The Party Will Still Be There

Chapters

A Season of Giving
A Season of Joy
A Time to be True
And a Time to be Kind
So Turn Not From Your Loved Ones
And Forgive Them Their Crimes

A Season of Giving

Out of their many aunts, Cheesecake has always liked Twilight Sparkle the least.

Well, no, that's not quite the right way to put it, because it would imply that Cheesecake dislikes Auntie Twilight. They do like her - love her, even, the same way they love the rest of their very extensive extended family. It's just that...

Well...

She's always acted a bit off around them; like she's never seen them for them, exactly.

"Thanks again, Auntie Twilight," Cheesecake says, absently prodding at the Hearth's Warming dolls of themself and their mom and Auntie Twilight and Uncle Spike, sat in their limp, haphazard way above the fireplace,"I really do appreciate you doing this for mom. I know she does, too."

"Of course, Cheesecake," The Princess of Friendship smiles beatifically at her oldest and closest friend's child. It doesn't quite reach her eyes when she says, "I completely understand why she wouldn't want to be alone in Sugarcube Corner right now."

"Well, still, I'm grateful," the smile Cheesecake gives in return is a wan little thing, lips tight and thin, and yet their eyes sparkle with real affection.

Despite their misgivings.

Silently they turn their gaze back on the rest of the room; the banquet hall of Twilight's castle, half-bedecked in tinsel and trinkets hanging down from rafters and high, thin ledges or sitting across the high-up tops of windows. Boxes of yet more festive accoutrement sit scattered about the room, plain cardboard a sharp contrast to the bright reds and greens and golds and silvers - all very standard, of course, but, well, a Princess of Equestria hardly has the luxury to go wild with her choice in holiday party decoration. Twilight and Cheesecake set to hanging what has yet to be hung, preparing the space for the upcoming festivities with a precise efficiency that can only be achieved by a life-long organizer and the child of two of history's greatest party planners.

They hardly have to communicate, in sync despite the rarity of such collaborations between the two, but eventually Cheesecake says:

"You know, I'm honestly surprised she didn't want to take a break from the place sooner. I mean, six moons..."

"Everypony processes grief differently," Twilight Sparkle slips slightly into a didactic tone despite herself, "delayed reactions like this aren't all that uncommon: a pony might feel intensely sad immediately following the loss of a loved one but seem to get over it fairly quickly, going through business as usual for a while like everything's fine, and then..."

"...It just hits you all over again," Cheesecake finishes the thought with a knowing nod.

"Sometimes relapses into grief like this can happen years after a loss. This is the first time Pinkie has spent a Hearth's Warming without-" Twilight hesitates briefly, so briefly, hardly noticeable even as the slightest hitch in her voice, and recovers so quickly her next choice of words seems utterly natural, "-your father in... well, decades."

"Gonna be a looooong way from the last," Cheesecake remarks sardonically.

"She'll be fine," she replies, and the smile that crosses her face this time is real, soft and warm from a lifetime of affection sitting between her lips, "Your mom is a lot tougher than most creatures give her credit for."

"Don't have to tell me. I remember when you fought off Sombra's shade that time, just the two of you. I took being grounded way more seriously for MONTHS after that - the best behaved little foal in Ponyville."

"A shame it didn't last," Twilight Sparkle teases, and for a rare moment Cheesecake actually feels a real connection to their aunt, "It was, what, a month and a half later that you and Rainbow Dash burned down that banana stand?"

"It was mostly Aunt Dash..." they grumble through their teeth, but the way their cheeks pull up with the corners of their mouth betrays the attempted affect of agitation.

"And I seem to recall her getting quite the scolding too," Twilight says, and they both laugh.

They lapse back into silent cooperation until Cheesecake speaks up again.

"You know," they speak slowly, haltingly, as if still weighing each word on their tongue before allowing it to fall past their lips, "It's weird... knowing for a certainty mom's gonna outlive me. Like, I know we've known for years about your shared immortality but I guess it never fully hit me while dad was still here. Easier to ignore, I guess."

Twilight makes a non-committal noise of acknowledgement.

"I mean, I guess that's not really something you have to think about, is it? At least not in that direction."

"Oh, I've thought about it quite a bit," she replies with a light and casual tone, then adds somewhat absentmindedly, "Especially where your parents are concerned."

Cheesecake's face screws up in confusion, "...Huh?"

Twilight continues to decorate, not immediately aware of the pause her remark has given.

"...Auntie Twilight? What's that supposed to mean?" Cheesecake presses.

"Hm? What's what supposed to mean?"

"You said you'd given a lot of thought to my mom and dad's... lifespans?"

"Did I?" The Princess asks. She makes a show of closing her eyes, bringing a hoof to her forehead in consternation, before her face falls into a familiar mask of calm neutrality, "I'm sorry, I must be more tired than I thought - things always get so busy up in the capital just before the holiday adjournment. I just meant - well, I'm still getting used to the immortality thing myself. When my own parents passed is about when it started to sink in for me too, and they were both over a decade ago. That's quite a bit of time to start looking at the other ponies in my life in a new light."

"Right... right, yeah, that makes sense," Cheesecake shakes their head as though clearing it, lets the matter drop - but as the two get back to work, they keep sneaking glances at their aunt's face, set into that impenetrably regal expression they've long since given up trying to decipher anything through.

A Season of Joy

As every year, the holiday party in Ponyville castle is split between the main and banquet halls. Detailed signage hangs at corners and intersections in a bid to keep unfamiliar guests - and, indeed, a fair few repeat visitors as well - from getting lost in the labyrinthine crystal hallways. The mistake the party's organizers made was that to avoid overshadowing the Hearth's Warming decorations about the place they designed them to match the theming, to blend in a little with the festive atmosphere; a task performed a little too well.

So, when Applejack finally finds her way back from a trip to the little filly's room, she grumbles a bit under her breath about how she never did much care for the stupid place and how it felt like the building personally had it out for her from day one.

"Applejaaaaack!" a chipper voice cries out as lilac wings enfold her. They smell strongly of bourbon, and their owner says in a mock-serious tone, "You're late."

"Hey Starlight," she reaches up blindly to give her a couple clumsy-yet-affectionate pats on the cheek, "You're drunk."

"I am not drunk!" Starlight Glimmer protests drunkenly, then repeats, "You're late."

"I ain't late, Starlight," Applejack ducks smoothly out of the embrace, brushing against some of the lower-down feathers, "I been in the main hall for most of the past hour and a half. Got a bit lost lookin' for the bathroom is all."

"Hehe, that still happens to you too, huh?" Starlight slurs, mirth amplified by tipsiness.

"Yeah, yeah, yuk it up," she rolls her eyes, grinning, then casts them out across the room, "You seen Pinkie or Cheesecake tonight? Been wantin' to check in on them."

"I think Cheesecake is downstairs. You mushta just missed them. But Pinkie, yeah, she's over there with Twilight," Starlight points with a wing, clumsily knocking Applejack's hat off her head, and sure enough there are two of Applejack's closest friends, barrels up against each other so close they may as well be glued together, "They've been together allllll night. Insheparable."

A warm smile slips onto Applejack's face at the sight. She and Rainbow made it a point to check in on Pinkie as frequently as possible since last June, but each time they'd been met with the same effusive, shining smile that had graced their lives for decades, hardly even touched by the sadness of those first days after Cheese's passing. She hadn't been fooled, of course, having lost too many ponies in her own life not to recognize the front, but nor had she pushed the matter; PInkie would take things in her own time.

She hadn't been surprised at all when she heard about the widow breaking down into tears while decorating Sugarcube Corner, an activity that had been shared between the Pie and Cake families as far back as anypony cared to remember. Applejack's first Hearth's Warming without her Granny had been much the same. She does regret, just a little, having been out of town at the time and thus unable to go to her comfort, but the years have tempered her compulsive need to shoulder her friends' burdens.

In the end, she's just thankful their other friends were there to pick Pinkie up after her fall.

"Ooh! Trixie, Trixie, come try this fruitcake!" Applejack only half hears Starlight calling out as they trot off in separate directions.

"Hey Twilight, Pinkie. Happy Hearth's Warming Eve," Applejack says.

"AJ!" between one moment and the next Pinkie Pie goes from Twilight's side to wrapped around Applejack in a clasically signature Pinkie-hug, voice as cheerful as she's ever heard, "Happy Hearth's Warming!"

"Happy Hearth's Warming, Applejack," says the Princess of Friendship, prompting a raised eyebrow and a thin-pressed smile.

"Twi, c'mon now. It's a holiday, don't gimme the royal treatment."

Twilight Sparkle chuckles apologetically, and it's only a little forced, "Sorry, AJ. I got away from Canterlot a week ago and I guess I'm still decompressing a bit from all the nobles squeezing a last-minute audience in before the recess. Happy Hearth's Warming," she says again, more but not entirely genuinely.

Eh, she'll take it.

"Is Dashie here yet?" Pinkie asks.

"Yeah, still downstairs, 'less she also went looking for the bathroom and got herself lost," Applejack answers with a wry little grin.

"Oh no - do you think we should put together a search party?" Twilight puts a gold-clad hoof to her chest in mock concern, "We can't have the Captain of the Wonderbolts lost and alone in these cold crystal halls, not even a roll of toilet paper to comfort her!"

Pinkie giggle-snorts, "Gasp! Can you imagine?! Why, she might even have to resort to crashing through a window, just like the old days!"

The three of them share in a round of belly laughs, even if Applejack does shoot a surreptitious glance around the room to make sure her wife isn't sneaking up with a bucket of ice cold something-or-other to get back at them for it.

"It's always good to see you girls," Applejack says warmly as their fit dies down.

"We see each other every moon," Twilight reminds her with a grin.

"Outside of the council meetings, ya smart-aleck," she smacks her playfully with the back of a hoof, "And I also just wanted to say... to apologize for not checkin' in on you sooner, Pinkie. After I heard about what happened at Sugarcube Corner, I mean."

"Applejack, I'm not sure now is the best time to-"

"No, it's fine, Twily," Pinkie says, finally un-sprawling herself from across Applejack's withers, then to both of them, "I'm doing a lot better- and I'm okay right now, really. And I totally get it, AJ - you're extra extra busy this time of year."

"That ain't no excuse-" Applejack starts to protest but stops herself before the others can interrupt, though it's a near thing going off the way they open their mouths and take sharp breaths in. Habits are hard to break, but she has been trying. Instead, she changes tack, holding up a hoof to silence the retorts, "Agh, I know, I know. Still, I do feel bad I wasn't able to make some time. Glad to hear you're doin' better, though - you sure look it."

"Mhm," Pinkie nods as she trots over to Twilight, giving her neck a little walk-by-nuzzle before she turns in place and is back where she was before, shoulder-to-shoulder, "Twily's been great while I've stayed with her - she's hardly left my side all week, waiting on me hoof-and-hoof."

Pinkie leans forward and, in a conspiratorial stage whisper that Twilight can hear too, says "It's actually a little overbearing, honestly, but I'm not gonna say no to a free vacation with a personal maid!"

Twilight rolls her eyes even as she drops a wing down and around Pinkie, pressing her a little closer against her side.

"I just want to make sure you're doing okay after losing Cheese. Grief can be a very powerful thing, and it's important to have people you can turn to through it," Twilight's voice is matter-of-fact as she says it, and yet - there's something a little too warm in the crinkle of her eyes, a little too calm in the curve of her smile. Applejack almost doesn't catch it, almost thinks nothing of the weird, niggling little feeling she gets when she looks at the blissful expression with which she regards Pinkie Pie.

But she's known her too long, and the mask still isn't quite perfect.

"Yeah," she agrees, "And don't go forgettin' you got all of us for that, okay sugarcube?" Applejack wishes she hadn't seen the way the muscles in Twilight's wing stiffened at that, or hopes she's imagining it, or that she could just write it off and enjoy the rest of her night.

"Awww, you guys..." Pinkie tears up a little, a sight entirely too common for these past months, and the next thing Applejack knows she's smooshed up in a group hug that smells like peppermint and raw magic, "I love you all so much."

"We know, Pinkie. We love you too," Applejack blinks a couple times to get the sting out of her eyes, chuckles a little to hide the little choke in her voice, "But hey, ain't this is a party? Not hardly the time for that kinda downer talk."

A theatrical gasp. "You're right, Jackie! Whaddaya say we go grab some nog and REALLY get this thang goin'?"

"Hah, naw, I think I saw Ocellus just now, might go say hey to her now I've checked in on you. You two go on ahead."

The two mares in Pinkie's wake share a knowing grin before Twilight follows her across the crowded room, albeit at a much calmer pace. Immortality or no, it's amazing how she can still bounce and jump around like that at their age, carrying on as if not a day had gone by since- well, since ever, really. With a shake of her head and a quiet laugh, Applejack turns to mingle.

But despite herself, she keeps glancing over to the two of them while she talks with other guests; when she does eventually make a visit to the refreshments; as she obliges some young, starstruck little thing from the school to a dance, because every time she does, there they are, tangled up in each other like a mare clinging to a life raft - and there she is, with the sinking feeling she can't tell which is which.

So when Spike eventually pokes his head through the doorway, calling for Twilight to come give him a hoof in the kitchen, and The Princess finally steps away from Pinkie Pie for longer than two seconds, Applejack follows.

A Time to be True

"Knock knock," she calls out in time with her knock-knock against the doorframe to the castle's kitchen, "What's cookin' in here?"

"Applejack!" Spike exclaims, and you'd think he hadn't seen her for years the way his face alights when he looks up from the bowl he's stirring. He drops the spoon, wipes his claws against his ugly-sweater apron - a gag gift from Shining Armor several Hearth's Warmings back that he's worn almost religiously every year since - and carefully picks his way through the kitchen to wrap her in a big ol' bear hug.

"Oof. Hey there, lil' fella," she says, returning the embrace to the dragon twice her size.

"You enjoying the party? Did you get a chance to try the spinach puffs?" Spike asks with just a hint of boyish excitement.

"Guessin' those were yours?"

He nods eagerly.

"Heh, nah, not yet. I'll be sure to taste 'em once I get back out there."

"What are you doing in the kitchen, anyway?"

"Well, when you went and poked your head into the party back there I thought you should get a chance to enjoy it yourself. Figured I could lend a hoof, fill in for a bit," it's not a lie, not really, and she's gotten so much better at half-truths over the years, "Plus I wanted to chat with Twilight some more."

Spike's cheeks color a bit. He rubs the back of his head sheepishly. "Ah, you don't have to do that AJ-"

"Yeah, I know, but I want to," she interrupts in a tone that brooks no argument, "Go on, git. Go enjoy yourself for a bit."

Spike glances, a little uncertainly, over to Twilight. When she smiles and nods her approval he beams, thanks Applejack, and scurries excitedly off to join the festivities. It's an odd sight for a creature his size, and the two old friends share a laugh about it.

"Even after all this time, I can still see so much of that little kid I watched grow up in him," Applejack says.

Twilight scoffs, "I wish I had that problem. I can't look at him and not see my baby brother all grown up."

"I know what you mean," her response is wistful, "'Bloom's gettin' up there. Ain't the same, I know, but... ah, y'know."

"Yeah."

She clears her throat. "So, uh, what can I do? Mix up some more nog, stir the pudding?"

"You could make the filling for the pecan tarts."

"You got it hoss."

So they work; Twilight calmly methodical, Applejack frequently glancing at the other pony in the room. She's not eager to broach the subject on her mind, and Twilight seems content to work in companionable silence, but at length the tension only she seems to feel becomes unbearable.

"So, uh," Applejack clears her throat, trying to sound casual, "Pinkie's really doin' better?"

"She certainly seems to be," comes the nonchalant response, "There've been ups and downs, of course, but nothing on the level of last week. I think she just needed to spend as much time around others as possible this holiday season."

"And you've been happy enough to oblige, seems like."

"I have," Twilight's eyes stay down as she continues to roll out pastry dough, but a tiny smile crosses her face, one distinct from both the placid expression The Princess of Friendship wears at all times or the goofy, dorky grins Applejack is more familiar with, and rarer than either, "I'd hate for her to be alone if there's anything I can do about it."

"Right," if Twilight notices her response is a little hollow, she doesn't show it.

"I mean, she's always been there for everyone else - always. She does so much to make sure nocreature ever feels alone or lost, and now with Cheese gone, I- she deserves the same. She deserves better than her grief."

And Applejack sighs, sets down the spoon she was stirring with, turns with a slow and heavy clip-clopping to face one of her oldest friends.

"Twi... what are you doing?"

"What do you mean, Applejack?" The Ruler of Equestria asks innocently.

"I mean this..." finding the right words is suddenly so very hard for her, harder even than usual, because as much as she hates to see Twilight like this it's still Twilight; still that caring little nerd that brought them all together, "This... runaround you're doin'. It ain't like you, you're- you're better than this."

Even Applejack has trouble telling the incredulous chuckle The Princess gives her is forced, "'Runaround'? What-"

"Look, sugarcube, I know it's been hard for you, believe me, I really do," she rubs at a temple with a hoof, closes her eyes. It's so hard for her to look at her right now. "And I can't even really blame you if... if some part of you is a little glad Cheese is gone. Can't say I'm thrilled at the prospect, but I get it, I just- this ain't the way to go about it, Twilight. It ain't how things are done."

"Ah," and despite the humor of her tone, The Princess' voice drops in temperature, and it's almost as if the air in the room drops with it, ignoring every degree put forth by the many ovens and stovetops, "So that's what you think this is about."

"Ain't no 'think' about it, I known you too long not to-"

"Not to what, Applejack? Not to suspect me of- of- of what, exactly? Manipulating one of my best friends while she's grieving for her husband? Just because I've been there for her, like friends are supposed to be?" The laugh The Princess barks out is humorless, accusatory, and just a little too shrill, like somepony flubbing a line they'd spent hours trying to get just right, "Where is this even coming from? Why the sudden suspicion? What makes you think I even think of Pinkie that way?"

"Twilight, c'mon now, it's insultin' to both of us for you to play that dumb. I ain't the only one who's picked up on your feelings. You're not that subtle."

Twilight Sparkle's face hardens, the indignant anger in her eyes chills into a still and quiet glare.

"Fine. You're right. But what's so wrong with that? After everything we've been through together- with everything we're sure to go through together, in the centuries to come?"

"Ain't nothin' wrong with it, Twilight, you know that ain't what I'm sayin-"

"Then what are you saying, Applejack? Please, enlighten me."

"You just..." she forces herself to look Twilight in the eyes, even though she hates what she sees there right now, "you can't take advantage of her like this, when she's so fragile. Even if you get what you think you want, and that is a mighty big if, it... it wouldn't give you the happiness you're hopin' for."

"I'm not taking advantage of her!" Twilight says, and Applejack thinks she hears a little waver in the indignation. She hopes she does. She hopes some part of Twilight doesn't believe what she's saying, "Like I said, I'm just trying to support her when she needs it."

"You're not listenin' to me," Applejack groans, frustration starting to tinge the concern she feels for both of her friends, "Of course I want you to be there for her, of course I know you want to support her, but you can't go cozyin' up with her the way you were at the party just now expecting her to fall into your hooves just as soon as-"

"I am listening to you! It's just that there's nothing more going on here! We've always been very physical with each other! We all have! Why should that stop just because-"

"You need to think about Pinkie's-"

"Of course I'm thinking about Pinkie!" Princess Twilight all but snarls, though her voice stays low enough not to be overheard by any casual passers-by in the hallway outside, never to be overheard, "I have always thought of Pinkie, every day for the past sixty-three years! The mare I love has consumed my thoughts for what amounts to a lifetime for most ponies, even as I had to watch her fritter away her time with that... that vapid, insipid, obnoxious little stallion! What, you think I don't know she's hurting? That's precisely why I need to be there for her! I have done nothing but think of Pinkie, of her feelings, her happiness, for so long! I have been patient without end. Don't we both deserve happiness, after all this time?"

Applejack doesn't flinch away at the outburst. She doesn't grit her teeth to match the sudden spike in Twilight's hostility, doesn't fold her ears back in fear, doesn't even set her mouth into a grim and judgemental line. Applejack hardly reacts at all, except to breathe in, slow, deep, and back out again.

With her next breath, she says, "Okay, Twilight. Alright. I ain't gonna keep tryin' to talk you out of this. Just... maybe give it just a bit more time, for both your sakes? That's all I'm gonna say. Take it or leave it."

But then she stops just before she crosses the doorway to join the rest of the party, and she says over her shoulder, "You know... it's a shame you never really got to know Cheese. I think you woulda seen why Pinkie and him got on so well, if you'd gave him half a chance."

She half expects Twilight to throw something after her, to hear a plate or a glass shatter against the wall beside her head, but she doesn't. She goes through the door and shuts it behind her, quiet as you please, not a glance spared for the no-doubt fuming mare in her wake. She turns to go back to the party, or maybe just to leave, depending on where her head's at by the time she gets back to the main hall, and finds Spike pressed up against the wall just to her side, eyes wide, claws over his mouth, looking for all the world as small as the day she met him.

"Sorry you had to hear all that, lil' fella," she says grimly as she walks off.

And a Time to be Kind

Pinkie Pie sits out on a balcony with her legs folded under herself, and she luxuriates in the cold. The sting and stab at her lungs with every breath of frigid December, that special, tingly sort of feeling that lingers even after you get back inside, makes every inhale feel a little rattly. Rarity always said she was strange for that, that it was a positively ghastly sensation, that it was the reason she never exercised outside during the winter and do you know how much harder that makes it to maintain one's figure, especially with all the holiday treats, sweet Celestia, and then she'd always give a silly little shudder and the two of them would giggle about it before one of them would get some hot cocoa going.

But even if Pinkie did mind, it would be worth it to get away from the party for just a few minutes.

She misses the days when she never needed to step away like this, give herself a break from the hubbub and the commotion, of course she does: and it's not that she gets tired, exactly - if anything her reserves of energy are more irrepressible than ever - more that she gets overwhelmed by the noise and the press of a crowd, the way Twilight or Marble always have. Not that she's quite at either of their levels - even with the strides her most princess-y friend has made in managing the stresses of social functions, she can still go way longer than her before she needs to tap out, at least under normal circumstances. She's just come to appreciate the value of quiet a bit more over the years, that's all.

She always feels a bit of pride when she thinks about Twilight's growth. It's a bit egotistical, maybe, to give herself just a teensy-tiny bit more credit than the rest of the gang in helping to bring her out of her shell, but... eh. It's not like she's saying it out loud, so who's it hurting, really?

And besides, their friendship has always been a bit more special to her than the others. Like, yes, obviously she loves all of the girls - she's Pinkie Pie, she loves everyone! - but Twilight and her seem to just get each other. Even, and maybe especially, when they don't understand each other.

The way she's looked after Pinkie this year is proof of that, no matter what weird little feelings she gets about it sometimes. Twilight Sparkle is her friend, her best friend, even, and it's perfectly normal for best friends to pick each other up with a devotion bordering on fervorous when things are tough, to protect each other, to not leave each other's side no matter what. Twilight Sparkle wasn't the type of pony to expect anything in return for her kindness. Twilight Sparkle might not be the same sometimes shy, occasionally priggish pony she'd met the day of that fateful solstice anymore, but she was still the mare who'd crossed the world with her again and again and again. She wouldn't...

She wouldn't.

"Mind if I join you, Pinkie?"

Well. Think of the alicorn, and she will appear.

"Of course I don't mind, silly," Pinkie Pie smiles and scooches over a bit, a completely meaningless gesture given how much space the balcony has on either side of her, "Why would I?"

"Don't you only step outside of a party like this when you want a breather from other creatures?" Twilight asks with a quirked eyebrow.

"Meh, it's different when it's you or the girls," she replies.

Twilight steps over to Pinkie's side and sits with a soft little grunt. Pinkie giggles.

"Age catching up to your joints a bit there, your highness?"

"Har har. You're not exactly a spring chicken yourself, Madame Pie," Twilight scowls and nudges Pinkie with her wing, then in a slightly alarming imitation of her: "Aww geeze, I just don't know why I can't drink like I used to! I never used to get hangovers! Hey Dashie, pass me some more fried eggs, wouldja?"

They grin widely at each other. A shudder runs through Pinkie, just once. Twilight lays the same wing she just nudged her with across her withers. It's warm and soft, just like always.

Pinkie Pie doesn't let her grin falter, not even the little bittiest-bit. She loves wing hugs from her friends, she really does, and she always has - this weird little curdly feeling in her stomach will pass. She's just a bit on edge from what she was just thinking about, that's all.

That's all.

But it's so hard to hide anything from each other anymore.

"Pinkie? Is something wrong?"

"I-" now Pinkie's grin fails, and her words along with it, "It's... I'm not really sure how to say it."

"You know I won't judge you if you mess up," Twilight murmurs, and it's amazing how she manages to say the most patronizing things without sounding patronizing sometimes, "you can always try again if you get it wrong."

"Right," Pinkie says, but she still considers her words for a long, careful moment.

She asks, "Twily... you know I'm really grateful to you, right? For... for everything, really, but I mean especially letting me stay here in the castle the past couple weeks, and for looking out for me, and just... all these months since Cheese..." she trails off.

Twilight smiles gently at her, "Of course, Pinkie. You mean the world to me - I will always be there for you. Through anything and everything."

"Right," she says, and she knows that it's true. Whatever else might happen, Twilight Sparkle will be there - just like her.

She asks, "You know you can come to me too, right? And the others. I know we've said it a bunch over the years but... I just want to make sure you haven't let yourself get too lost in your big important princess duties."

"Pinkie, I see you girls at least once a moon," she chuckles, "You've hardly let me forget! Where's this coming from?"

And then Pinkie Pie does something she's hardly ever done in her entire life: she loses her nerve. And so she smiles, because that's what she does, and she shakes her head, and she says, "Ah, it's nothing, I'm just being silly. How about we just sit and enjoy the night?"

Twilight nods, and for a moment she lets the silence sit between them, empty and heavy and warm all at once, despite everything.

But then she turns to her again.

"Pinkie... Pinkie, I-"

In Twilight's carefully chosen hesitation, Pinkie knows exactly what her closest friend in the whole world wants to say without her saying it. Really, she's known for a very long time - it's just that now, finally, she can't keep pretending otherwise. When Princess Twilight Sparkle looks at her, eyes tempered with just the right amount of vulnerability, when she starts to lean in towards her, at a perfectly calculated pace, and when she says after that immaculately crafted pause,

"I lo-"

"Twilight," Pinkie cuts her off with the sharpest tone she's ever spoken in. Twilight stops dead, blinking owlishly, that vulnerable expression gone just like that. Pinkie's heart drops like lead.

"Wh-what's wrong, Pinkie? What-" she asks as Pinkie shuffles out from under her wing, stands and steps a few paces backwards.

"Twilight, don't- I can't, alright? I just... can't. Not right now."

"Can't what? Pinkie, what are you-"

"It's too soon, Twilight. I can't even begin to think about that yet, Cheese was-" Pinkie swallows hard, her eyes feel so hot yet drier even than a moment ago, and isn't it funny how they do that, when the tears start coming? The way they get all gritty just like that, "A-and I don't-"

"Pinkie-"

"Stop, just stop!" she shouts, and her voice threatens to break completely. Somehow, she doesn't start sobbing, not just yet, "I'm not- I'm not blind, Twilight. This isn't- you're-"

"Pinkie, I- I just-"

"I know, Twilight. I know," Pinkie chokes up a smile without even meaning to while a sob wracks her body, all the way through. She's only vaguely aware of stepping backwards, towards the balcony door, towards the party, "And I'm sorry. I'm sorry. But I can't-"

"Wait, no, Pinkie don't- let's talk about this, please-" is that desperation in her voice real? Pinkie can't trust herself to tell right now. She's a little glad for that - she doesn't know which answer would be worse.

"I need some time, Twilight. And I need it alone."

The Princess of Friendship's face falls into impassivity. She stands a little taller, goes rigid, regal. Pinkie Pie turns and gallops through Hearth's Warming. The Princess doesn't follow.

So Turn Not From Your Loved Ones

The Princess of Friendship does not break down sobbing outside her annual Hearth's Warming party. Her legs do not give out under her on a balcony of Ponyville castle as the first of many long-held tears start to run trails of quickly-lost heat through her coat. She does not bury her face in her hooves and tremble or shiver or wail, does not cry out ragged lamentations to Luna's moon - Her moon - hanging cold and uncaring in the sky.

She doesn't. Instead, she turns and crosses to the glittering balcony railing with a few long, plodding steps, and gazes from afar upon the warm lights of her old home.

Pinkie Pie just needs some time to calm down. She'll feel better in the morning, or even later tonight, and then Twilight can go to her and wrap her in a hug and give her a shoulder to cry on. It's what she's done every day for the past week - what she's done for the past six months with a bit less frequency. That's what friends are for, after all.

"What did you do, Twilight?" demands a raspy voice by the balcony door. Without turning, Twilight smiles fondly and rolls her eyes. Leave it to Rainbow Dash to jump to conclusions, flying off into confrontation without the first inkling of understanding for a situation, especially when she's drunk. Sure, she might not be slurring as much as Twilight would expect by this time of night, but she can hear she's not sober.

She doesn't answer. Let Rainbow calm down first, ask again with less of that reactionary aggression in her tone.

"Twilight? Pinkie Pie just tore through the party in an absolute state, what happened?" Rarity's voice has a certain hardness to it she doesn't care for, clearly laden with some preconception even as she asks with a bit of hesitation, "...Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," The Princess tells her friends, still gazing at the snow-capped rooftops. Her eyes find Sugarcube Corner, settle on the dark shape so familiar to her as to be utterly unmistakable, jutting out taller than the homes and other shops around it. The light streaming out of windows, off the fairy-strings on awnings and around chimneys, is just enough to vaguely make out a few of the old bakery's details - the segments of its roof, the looping and undulation of the faux-frosting around the edges - though she could trace them perfectly from memory alone.

"Nothing happened. Pinkie wanted a moment to herself, that's all. Don't worry, I'll check in on her again shortly, you girls go on and keep enjoying the party."

"Are you quite certain that's wise?" Rarity asks. It's amazing how that mare can find a way to sound so judgemental even through the concern weighing down her voice.

"Why wouldn't it be?" comes the mild reply, "She needs stability right now, needs to know she's not alone. She needs me."

"I think what she needs is someone who isn't trying to take Cheese's place."

"Rainbow!" Rarity hisses, followed by the sound of a hoof smacking softly against somepony's side.

"What? I'm not-"

"And what's so wrong with that?" The Princess cuts off their argument before it can really get going, because Hearth's Warming Eve just isn't the time for that sort of thing, "She deserves some way to fill the hole he left behind in her heart. Why shouldn't it be one of her oldest and closest friends?"

"Oh, that is such a total load and you know it, Twi!"

A distant chorus of voices carries over the rooftops from somewhere in town proper. Twilight closes her eyes, allows the pleasant tune and indistinct words to roll over her like the warmth of a fire. She can almost imagine it's coming from the square by the bakery.

"Alright, we got Pinkie calmed down some, Cheesecake an' 'Shy're lookin' after her now," Applejack's voice accompanies the sound of her hoofsteps out onto the balcony, "How's things goin' out here?"

"Take a look," Rainbow Dash scoffs, "she's ignoring us as much as she's talking to us. Won't even turn around."

Applejack sighs heavily, murmurs something Twilight can't quite make out, clip-clops her way a little closer. She must be... about halfway between her and the door.

"I'm sorry, Twi. I did try to warn you."

She had, hadn't she? And Twilight had been determined to prove her wrong. If she hadn't been so stubborn, so impatient, then...

Dash's voice snaps her away from the thought, and the wall goes back up. "What are you apologizing to her for? She's not the one who ran off in tears!"

"Rainbow, Twilight is still our friend," Rarity chides, "this isn't-"

"I haven't done anything wrong," Twilight asserts with perfect calm. Honestly, this whole argument is ridiculous. Dash really should know better.

"Is that why you can't even look at us?"

Twilight rolls her eyes and turns, at last, to face the others. As expected, Rainbow is hovering by the door, front slightly darkened because of the warm light against her back, her glare dripping with bitter accusation. Rarity holds a hoof up against her side, as if she could hold her back with that simple point of contact, eyes glancing between both of them above a disapproving frown. Applejack's expression is the worst of them, though.

Applejack just looks sad.

That's what does it. The mournful look in her eyes, more than Dash's glare ever could, takes a battering ram to Twilight's already weakened denial. Suddenly it's all The Princess can do to fight down the sting at the back of her eyes, as though the sharp slivers of her shattered denial were stabbing into them, ushered forward by a swift and relentless tide of guilt - of regret.

She screws her eyes shut before the tears can start falling.

Then she spreads her wings and takes off, to make the long and lonesome flight to Canterlot through the dark and cold.

And Forgive Them Their Crimes

The next moon, the Council of Friendship does not convene.

The moon after that, Pinkie and Rainbow are both absent. In all honesty, Twilight prefers that to having to face her other friends, at least in those rare moments she can actually look them in the eye. Rarity and Applejack try not to show their discomfort, but every so often the smallest bit of judgy disapproval, or disappointment, or outright pity will slip out, and each time any warmth which might have been rekindled between them is snuffed just like that. Even Fluttershy gives her the cold shoulder.

The Council adjourns early. Twilight wishes Spike would at least try to hide his relief as he makes his escape.

The moon after that, Applejack drags Rainbow Dash to the meeting with her. At her wife's very firm insistence she grumbles out... something to Twilight; might have been a greeting, could have been a chain of very foul language, maybe even an apology, much as she doubts that to be the case.

The Princess smiles graciously, and says, "It's good to see you again, Rainbow."

The metaphorical stormcloud across her brow abates as the meeting goes by, and at the end she's almost down to only her usual levels of impatience and restless irritability. When the group says their goodbyes and heads off back to their own lives, Rainbow doubles back, leaving Applejack just outside the room to get up in Twilight's face.

"I'm still peeved at you," she tells her, as though the renewed scowl were not telling enough, "But I kinda maybe missed you too, so... hurry up and get it together, alright? I don't like being mad at my friends."

She rushes off before Twilight can respond. The Princess smiles after her.

The moon after that, Rainbow Dash cracks some stupid joke during the meeting, a raunchy thing she heard from a yak dignitary at her last show about size differences that makes Rarity sputter and scold. As the others laugh at her largely performative outrage - they can all see that little grin she's hiding under her hoof, on pretense of covering the admittedly very real blush gracing her cheeks - Dash meets The Princess' eyes across the table. Her charmingly obnoxious grin falters ever-so-subtly at the eye contact and she looks away quickly.

She doesn't say much for the rest of the meeting and leaves so quickly she's almost out the door before The Princess officially closes it out.

A small part of her debates chasing after her. The decision is made for her when Rarity and Fluttershy pull her into a group hug, reminding her in slightly pleading tones not to be such a stranger, that their doors are always open if she needs it, even when things are a bit rocky between them. The Princess smiles and nods along with all of it, watching over their shoulders while Applejack hesitates before leaving, turns and looks to them. Whatever she wanted to say, she decides instead to leave her to her moment with the others.

The moon after that, The Princess asks Rainbow Dash to arrive for the meeting a little earlier than usual.

"You're lucky the 'bolts were in Canterlot anyway," Dash huffs as she flaps lazily around the room, "Wouldn't'a come by if it weren't so convenient."

"Well, thank you regardless, Rainbow," The Princess says through a beatific smile, "I know you're not who I need to apologize to, but... I wanted to tell you I'm sorry anyway."

The pegasus stops her lap around the walls, instead merely hovering in place. She turns over, alights upon the low table in the center of the room so she can stare seriously into the other pony in the room's eyes for a long, tense moment.

Then she breaks out into a grin and, still standing on the table, pulls her into a hug. "It's good to have you back, Sparkles," she says.

"It's good to be back," lies The Princess as she returns the embrace.

The moon after that, Applejack does hang back.

"You're gonna have to talk to her eventually," Applejack tells her.

Like she doesn't already know.

"Eventually," The Princess agrees.

Applejack gives her a rough little sigh. "Twilight... I'm not sayin' you can't feel bad about this whole situation, or that you shouldn't, but this whole... self-flagellation routine... it's gettin' a mite old."

"I'm not punishing myself," lies The Princess, "I'm just doing what I should have from the start - giving her space."

"Sure," Applejack says doubtfully. With slow, heavy motions she sets her hat down on the table, goes over and butts her head up against the taller pony's neck, throwing her arms around her unresponsive shoulders, "It's gonna be okay, Twi. Sooner or later you two are gonna have to sort this out, and you'll be okay."

"Mmh," is all she says.

So Applejack leaves her alone with her mask.

Before the moon after that is through, The Princess receives a knock on the door to her study.

"Enter," she calls out, not bothering to turn from her desk as the door opens and somepony walks in. For a long moment the only sound in the room is the continuing scratch of quill against paper, and The Princess almost forgets about her visitor as the near-silence stretches on. Only once she finishes drafting her response to Mayor Tiara's request for additional rain funding and sets it on the pile of papers to her right does it strike her as odd for someone to seek audience with her and say nothing.

"Ah, apologies, it was rude of me to neglect you like-" The Princess faces her visitor, and her voice fails as her heart lodges itself in her throat.

"Hey, Twily," Pinkie Pie says.

After several seconds of floundering, she manages to get out, "Pinkie, I... I wasn't expecting you."

"I know. I was a little afraid you wouldn't want to see me if you did."

"I-" even though she's been thinking about this non-stop for months, she can't think of a thing to say.

"Applejack told me you've been kinda distant since the party," Pinkie says casually, far too casually, like she were discussing the weather schedule for tomorrow, "And I guess I kinda got tired of putting this off.

"You know me - always so impatient," she finishes with a forced chuckle.

"I see," comes The Princess' carefully neutral response.

Pinkie sighs, "I'm not gonna pretend like I'm not still upset with you, Twilight. What you did really hurt me... but I guess it's sorta my fault too."

"What? Pinkie, no, that's not-"

"No, let me say this Twilight," Pinkie holds up a hoof, and when the other mare goes to say something else she's quick to cut her off with, "Please."

"I loved Cheese. He made me so, so happy, and he was special to me in a way nopony else ever has been. I wanted to make the most of every moment we had together, because I knew it would only last so long, but... I shouldn't have used that as an excuse to ignore the way you looked at us. I guess I just thought... you know, one day you'd get over me. Move on, find somepony of your own, and that if I just pretended like there wasn't a problem until then...

"But if these past moons have taught me anything, it's that that doesn't really work for creatures like us. Our problems are here to stay for as long as we are, and that's a reaaaally long time. So, here I am."

"...I never wanted to hurt you, Pinkie."

"I know you didn't. And even though I wouldn't do anything differently, I'm sorry you've been hurting."

"It wasn't your fault," she says, voice numb, flat, "I... I knew better. I shouldn't have... you deserve better than somepony who's always going to hope you'll love her back."

"I do love you, ya know. So, so much," Pinkie takes a step toward her as she speaks. Then another, and another, until she can pull Twilight Sparkle into a hug, nuzzling into her coat just above her peytral, "Maybe someday I'll love you the way you want - or maybe I won't."

The Princess of Friendship sits down, hard, hindquarters giving out beneath her as her breath quickens.

"I don't know what things are gonna look like between us in the future, Twilight," Pinkie sniffles, voice heavy, "All I do know is that eternity is way too long to spend without my best friend."

"I'm-" The Princess' voice cracks, "I'm sorry, Pinkie Pie."

"I'm sorry," Twilight sobs, burying her face into the poofy pink mane and clinging desperately to the other mare, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she repeats, and she hopes Pinkie knows each apology is for a different wound, a hundred little needle-point hurts to both their hearts enacted through the painful haze of envy.

And she does. And she knows that Twilight means each and every one from the bottom of her heart.

Author's Note

This story was beta-read by my very good friend and comrade in pony insanity, codename Flutterlover, for which I am very grateful. Thanks, friend!

Also don't worry about the deleted comment from me I misclicked while trying to edit from my phone at work. Bad experience, don't recommend it.