaw it, after scouring Our mind and this library for where Our sister might have retreated to.”

Twilight pursed her lips and clamped down on her tongue, and kept studying the maps.

The silence stretched out and broke under Luna's sigh. “Thou shalt not find what We could not,” she said with soft insistence.

Twilight scowled into the map. “And why exactly is that? Maybe you've had a whole team of ponies scouring for hints in the library, but I'm willing to bet I've spent more time talking to her about history in one day than any of them have in their lives. Combined!” She redoubled her stare, but to her frustration no insights burst from the ink in reward for her defiance. She grumbled, “I mean, probably...”

“The same could be said of you and I, could it not?” Luna murmured in response. Her wings tensed, pulled close against her body like coiled springs. “She and I have only ever had one another.”

“But that's not true.” The words tumbled out of Twilight's mouth, causing her to cringe, aghast at the frank reality now demanding to be addressed.

Stone-faced, Luna stared, betraying no response.

Twilight almost stopped, but between the daunting silence and the princess' searching eyes, she found the truth continued to slip from her tongue. “Putting everything else aside, you were gone, for a long time. Maybe you've always had her there, but for her...”

Luna's eyes shut, and Twilight paused, biting her lip. “You weren't always there...”

“And she was alone,” Luna finished for her, turning away a moment too late – Twilight caught a glimpse of her stone expression crumbling, before being obscured by the starry veil of her mane. “Perchance you do find her? What, pray, would you do then?”

“What? Oh...” Twilight blinked, caught off-balance by the swift return to the crisis at hoof. “Well, I'll make sure she's okay. I'll bring her back, if that's what she wants. Or I won't. Whatever she wants, I'll do that.”

“Because you are in love with her.” An eye peeked out from over the princess' shoulder, careful and observant.

“Because I'm her friend,” Twilight corrected.

Luna's eyes closed, seemingly satisfied. “You are, aren't you?”

Twilight turned to fully face the princess, confusion echoing through her mind. “What do you mean by that?”

Luna did not reply immediately, instead looking towards the brass globe, as if searching it for the right words. “I was uncertain about your intentions towards her,” she said. “There have been many who have tried to manipulate her, even when professing to love her. I saw pain within her, Twilight. Pain that has been building, and I grew uncertain. That is why I did not involve you.”

Twilight bit her lip, and for a ghost of a moment tasted blood that was not her own. The shame she had drowned in surged up once more, but only as an echo, and she found her frustrations and malaise with Luna begin to drain away. After all, hadn't she been paralyzed by her own feelings, for that same fear?

“I – I guess I understand.” Twilight managed a nod. “But I don't know if that was very fair.”

Luna released a deep sigh, and her horn began to glow softly. Under her gaze, the brass globe began to turn, the massive wrought orb creaking as its long-unattended joints resumed its forgotten simulacrum of orbit. “Forgive me, Twilight. Forgive its necessity. Caution was needed, but all of this was meant to be resolved by now. I intended to find Celestia before confronting you on this matter.”

Her magic faded, and the globe creaked to a halt, with brass Equestria resting between them. “Alas, she is nowhere to be found.”

Twilight stepped closer to her. “We'll find her,” she said.

Luna's head dropped, slow and weary, seemingly as if she were giving into a suffocating weight pressing down on her crown. “In truth, finding her is only part of my concern. My greatest fear is the condition we might find her in.”

“Her injuries are stable,” Twilight began, before she felt her heart sink, her voice growing low. “But that's not what you're talking about, is it?”

Luna shook her head. “Something terrible lurks within her. Pain. Sadness. I know not its true cause but I fear what it has done to her. I fear she is lost in a nightmare.”

“W-what?” Twilight sputtered, but there was no mistaking Luna's words, and her tone held no illusions.

There could only be one thing the princess of the night, of all ponies, could mean by Celestia being in a nightmare.

“She and I, we have been so distant ever since my return. No.... that is not true. We are close, closer than we have ever been, and yet we are still divided by a veil. Such a scant distance, and yet, so far I cannot see her as clearly as I once did. So, while she dreamed, I thought to visit her. ” Luna paused, swallowing as a shadow passed over her expression. She stole a glance at Twilight, meeting her eyes briefly, before going on. “I confronted her about what she feels for – well, about many things. About how she can be dishonest with herself, about the mask that yet divides us so, that she presses tight to her face and believes me not to notice.”

“What happened?”

“I pushed her, and the mask broke, and her mind...” Luna took a sharp breath, her voice laden with guilt. “She is haunted by a terrible ghost, one born of the deepest pain, and it tore through her psyche. We were both trapped within her mind as it all collapsed. I did my best to stabilize her mind, but could no more hold the sheer cascade of emotion than a fish can hold back a waterfall. By the time I recovered, she had vanished from her own dream.”

“How is that even possible?”

“Tis a waking nightmare, Twilight Sparkle!” Luna scowled in frustration, but it quickly faded back into her tired worry. “And I fear she is yet lost within it. I woke from the dream as soon as I was able and raced to be by her side, to aid her, but found her chambers as you did. Gone without a trace.”

Twilight felt her stomach begin to knot itself, twisting in worry. “So, you think she's having a nightmare? A breakdown? We –”
Her words dried up as her mind rushed back to her ruined laboratory, where the shards of crystal fear and darkness lay. Her hoof shot to her mouth as the horrible realization dawned. “Oh no... Luna, I think...”

“What is it? You know something of this?” Luna turned to face her, alarmed by her sudden shift.

Twilight nodded, eyes darting as she sought connections. “I-I think so. Luna, in the laboratory – it was the reason why I rushed here in the first place, I needed to report it to Celestia – in the wreckage, we found dark crystals, evidence of dark magical forces. I don't know why or how they were there, but Celestia was right in the center of that disaster. There must be a connection.”

Luna fixed her with a wary look. “Are you absolutely sure it was dark magic?”

“Positive, I tested it personally. It felt like concentrated regret and loss.” Twilight shuddered. “Pure negativity. I'd recognize that feeling anywhere.”

“You recognized it?” Luna gasped in horror. “How?”

Twilight was dumbstruck. “Luna, I – I've known for years how to use dark magic.”

The princess drew herself up, brandishing her authority with flaring wings. “Does my sister know of this?”

Now it was Twilight's turn to stare incredulously. “Luna, she was the one who showed me the rudiments of dark magic – when the Crystal Empire returned, remember? She wanted me to know what I'd be up against...” She trailed off in the face of the princess' frozen form.

“No. Untrue.” Luna stomped her hoof, flatly denying what she heard. “You are... you are mistaken. The darkness cannot touch my sister, she is light incarnate –”

“Luna, she's the one who showed me what it could do. It's not like she found it pleasant, and she used her light magic to burn away the effects afterward, but –”

“No, Twilight, you simply do not understand,” Luna insisted, a thread of desperation weaving into her words. “Dark magic is twisted, it requires more than mere bad thoughts – resentment, anger, sorrow, only deep emotional instability and pain can spark the dark flames and grant that terrible magic.”

Twilight's brow furrowed at this new knowledge, knowing Luna was speaking from harsh experience.

'I cast it just fine... though I guess it'd be a stretch to call me a paragon of stability.'

“Luna, you just described to me how Celestia is trapped in a nightmare,” she said instead, taking care to hold a neutral tone. “How could that be, if she doesn't have the feelings that you're saying make dark magic possible?”

“She does not have –!” The thread of refusal snapped taught, and Luna froze, suspended between her own words and the truth Twilight claimed. Denial danced in her eyes, but as they met the unicorn's, something within them crumbled. A flash of mourning passed over her face before her eyes shut in quiet acceptance. “I... I had no sense of such darkness in her. None at all...! But if what you say is true, if she showed it to you years ago, then...”

Twilight then saw what Luna had realised. “Then... she's always had those feelings?”

“Not before.” Luna shook her head, her wings curling around herself. “I believed this pain to be recent. If tis not, then I...”
Her eyes snapped towards Twilight's. “Heed me now. The dream we shared was a nightmare. The ruins of our ancient home crumbled, torn apart by a monster that bore my sister's face until it was crushed by the rubble of its own destruction. A great torrent of water crashed down on us, and Celestia was swept away by the waterfall. I could not save her – her mind pushed me away.”

“The castle in the Everfree forest? I see...” Twilight mulled over this new information, letting her horn glow. Her quill on the lectern floated in the air and scrawled 'Castle' on a leaf of blank parchment. Twilight paused, and scribbled 'Waterfalls?' beside it, linking the two with a line. “What did the waterfall mean? Was there a waterfall in your old castle?”

“Nay, there was not. I caution you against judging nightmares by their immediate appearances. I remind you that she was overwhelmed by emotions – the waterfall was that, manifest.”

Twilight nodded, scribbling down further notes, but her line of thought was interrupted as Luna walked past her.
“I shall make the scouting reports available to you,” Luna announced, stepping quickly towards the door. “I trust you to handle the matter from here.”

Twilight's jaw flapped open and shut a few times before she found words again. “You're leaving? But Princess, if we work together –!”

The princess paused at the doorframe, her body edging into the shadows of the unlit library. “I have pursued every avenue available to me, and despite all my power I have found nothing. I know why, now. I should have seen right away.” Her head bowed, and, as she swallowed a lump in her throat, she offered Twilight a wan smile. “It must be you. Bring her back to me.”
Before Twilight could speak another word, before she could ask if her friend had returned, Luna was gone, a ghost fading into the darkness of the library with a single stride.

Alone, Twilight's eyes slid from the dark doorway to the parchment in the lamplight, holding the clues Luna had revealed to her. 'Castle' and 'Waterfalls', images from a dream – unreliable at best, but Luna clearly felt something in them was important. Twilight didn't want to doubt the princess of the night’s convictions, but she couldn't deny that a dream could mean anything.

A hurried patter of clawed feet on stone caught her attention, and she turned back to the door to see Spike scurry inside, arms laden with a huge book twice his size. “Got it!” he wheezed, lifting the biography over his head, proffering it to her. “It was at the back of the very top shelves and the ladder's wheels got a little caught so I needed kind of shimmy along the shelves a little, but...”

His sheepish grin petered out alongside his trailing words, and he glanced over his shoulder back at the door. “So, was that Princess Luna? Did, uh, did I miss something?”

Where to begin? “A bit,” Twilight said with a soft chuckle, lifting the heavy book from his arms with her magic.

Spike fiddled with his thumbs. “Isn't she going to help?”

“She's done everything she can, Spike. Now it's up to us.”

Spike gave an enthusiastic salute, either missing or ignoring the worry in her voice. “Then the best pony is on the job, am I right?”

Twilight hesitated. 'It must be you.'

A flicker of doubt wormed its way into her, but she squashed down on it mercilessly. 'There's no time for second guesses! Celestia needs you. Luna is relying on you. You have Spike, you have clues, and you have books.'

Her horn glowed, basking the room in a rosy balm. Maps burst off the lecterns and unfurled in the air, the heavy 'Lux Aeturnum' opened itself before Twilight, its pages rapidly turning under an intangible breeze, and Twilight returned Spike's grin with a determined smile of her own. “You're right. We can do this. Let's get to work!”

~{C}~

The moon was waiting, high and bright in the sky, when Twilight returned to the castle, a sleeping Spike on her back, a saddlebag filled with notes and maps at her side, and a heart burdened with frustration and worry.

Despite hours of work, searching for castles and hideaways and sanctuaries throughout Celestia's past, they had found nothing. The fact of the matter was that every avenue they searched, Luna had already pursued, especially focusing on the castle she had lived in a thousand years ago. Twilight compared her suspicions with the reports written in Luna's own hoof, and couldn't deny their thoroughness. Everywhere Twilight could think to look, Luna's scouts had already combed – they had searched sanctuaries and battlefields and landmarks of joy and sorrow and pain and healing alike, and Celestia was nowhere to be found.

Determination and despair battled in Twilight's mind as she walked through the quiet corridors. Part of her mind was putting together a detailed plan to survey the Everfree Forest with her friends and Luna's scouts, perhaps find some secret passage or sanctuary Celestia kept hidden. Another part of her feared for the dark magic found in her experiment, and the nightmare Luna had related – could Celestia become consumed by the pain she had been hiding for so long? The thought drifted through Twilight's mind and she knew if it did occur, she would only blame herself for not reaching her mentor in time.

But the truth was Twilight's mind and heart were elsewhere, pulling her back to the morning in the spa they had shared together. Of Celestia smiling with her, confiding in her... that precious glimpse of her honest friendship sustained her. It was childish, but Twilight wished they could go back to that morning and just bask in it once more, where no nightmares or darkness could reach them. 'At the very least, I could have been there for her when the nightmare struck...'

Twilight stepped through a doorway and out into the night sky, and found herself on the bridge leading to Celestia's private tower. It seemed like months, years since she had arrived on this bridge by chariot, lending Celestia a hoof as they made their way back to her apartments.

Twilight didn't know what to make of it at the time. After the ordeal of the explosion, her mind had been so scattered, her heart so strained, all she had known for sure was that Celestia was hurting and that she needed Twilight there. That was when things truly changed – something rekindled, or maybe some wall had crumbled, but whatever the cause, Twilight hadn't been ready for it.

“I'm ready now, but what good is it if I can't find you?” Twilight stared into the night, searching for an answer, for a reassurance that there was hope. “How can I be there for you like this when you're so far away, and I'm left behind chasing castles and waterfalls?”

She stared out into the dark horizon, at the shadows of the landscape below and the soft velvet black of the clouds above and the moonlight cascading down between them, glittering in the rivers snaking through the land.

Twilight stared at the glimmering light, and saw crystals – studded in Celestia's regalia, and floating in the water of her grand experiment, and hidden in cavernous depths unknown.

And suddenly she knew where Celestia was.

A flash of understanding, and a crushing hope. The clues clicked in place and Twilight was running, jostling Spike on her back as she accelerated into a frenzied gallop, shoving the heavy tower door open with barely a thought. Her hooves ate the winding steps and she was deaf to Spike's panicked yelp and numb to his claws digging into her coat for purchase.

She burst past the solitary guard stationed at the princess' doorway, and screeched to a halt within her bedroom. Safe at last, Spike flopped off her back, in a daze. “Twilight, what?”

“Spike, I know where Celestia is!” Twilight grinned, giddy and desperate. “There's only one possibility! Only one!”

Spike said something, alert now, but Twilight didn't hear him – her mind was spinning, double-checking her realization. “I've been so stupid! We've been looking all over Equestria for clues, but it's no wonder we couldn't find the castle! We shouldn’t even have been looking for them! It was so obvious! We didn't even need the dream – Celestia already told me everything I need!”

Before Spike could form a coherent question, Twilight was running. She rushed to the balcony, back out into the open air, and listened.

The night was quiet. The only sound was the whisper of the night wind... and the distant roar spilling from the mountain below.

'Could it be that simple?' Twilight couldn't restrain the terrible hope filling her body. 'This whole time? We searched and searched, but this whole time she's been... alone...'

Her vision was blurring, and she realized she was crying. “I'm sorry. I thought you flew away.”

Spike hovered over to her, giving her a concerned eye. “Twilight, what's going on?”

She turned to him, and spared him one last smile. “I'm going to go find Celestia.” Then she turned back to the balcony, and ran.

Time slowed, and she pushed herself forward. Her hooves hit the stone as her resolve hardened, she broke into a gallop as her doubts broke away. Spike and the guard behind her called out in alarm, but she had already hit the stone again in her second stride, already rearing her front legs up, already jumping over the marble balustrade.

She was flying, wind whipping past her face, stinging her eyes and drying her tears, the castle falling away behind her.

She was falling, down, down towards the darkness of the night, towards the roar of the unknown, and...

Towards Celestia.

~{C}~

Composure, Chapter 7, end.

Author's Note

Thank you for reading.

Next chapter, the conclusion.