What She Deserves

Starlight Glimmer drifted through the haze of dream, her mind archiving only fleeting feelings and ideas from the threads it unspooled around her. Later, she would only recall the warmth of feeling and the idea of simply being present with a pony she can't remember, but who would certainly be out of her league.

This is why, when she was suddenly yanked free by a sharp rap on her bedroom door, her emotions spiked with frustration, quickly followed by the groggy confusion of a rude awakening. The knock came again, not the clumsy clop of a hoof on wood, but the short staccato taps of a creature actually possessed of knuckles. Taking her time to wake up as she hauled herself free of the covers and across the floor to the door, Starlight was not at all surprised to find Spike.

The little dragon wore a scowl, and without even a preamble, he let himself in and threw himself onto a beanbag chair that, Starlight had to admit, she kept around just for him. A few beats of silence dragged on towards infinity before Starlight broke it with a polite cough, “Soooo… How was the trip to the Crystal Empire?”

Spike threw his claws towards the ceiling, tipping back in the soft fabric of the chair, “Oh it was great. Shining Armor and Cadance are great! The baby is doing great! Even Sunburst is juuust great!”

“That's, um, great then?” Starlight raised an eyebrow waiting for the other horseshoe to drop.

“It's always great! Right up until we get home and Twilight starts moping about it!” He let out a snort of frustration, a gout of green flame following quickly behind it. “You've gotta do something. I've had enough.”

Starlight Glimmer blinked, absorbing this. It was rare for Twilight to be out and about much the day after a trip to the Crystal Empire, but that's just normal isn't it? Everypony could use a bit of rest after a big trip, right? And what is there even to mope about when everything is going well, why would she have to do- “Hang on a second, why me? If she's upset about something, whatever it is, doesn't she have friends for that? Not that I'm not her friend, I mean of course I am, I lllike, yeah, really really like her, but you know what I mean!” She clamped her hooves to her snout before her running mouth could cross the finish line.

Spike rolled his eyes and lifted up his claws to count off each finger, “Yeah they'd cheer her up real quick. Pinkie Pie would throw her a cheer-up party, Applejack would bring her a dozen apple fritters, Fluttershy thinks Angel can cure anything, Rainbow Dash would drag her out flying, and Rarity…” He blinked as he momentarily lost the train of thought, “Well a new outfit and a gallon of ice cream aren't going to solve the real problem.”

Starlight, still feeling a bit funny in the pit of her stomach, freed her mouth enough to ask, “But what is the real problem, Spike?”

As if he'd been waiting for the punchline of a joke, as if he simply couldn't help himself, Spike cracked a smirk, “I don't know, I think it's some kind of Mare Thing.” With that, his legs kicked up and his body reclined into the gentle hug of the chair, and with impressive speed, he began to snore.

Being the clear-headed, reasonable, down to earth mare that she is, Starlight chose to nervously pace about two halls down from Twilight's bedroom, so as not to disturb her. She couldn't put the pieces together. If the trip went well, where was the problem? Was there an issue she couldn't tell Spike? Could there be something wrong with the baby? But the baby was already born so that didn't seem much like a Mare Thing to her.

It wasn't long before other panicked thoughts began to worm their way into her head. Was Spike really right about Twilight's friends? Surely they'd be a better fit for the job than a reformed villain. If anybody had moped on her watch she would have tried to magic them better and call it a day. She hardly even deserved to be friends with somebody as great as Twilight, hardly even deserved…

No, she almost spoke aloud, Twilight says I deserve friendship. Twilight says I deserve the world. The words felt so hollow bouncing around her skull rather than right from the mouth of the beloved princess, but Starlight still clung to them like a life raft. If Twilight thinks I deserve the world, then she at least deserves my help.

As it turned out, beginning her pacing so far away was neither clear-headed nor reasonable, as each step closer built up the nerves and anticipation in her head. The sound of her hoof against the solid wooden door was like a thundercrack, echoing down the hall both ways, then drifting back to her. The latch clicked, and the hinge let out a soft whine as the door cracked open. Starlight Glimmer took a heavy breath and nosed her way through.

“Twilight?” She murmured into the gloom, just barely making out the purple silhouette sprawled across the bed. From what she could see by the sliver of light cast from the door, the room seemed perfect, almost untouched. It looked as if Twilight hadn't done anything but lay in bed since returning from the Crystal Empire.

“Oh, Starlight, I'm so sorry, were we scheduled for a lesson today? I'm afraid I'm a bit tired from my trip, we'll have to reschedule.” The quiver in Twilight Sparkle’s voice almost overrode every rational thought in Starlight's head. She wanted to rush over and hug and kiss and nuzzle Twilight and fix everything that was wrong, everything that could possibly be wrong.

Instead, reason won out, “Oh, haha, no, you didn't forget a lesson plan or anything, believe me. Spike was just… Concerned about you.” She did her best to phrase it diplomatically, ‘sick and tired of you’ seemed to lack tact. “And now maybe I am too.”

Twilight lifted her head, her mane a frizzing mess and her eyes wet with sparkles catching that stray beam of light. She forced a smile, “Really, Starlight, I'm just tired. There's nothing to be worried about, nothing's wrong, I'm just… Just not fooling you, am I?” There was a gentle thud as her head flopped back to its resting place.

All of Starlight's screaming nerves were subsumed by one thought, utterly cool and collected, she really does need my help. I have to help her. Resolve washed through her, calming the agitation of her anticipation. Here she was, and here she was needed.

In one smooth motion, she closed the door, slid a sitting stool from the vanity to the bedside, and marched her way to it. She was resolute now, and it showed in her confident trek across the room to the seat in near pitch-black. “Twilight, it's bad enough that Spike doesn't think a Pinkie Pie Party and a gallon tub of ice cream could fix you. What's the matter?”

The princess was close now, her sprawled form closest to the edge of the bed Starlight sat beside. She is moping, Starlight decided, this isn't something new, some bad news she got in the Crystal Empire. It's something she's been feeling, maybe something she's always feeling. Her heart gave a pang, a twinge, a cry of need, but her head held steady.

“Do you worry about your legacy, Starlight?” Twilight's voice was hollow and reedy, no longer putting on a brave face. Starlight was caught off guard by the gravity of the question, and Twilight must have taken her silence for confusion. “Do you think about what you'll leave behind? That you might not be here one day, that you'll only exist in records and memories?”

Starlight did her best to recover from the surprise, “Twilight, if I'm leaving any kind of legacy, it's in the history books as one of the villains you defeated. Maybe at best I go down in the annals of history as the unicorn you fixed, and probably both of those are better than being the unicorn who stole what made everypony special.” She tried a small laugh for some levity, but the echo in reply felt harsh in her ears. “Is this about you? Have you been thinking about your legacy? You're the Princess of Friendship, what legacy could you have but a good one!”

“You're right. I am the Princess of Friendship.” Starlight didn't think she was just imagining the bitter venom in Twilight's voice. “That's what everypony expects of me. What I was made into, or what I became.”

“You've brought princesses back together, saved empires, toppled dictators, and saved Equestria Celestia-knows how many times. And she does know because you've got a stained glass window in Canterlot for every one of them!” Starlight could feel her steady resolve slowly peeling back as the weight of the princess’s concern, not even fully revealed, began to settle up on her. “I don't know what you're worrying about, but your legacy is secure. Everypony adores you. You're going to live for a thousand thousand years, you are your own legacy!”

Twilight's head snapped up, her silhouette jerking in the dark and startling Starlight backwards in her seat. If Starlight could see Twilight's eyes, she was certain there would be a fire blazing in them. But just as quickly as the fire formed, it blew out and Twilight's form sagged once again, “Right. Princess of Friendship. That's me. Forever.”

Panic and concern were truly clawing their way back in now, “Twilight, please, I don't understand what's got you so upset. Do you not like being Princess? I'm sure we could figure something out to take the pressure off, but I need you to tell me what's wrong.” She let her horn cast just the dimmest light, enough to show Twilight the sympathy on her face.

In the light, Twilight's face fell further. “It's… it's nothing, Starlight. I thought maybe I'd be able to talk to you about it, but you're the same as the rest. You should go, I wouldn't want to get in the way of your adoring me.” Starlight didn't have a chance to respond before there was a blinding flash of magic, a spinning vertigo sensation, and she found herself sitting outside of Twilight's bedroom door.

As tears began to sting at the corners of her eyes, Starlight Glimmer was left with the despair that she had just missed something important, something so crucial and fleeting she'd never find it again.

Three days later, life in Ponyville was back to normal. After a day of what Twilight Sparkle assured everypony was relaxing and rejuvenating, she had resumed her routine in impressive fashion, so much so that even Spike believed the issue solved. Everything was as it should be, and everypony was happy, except for Starlight Glimmer, who was playing hooky on her friendship lessons.

Camped in the castle library, Starlight's typical slate of grimoires, tomes, and assorted spell books had been replaced by stacks of treatises and histories on the Equestrian princesses. Every few minutes she hastily scribbled a note to be transported and re-rendered on the conspiratorial pinboard that now occupied one wall of her room.

There was an ache deep in her heart, a feeling of betrayal that Twilight had not even once come to scold her for missing lessons. Was she not worth it anymore, if all she could offer the princess was the same adoration she could get from anypony? Did she speak some unforgivable treason she was unaware of? These thoughts threatened to consume her, and so in turn she consumed her work, devouring pages upon pages of literature on the legacy of a princess, of all the princesses. Nothing eased the hurt.

Every time she stared at her board of pins and pictures and quotes, replaying every sentence of their conversation, every word, she felt the wound in her chest loom large, threatening to spill out every piece of her. She didn't know pain like this. She didn't know friendship could hurt so much. Night stole away the day, and day sheared away the night, and all Starlight could do is dig into that pain, bury herself in it, torture herself upon it.

And out of her chest, out of the pain of feeling what she forced herself to feel, she was startled to find revelation. More than just friendship can hurt like this. The notion was so simple, so foalish, so obvious. She just had to laugh, and the laugh found its way free as a choked sob.

The Princess of Friendship was lonely!

Twilight Sparkle was in her study, sequestered behind walls of books with parapets of notepaper. The extensive plans for the school's construction and curriculum provided safe haven to tend to her growing exhaustion, her cheeks and mouth sore from putting on a brave face. She didn't want to worry her friends, but something had caved inside of her. She felt hollow.

She flinched at the sudden knock on the door, mustering up a smile. “Come in!” She called, offering a silent prayer to Celestia for it to be anypony other than-

But of course it was Starlight Glimmer. Twilight knew it was only a matter of time, that she could only avoid her for so long before Starlight would come calling, come asking questions and demanding answers that would peel apart her fragile shell. She opened her mouth to speak. To greet her. To apologize for their missed lessons or maybe beg her to forget they even talked. To explain that she really was just tired and it was all nothing. She didn't get a single word out.

“No. No, I'm… I'm talking, and you're going to listen, Twilight,” Starlight was punctuated by her hooves nervous clopping against the floor. Twilight closed her mouth and Starlight almost looked surprised when she did. “Because you're wrong, you're so wrong. Your friends don't- I mean, for them, it's not just blind adoration. They care about you so much! Princess or not, savior of Equestria or not, they love you so much! And I'm sure if you wanted to- to be with any one of those five then they'd know they're the luckiest mare in all of Equestria, maybe even the world.” Starlight's face fell as she managed to finish her speech, “You don't have to be lonely, Twilight, please don't choose to be…”

The lump in Twilight's throat was big enough to choke on. She shook her head, blinking back tears. “You don't get it. Being a princess isn't just doing whatever you like. Telling me to just pick one of them like they're a litter of puppies to take home?” Twilight felt like she was back in her room just a few days ago, torn down the middle by rage and despair, “You ponies don't think about the implication! The look of it! Princess of Friendship and her 5 special friends, but that one is more special than the others!” Her blood was boiling as she rose from the desk.

Starlight shrank back, knowing she'd just lost her initiative but trying regardless to respond, “But- I didn't- Did you… Talk to somepony else…?”

Twilight had too much momentum to acknowledge her, “It's so easy for the Princess of Loooove to give advice, but it's practically her whole job! It's not my job to fall in love with my friends, no matter how deeply they care for me, no matter how well they know me or how vulnerable I can be with them, they're just my friends!” She was panting now, her throat catching on the top of each breath, “And that's it for me. That's all I get. That's my legacy.”

Starlight stared at her for a long moment, an eternity under that sympathetic and almost fearful gaze. “Twilight…” Her voice was warm, and it didn't shake, “Don't you think Princess Cadance has friends?”

“What?” Twilight's brain began to chase itself in circles trying to figure out where Starlight was leading her, “Of course she does, she had bridesmaids at her wedding and everything.”

“So…?” Starlight had broken into a smirk now, no longer meek in the face of a princess’s wrath.

“So what? What's that got to do with anything! Do you even understand what we're talking about? This isn't about just friends, or, or it is but that's the problem!”

“So the Princess of Love seems to do a fine job even if she's got perfectly normal friendships. Certainly she's not stepping on your hooves…?” The question in her voice made it so painfully obvious Twilight couldn't help but slap a hoof to her face and groan.

“Okay, I get it, the Princess of Love can have friends, so the Princess of Friendship can… Be in love.” She managed to get the words out with some dignity, but by now her frustration had cooled into flustered embarrassment. “But I can't just pick and choose one of my five best friends in the whole world!”

“Maybe you're right about that. Maybe it's not fair to pick one of them, maybe it really would, I don't know, undermine the geopolitics of Equestrian friendship. You're right that maybe us normal ponies don't think about that sort of thing,” Starlight closed her eyes and breathed out a sigh, “but maybe there's some other pony in your life who you could care about that way. Some other pony you can talk to, somepony who might not totally get all the princess stuff but she's always there to listen and…” She trailed off, suddenly finding some corner of the room very interesting to stare at.

Twilight couldn't help but look at her, really look at her. This mare who was driven to evil, this mare whose heart was filled with good once she found her way to it. She grinned, “Starlight, do you mean-”

“OOookay well that's all I wanted to say I hope you feel better Twilight gotta go BYE!” There was a surge of magic and a flurry of loose leaf paper, and Twilight was alone in the study once again.

High up on a hill overlooking Ponyville, a tiny purple speck of an alicorn labored meticulously over her preparations. Ever the perfectionist, she worried over the precise angle of the blanket, the exact arrangement of the basket, the layout of the silverware. Really, it was all set, as it had been an hour ago when she had first began to double check, triple check. In the middle of check number 15, she froze, catching the distant sounds of two good friends bantering as a wagon clunked its way up the hill.

The wagon crested, bearing Trixie and a blindfolded Starlight, who immediately began to pester Trixie as to why they stopped. Twilight watched from a distance as they approached, Starlight guided by Trixie. As they reached the blanket, Twilight undid Starlight's blindfold and let the breeze take it away.

“That was Trixie's blindfold, you know,” Trixie grumbled just as Starlight registered the sight in front of her and froze stiff.

“Yes, Trixie, I'll get you a new one, thank you Trixie.” Twilight replied, distracted, her eyes not leaving Starlight for a moment. She still wasn't sure if the unicorn was about to bolt.

“Ahem,” Trixie enunciated, not even actually clearing her throat.

“And I'll send Spike with the books later. Some space please?” Satisfied with that, the wagon turned and began to rumble its way back down the hill. Twilight patted an open spot on the picnic blanket, “Please Starlight, sit with me? You don't have to say anything.”

Starlight nodded and stiffly folded herself down onto the blanket. Her eyes finally wandered away from Twilight and towards the view, encompassing all of Ponyville from the town square to where Sweet Apple Acres met the horizon. It was beautiful, she realized. It was home. She stole a glance at Twilight and found her looking out from the hill as well. However, the alicorn wasn't staring to the horizon. Her eyes bore straight into the center of town. Following her gaze, Starlight found herself looking at a sight she'd certainly seen, and certainly disregarded. It was some kind of ruin in the middle of town, a burned out tree with a pile of rubble around it.

“There used to be a library here. I lived there when I first moved to Ponyville. I'm sure it was Celestia’s idea, that I'd be more comfortable in a new place as long as I had my books. When I think about the last time I felt normal, when I felt like I knew who I was and what I was supposed to be, I think about the library.” Twilight's gaze dropped towards the picnic basket, fishing out tea preparations kept suitably warm with magic. She poured cups for the both of them, sugar for Starlight remembered as always, continuing on, “It was destroyed by a villain who only came here for me. All those ponies in danger, just for me. That's when it stopped feeling normal. That's when I stopped being anypony and started being a princess.”

Starlight took her tea with a quiet thanks, eyes still locked on the charred husk of the Golden Oak Library. She thought of the history of Princess Twilight Sparkle, ascended long before Starlight Glimmer had ever met her. She thought of the records of the still-living mare’s deeds. The way those records capture the hero, the myth, the Princess and not the pony. Her head was spinning and her traitorous tongue was done with anticipation, “Twilight, I-”

“I'm not done yet, Starlight,” Twilight chided gently, smiling and turning her gaze towards the unicorn, “You see right through me, even now you're guessing what I'm going to say. You see right through Princess Twilight Sparkle. Maybe you don't even see the princess at all. You saw me, Twilight Sparkle, your friend, in need. You see Twilight Sparkle who deserves more than just a friend. Don't you deserve that too, Starlight? Would you even let yourself think so?”

Starlight tried to keep a calm face by taking a sip of her tea, but the perfection of the flavor, the care apparent in its creation battered at her heart and made her sputter. She coughed and hacked and turned away, words lost to her entirely. Twilight gave her space, looking back out to the horizon. There was a comfortable quiet, broken only by wind through grass and the occasional slurp of tea. Starlight spent most of that time trying to put the right words in the right order.

“Twilight, even if I do- did like you… like that. It's not right! You're my teacher, a princess, and I tried to ruin your life, I was a villain. No, it wouldn't be right.” There was a desperate edge to Starlight's voice, uncertain who she even meant to convince.

Twilight just smiled that gentle smile and patted a spot right next to her, “You don't have to be a villain and I don't have to be a princess. Maybe together we're just Twilight Sparkle and Starlight Glimmer.” She tilted her head back, encouraging Starlight over again. Starlight hesitated, then finally, awkwardly scooted herself next to Twilight.

The sun had begun to set and the air was cooling, but Twilight laid one long wing over Starlight's shoulders like a blanket. Together, they watched the golds and reds and oranges of the dying day wash over Ponyville.

“I think I love you, Starlight Glimmer.”

“I think I love you too, Twilight Sparkle.”

Starlight closed her eyes, content to enjoy the warmth and presence of a pony who was definitely out of her league. She shut her eyes, and dreamed.