Chapters Sweetie Belle’s hoofsteps echoed through the house. She’d never truly realized how big the dwelling was, as if she’d woken up one morning and found herself as small as the day she first met Apple Bloom and Scootaloo.
Then again, she’d never had the house to herself for more than a few hours until recent months. Now…now it seemed that she would have it that way forever, with only memories to fill the emptiness. Outside, everypony was getting ready for Hearth’s Warming; in Sweetie Belle’s heart, she wondered if she would ever have cause for celebration again. With the School of Friendship on winter break for the holiday, she now had nothing to distract her from her own lonely thoughts.
Pearlescent, Sweetie Belle’s gray long-haired cat, gave a soft meow as she threaded her way through the young mare’s front legs, looking up at her mistress with big blue eyes. “Hey, Pearl,” Sweetie Belle said, giving her pet a few gentle strokes between the ears and trying to force a smile, even though the corners of her mouth felt as though they had thousand-pound weights attached. “I know…I miss Winny and Rainboom, too.” Moisture welled in Sweetie Belle’s eyes, her chest and throat constricting painfully at the mention of Apple Bloom’s dog and Scootaloo’s tortoise, the pets they had taken with them when they left. “I…I miss them all so much…” she whispered, her legs trembling.
With a sob that tore through her like broken glass, the pink-and-lavender-maned mare sank weakly to the floor, gathering her pet into a hug and burying her face in the long, silky fur. Pearlescent purred quietly and rubbed her head against Sweetie Belle’s cheek as her mistress wept, her rough little tongue flickering out a few times to lick up the salty tears. Sweetie Belle flinched back slightly from the ticklish sensation, the smallest of laughs escaping in a way that made her heart ache even more. “At least you still love me, girl,” she whispered in a quavering voice. “I love you, too.”
Pearlescent gave Sweetie Belle one last affectionate headbump against her chin, then wriggled out of her forelegs; like her grandmother Opalescence, she disliked being held too closely for more than a few moments. Sweetie Belle let the cat go, watching as she padded away into the parlor and hopped up on the bench of the baby grand piano. Sweetie Belle remembered when she received that piano…a Hearth’s Warming gift from the two great loves of her life three years previously. At the time, it was a beautiful, thoughtful gesture, a recognition of her musical talent and the years she had put into practice since she began learning the piano at age twelve. A source of joy, a perfect symbol of the life they were building together.
Now…now just looking at the instrument felt like a timberwolf’s jaws clamping around her heart, leaving her breathless and raw.
Sweetie Belle wanted to believe they had simply grown apart, that it wasn’t any one pony’s fault. But some days, it was hard not to think of Apple Bloom’s wish for a foal with a father in their life, or Scootaloo’s growing frustration with their inability to find common ground, and wonder…had it always been doomed to end this way? Had she missed the warning signs? Or was what they had simply not…enough?
In the parlor, Pearlescent hopped up from the piano’s bench onto the keyboard, broken chords ringing through the air. She always enjoyed walking over the keys, the discordant notes ringing out at all hours of the day and night. Sweetie Belle and her wives had quickly learned to keep the fallboard closed, particularly when Winny and Pearlescent were in a playful mood, chasing each other through the house. Now, it didn’t seem to matter. If anything, the chaotic noise helped remind Sweetie Belle that despite how she felt, she wasn’t completely alone in the house.
Wiping her eyes with a forehoof, Sweetie Belle slowly pushed herself back upright, following her cat into the parlor. Pearl looked up, tensing slightly; she had been shooed off the piano enough times in the past. “It’s okay, girl,” Sweetie Belle murmured, reaching out to run her hoof gently over the feline’s back, giving her pet’s tail the little flick at the end she always liked. “Scootaloo was the one who really got upset about the noise.” Her eyes flicked down to the black-and-white keys. “Still…”
Taking a deep breath, Sweetie Belle sat carefully on the bench, gently picking her cat up and setting her down on the bench next to her. Music had always been one of her main hobbies. Since her mid-teens, she sometimes made extra money playing or singing at weddings and festivals, and she now incorporated it into many of her lessons at the School of Friendship. In Sweetie Belle’s opinion, few things brought different creatures together faster than a sing-along.
Many times over the years, friends and acquaintances had said she could be a professional musician, but Sweetie Belle had seen from Rarity’s work with Sapphire Shores and other celebrities how lonely that life could be. Even with as desolate as she felt now, she couldn’t imagine embracing that feeling as a lifestyle.
Sweetie Belle swallowed hard, her eyes prickling again, and she fought down the painful lump in her throat. Many of her best times with Apple Bloom and Scootaloo had involved singing together, particularly when they were foals working on a project to find their cutie marks. Squeezing her eyes shut, she shook her head. No…she wouldn’t let the end of her marriage destroy her love of music.
Taking a deep breath, Sweetie Belle reached for the keys. Her hooves hovered for a few moments, as if the weight of her memories might shatter her resolve. Finally, she pressed down, the first note ringing out - a delicate, tremulous sound that seemed to echo her own fragile state. The next few notes were hesitant, off-key, but soon she found herself falling into a familiar melody. The song was one that had been requested many times since Twilight Sparkle (not yet a princess) first sang it at Shining Armor’s wedding to Princess Cadance. Twilight had even sung a slightly rewritten version when she officiated over Sweetie Belle’s marriage to Apple Bloom and Scootaloo, commemorating Equestria’s first officially-recognized throuple relationship.
As Sweetie Belle played, an inner dam seemed to break and memories flooded through her mind. Hiding under a table with Scootaloo and Apple Bloom when Nightmare Moon returned, not yet aware of what they would all come to mean to each other. Falling into conversation with Scootaloo at Diamond Tiara’s cute-cenera and stepping up to defend Apple Bloom when they saw Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon picking on her. Sitting down with them afterward to form the Cutie Mark Crusaders, toasting the formation of their personal club with party punch.
The words that slipped out of Sweetie Belle’s lips weren’t the ones she had serenaded so many happy couples with, but once she began singing, she found she couldn’t stop, keeping the melody to the slower pace normally reserved for the beginning and end.
“Love ends in tears. We thought it would last a million years. Three hearts, beating as one, Until everything just came undone…”
The lyrics seemed to pour out of Sweetie Belle in a flood of raw pain, but despite the tears that began to leak from her swollen eyes again, her voice remained steady. She had her share of ups and downs with Apple Bloom and Scootaloo, as all friends did, but Sweetie Belle had thought they would always be able to pull through. Even when she and Scootaloo had fought over whether Harmonizing Heights or Seaquestria were better for the young hippogriff Terramar to live in and sworn never to speak again, Sweetie Belle had known in her heart that they would find a way. They had always found a way.
“Our love ends in tears. We thought it would last a million years. Love’s in tears. Losing the ones that I hold most dear…”
It had been Scootaloo who started taking things beyond friendship when they were all sixteen. Sweetie Belle still remembered how it had felt…how Scootaloo had called a meeting at their old clubhouse. “I have something to tell you guys,” the brash, tomcoltish pegasus had said, seeming uncharacteristically shy and blushy as she refused to meet either Sweetie Belle’s or Scootaloo’s eyes. “I like you…more than as friends. Both of you.” She had taken a deep breath, finally raising her eyes to gaze into Sweetie Belle’s and Apple Bloom’s. “At first, I thought it was like sisters, but…it’s not. It’s something more. Deeper.”
Sweetie Belle could almost feel the summer sun streaming through the old clubhouse’s windows as she remembered how Scootaloo’s hooves had shuffled on the wooden floor, her voice cracking as she confessed her feelings. She remembered how her heart had leapt in her chest…she had been harboring similar feelings, but hadn’t found the courage to express them until Scootaloo stepped forward. Apple Bloom had been shocked at first, unsure how to respond; the Apple family was generally more conservative, and it had surprised them all when Applejack started dating Rainbow Dash. After a few days to think, though, she had tentatively agreed to give this new level to their relationship a try, and none of them had regretted it….at least, Sweetie Belle thought they hadn’t.
“The best of friends, A bond we thought could never end. Who knew how wrong we’d be? Where once there was ‘us’, now there’s only ‘me’...”
When they grew old enough and were hired to teach at the School of Friendship full-time, they had all been thrilled. Teaching the array of creatures who attended the school had just seemed like a natural extension of what they did with their Cutie Mark Day Camp and consultations with parents and foals confused about a new cutie mark’s meaning. Their lessons had to be adjusted somewhat…by the time they were hired, ponies only slightly outnumbered other species in the student body, so they had to focus less on the mechanics of cutie marks and more on helping students find what gave them the greatest personal satisfaction and sense of self-worth…but it had been a fun challenge, particularly on days that Gabby Griffon was able to visit and share her own experience trying to become the first griffon with a cutie mark.
Just as when they were foals pursuing their own cutie marks, Scootaloo’s lessons tended to focus on the athletic and adventurous, while Apple Bloom followed in her sister’s hoofsteps to teach about practical endeavors and hard work, and Sweetie Belle preferred to lead her students in more artistic endeavors. Working together to combine their approaches, blending adventure with creativity and grounded wisdom…that had been one of the most rewarding parts of the job. Building their lessons, laughing at old memories and inside jokes, and most of all, watching their students thrive.
Now, those memories felt heavy as mountains, their joy turned bittersweet with loneliness and sorrow. In some ways, the fact that they all still worked at the school made their breakup worse. It wasn’t that Sweetie Belle wished Apple Bloom and Scootaloo unhappiness…even at her most hurt, she would never want them to have anything but joy in their lives. But seeing them at work every day, even from a distance as Scootaloo shifted her focus almost exclusively to the sporting field, Apple Bloom to the school’s workshop and Sweetie Belle to the music room, felt like her heart was being ripped out again and again. Rather than use the faculty lounge, Sweetie Belle now often ate her lunches in the music room, using eyedrops and careful makeup to hide how she wept through each lonely meal. Invitations from other staff to join them were politely rebuffed, their conversation and advice sounding like nothing but empty, well-meaning platitudes.
And yet, Sweetie Belle couldn’t imagine leaving the school. It was where her work felt most meaningful, where the bonds between herself, Scootaloo and Apple Bloom had once felt most unshakeable. The halls that once felt alive with possibility now felt cold and empty even when Sweetie Belle was surrounded by students who loved her, but if she left, it would feel like a final surrender, a close cousin to suicide.
“Our love ends in tears, We thought it would last a million years. Love’s in tears, And now I’m left alone, my path so unclear…”
As the last note faded, Sweetie Belle’s voice trailed off in another wrenching sob, laying her head on the piano keys and squeezing her eyes shut once more. If no more tears flowed, it was likely because she felt as if every bit of moisture in her body had already been lost through her eyes. Pearlescent rubbed against her mistress’ side, her rumbling purr vibrating through the contact.
Chapter 2: A Present Chill
Outside, Sweetie Belle heard a group of Hearth’s Warming carolers start up one of the classics and slowly raised her head, blinking at the late-afternoon sun slanting through the window. Her neck had a crick, her eyes felt heavy and gummy, and she could feel where the piano’s keys had left indentations in her cheek. She hadn’t even realized she was falling asleep.
Another merry verse rose from outside and Sweetie Belle groaned, rubbing her eyes. “Go away!” she half-screamed, half-sobbed, though she knew it was unlikely the carolers were performing for her specifically, or that they would hear her over their own singing through the house’s sturdy walls and closed windows. “Just go away and leave me alone…”
Before, she would have been right out there with such a group. This year, though, she felt like Snowfall Frost from the old novel A Hearth’s Warming Tail, wanting nothing more than for the holiday to vanish and take with it all its reminders of the warmth and closeness she had lost.
Pearlescent meowed from the kitchen and Sweetie Belle let out a soft groan, pushing herself up from the piano’s bench and shaking her muzzy head. “Okay, girl, I’ve got you,” she called, walking slowly from the parlor. Lost in her swirling emotions, she barely noticed a soft, flashing light on the end table in the hallway. The “call crystal”, a three-inch crystal ball, was the latest thing in communication magic, only standardized enough in the last few years to be affordable for every household to have one.
The call crystal’s soft, pulsing white light meant someone had left a message for her. I must have been sleeping so hard I didn’t hear it ring , Sweetie Belle realized, feeling her breath catch in her throat again as she remembered how excited she, Scootaloo and Apple Bloom had been to buy the magical device. At the time, it had felt like a big step together, another sign of the life they were building; now, with the weight of her recently-dissolved marriage, it just looked like…like a thing , with no value or meaning of its own. With a sigh, she gave it a tap in passing to play back the message.
Her older sister, Rarity, appeared in the crystal, her expression carefully composed, though Sweetie Belle noticed a flicker of hesitation in her eyes. The glasses adorning her face and the gray streak in her mane added maturity to her elegant beauty, but for once, even Rarity seemed uncertain. Her expression was soft with worry as she began to speak. “Sweetie Belle?” she said, her voice following the young mare as she continued toward the kitchen to assuage her hungry pet, taking a can of minced fish from the refrigerator and preparing its contents on a plate as the message played. “Darling, if you’re there, please answer me.”
A short pause, then Sweetie Belle heard her sister sigh as she set down the plate of cat food for Pearlescent. “Sweetie Belle, I…I want to say I know how you feel, but the truth is, I don’t,” Rarity said in the message, her soft tone laced with love and sympathy. “My first love has always been my work, as you know. Despite some of my own youthful dreams of romance, it seems the stars never aligned.”
After another brief hesitation, Rarity continued, her tone slightly quieter and more rueful. “I seem to be a better partner to my sewing machine than anypony else. I still hold out hope of finding somepony to spend my life with, but…well, you can imagine how difficult it can be to meet an eligible pony in Yakyakistan, particularly at my age and with my work schedule.”
Sweetie Belle sat down at her kitchen table, staring at a small, rectangular envelope. The postmark was stylized as a sprig of holly for the Hearth’s Warming season, and the blocky, utilitarian mouthwriting was so classically Apple Bloom that it was almost like hearing her voice–steady, grounded, practical. Though she had received the envelope three days before, Sweetie Belle hadn’t found the courage to open it, particularly since the unusual thickness indicated it carried more than just a normal holiday card.
“I just want to say, Sweetie Belle…if you need me, you need only call,” Rarity’s message continued. “I’m currently planning to spend Hearth’s Warming in Canterlot with the others, and you’re more than welcome to join us. Or, if you want me to come to you, I know they’ll understand why I can’t be there.”
A short pause, and then Rarity said in a softer, quieter tone, “I love you, little sister. I can’t imagine the pain you’re going through, but I hope you know that if you need anything, you need only ask.”
A soft chime sounded to indicate the end of the message and Sweetie Belle swallowed the lump in her throat with difficulty, rubbing her eyes. “If I need anything…” she muttered to herself, shaking her head. “What I need is my wives back…my life back…” A soft, dry sob punctuated her murmured thought.
Of course, that was the problem. Rarity couldn’t give her those things, and Sweetie Belle hadn’t spoken to the two mares who could in months…might never speak to them again, for all she knew. Even if she wanted to, the thought was just too painful, much less carrying it out.
Rarity’s offer seemed to hang in the air, warm, sincere and well-meaning, but her words felt distant, like winter sunlight struggling to break through heavy clouds. Sweetie Belle loved her sister, she truly did, but the thought of joining Princess Twilight and the Council of Friendship in Canterlot only filled her with dread. Hearth’s Warming was supposed to be about friendship and family, togetherness and joy. How could she celebrate when everything only seemed to remind her of the family she had lost?
Sweetie Belle’s gaze drifted back to the envelope, her mind involuntarily sifting through the possibilities for what its message might contain. What could Apple Bloom possibly say that Sweetie Belle hadn’t already heard? That she was sorry? That she wished her well? That she hoped they could still be friends? That thought brought a sad, bitter laugh to Sweetie Belle’s lips; right now, the very concept of friendship seemed a mockery of everything they had once shared.
Pearlescent jumped up on the table and gave the envelope a sniff, nudging it with her paw. “Curious, huh?” Sweetie Belle murmured, reaching out to stroke her cat absently. “You probably think I should just open it and get it over with. Rip off the band-aid.” Pearlescent purred softly and leaned her head into Sweetie Belle’s hoof.
Sweetie Belle picked the envelope up in her telekinesis, reading the addresses on it for what felt like the thousandth time, her magical “touch” exploring the texture of the paper, the slight indentations left by Apple Bloom’s pen. Apple Bloom had always favored plain, neat mouthwriting over the elaborate cursive and calligraphic hornwriting that Sweetie Belle had learned from Rarity. Of course, while Scootaloo was a decent artist, her own mouthwriting had always been frenetic, almost illegible, reflecting her energetic personality.
Sweetie Belle had considered returning the envelope unopened, letting Apple Bloom wonder if she had even seen it…or even sending it back with a note telling her not to write anymore. She had even thought of burning it, letting the flames and smoke consume the unwelcome reminder of her shattered heart. Any of those ideas had felt satisfying when she first considered them…final, even freeing. But wasn’t that the problem? Finality meant there was no going back, no chance to see what Apple Bloom had to say, no hope for answers…maybe no hope for reconciliation.
Taking a deep breath to brace herself, Sweetie Belle started to open the envelope…but before she had torn the top seam more than half an inch, the doorbell rang, catching her off-guard and yanking her from her swirling thoughts. Sweetie Belle quickly grabbed a tissue in her telekinesis to blow her nose, glancing toward the front door. “Who in the world could that be?” she muttered to herself, irritation and curiosity warring for control of her mood.
Pinkie Pie and her family had dropped off a plate of Hearth’s Warming/sympathy fudge the day before, but Sweetie Belle wasn’t expecting any other company. Of course, it would be just like Rarity to cancel her Canterlot plans on a whim to check on Sweetie Belle, but even for her, less than an afternoon between extending an invitation and dropping in on the one she invited was fast, especially with the expense of portal spells.
For a few moments, Sweetie Belle considered ignoring the doorbell in the hope that whoever it was would leave. A second ring made her annoyance spike, and she pushed herself up from the table with a low growl. “Right,” she said to Pearlescent as she started toward the door. “Let’s get rid of whoever this is, then see what Apple Bloom’s card says.”
The doorbell rang again as Sweetie Belle stalked down the hall, her hooves landing with unusual force and making her steps echo through the entryway. Her horn glowed as she reached the door, swinging it open with a flick of her telekinetic magic and sending Pearlescent scampering away from the sudden rush of winter cold. “All right, what do you wa…?” Her demand died in her throat, her eyes widening in disbelief. Her breath felt caught in her chest as if the wind had struck her with a block of ice, leaving her frozen in place.
“Hey, Sweetie Belle,” murmured the athletic, orange-coated pegasus mare standing on the porch. Her voice was quiet, almost tentative, as she shifted her weight from hoof to hoof, and a winter breeze ruffled her short, tomcoltish purple mane. Her amethyst eyes carried a strange mix of sad wariness and hope, and her stunted, undersized wings twitched nervously where she kept them folded against her sides. She still wore the black jacket Apple Bloom had given her for her birthday a few years before everything fell apart, the soft apple leather scuffed at the elbows and creased at the joints from constant wear, and her ears were pinned back in nervousness. “I…” Her voice wavered and she glanced down at her hooves, as if searching for the right words to be written there. “I…Can I come in?”
Sweetie Belle’s lips parted, words caught in her throat. She wanted to slam the door, to turn away, to shield herself from whatever her second great love had come to say—but her hooves wouldn’t move, and the name hung on the edge of her trembling breath. "Scootaloo…"
Chapter 3: Conversation Over Cocoa
A few minutes later, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo sat across from each other at the kitchen table, nursing cups of hot cocoa. The unopened envelope sat on the table between them like a crouching gargoyle, its presence impossible to ignore. The ticking of the wall clock seemed only to add weight to the heavy silence rather than break it as the two mares sipped their drinks, unable to meet each other’s eyes. The faint scent of chocolate and marshmallows lingered in the air, mixing with the sharp winter chill that still clung to Scootaloo's jacket. Pearlescent rubbed against Scootaloo’s leg, then hopped up in her lap, drawing an involuntary smile from both mares. “Hey, Pearl,” Scootaloo murmured as she rubbed the cat between the ears with a forehoof. “I’ve missed you, too.”
“So…” Sweetie Belle hesitated, turning her cocoa cup around and around between her hooves. “How’s Rainboom?”
Scootaloo glanced up from Pearlescent, her smile taking on a tentative cast. “He’s good,” she replied. “He’s hibernating right now, burrowed in right next to Tank.” She paused, licking her lips as though her next words were stuck there. “Um…I’ve seen you…at work, I mean,” she finally ventured. “You seem…together.” Immediately, she winced. “Sorry…poor choice of words.”
Sweetie Belle shook her head with a tired, reluctant chuckle. “It’s okay,” she murmured, focusing on looking at Pearlescent to avoid Scootaloo’s eyes. “I’m…” She felt her throat tighten up again and she swallowed painfully. “I want to say I’m alright, but…I’m not.” She shook her head and took another sip of her cocoa. Finally, she raised her eyes, though she found herself focusing on her ex-wife’s muzzle instead of looking her in the eye. “I miss you, Scootaloo…I miss both of you. Apple Bloom went back to the farm, Rainbow Dash let you come stay in her cloudominium, and I’ve…been here. Alone.” She glanced down at the feline snuggling against Scootaloo’s chest. “Pearl helps, but…it’s not the same.”
Scootaloo winced, her ears pinning back as her eyes dropped. She took her cocoa mug between both forehooves, sipping carefully. “I know,” she whispered. “And I’m sorry. I…” she sighed, taking another sip of her cocoa. “I can’t say how sorry I am,” she whispered as she lowered the mug. “For everything. For leaving you like that, so soon after we lost Apple Bloom. For not trying harder. I just…” She swirled her cocoa around a few times, watching a marshmallow dissolve. "I just didn’t know how to face you," she whispered. "Every time I tried to write you a letter or come by or talk to you at work, I’d think about the look on your face when I left, and I’d…I’d chicken out. It wasn’t fair to you, but…but I just couldn’t."
Sweetie Belle’s gaze dropped to the envelope. “It was always the three of us, wasn’t it?” she murmured, her voice soft and hollow. “And I thought it was always going to be the three of us. Even when we were off doing our own things, pursuing different interests, we always came back to each other.” She blew out a breath, letting it puff her cheeks out for a moment. “I knew you and Apple Bloom better than anyone…or I thought I did.” She shook her head, running a hoof over her mane. “You two were my home, my family, more than my parents or even Rarity. I…” Her voice hitched and she had to force down a sob. “I really thought, when you confessed to us, that all my dreams were coming true…that we were going to get our own fairy tale ending. Happily ever after.”
The captive sob finally broke free and Sweetie Belle shook her head, raising a forehoof to dash away her tears. "The house has felt so quiet without you," she said, her voice trembling. "Every creak and groan sounds louder, every empty chair seems to scream at me. I barely use the dining table because it reminds me of us sitting together, laughing and sharing stories over dinner. It’s like…I can still feel you here, even though I know you’re not." Her lips curved in a faint, bittersweet smile, her lips trembling. "I remember Apple Bloom laughing so hard at one of your jokes, she spat cider all over the table," she murmured. "We spent an hour cleaning up after that, but I didn’t care. I had you two. It felt like I’d have you forever." Her voice cracked, and she pressed a hoof to her mouth as though it might hold her pain inside.
Scootaloo seemed to hunch down farther and farther under the weight of Sweetie Belle’s words, her shoulders rising defensively as her ears pinning back. Her wings seemed to twitch, as though restless to break free of her disability and take flight, to flee the heaviness of the moment. “I’m sorry,” she repeated, her voice the barest whisper. “I…it doesn’t excuse me leaving you like that, but I was hurting, too. When Apple Bloom left, it was like…like I was a puzzle piece that didn’t fit anymore." Scootaloo paused, swallowing audibly, her voice thick with emotion when she continued. “And you—you were the one thing still holding me together, Sweetie Belle. But it hurt, because every time I looked at you, I thought of her. Of us. And I hated myself for not being strong enough to make it work. Having you there, but not her…”
Scootaloo shook her head, her own eyes glistening with tears as her feathery bangs tumbled over her forehead. “Maybe it should have made it easier, still having you there, but it didn’t. It was like this constant ache…like when I lost that tooth crashing my scooter and I couldn’t stop probing the socket with my tongue, but in my heart.” She shuddered, finally looking up at Sweetie Belle from under her eyelashes. “I…like you said, it was always the three of us, since we were ten years old,” she murmured. “I think…I think once Apple Bloom left, I had to find out who I am without you.”
Sweetie Belle’s laugh was soft and bitter. “I remember you used to hate stuff like looking inside and finding out who you are,” she said quietly. “You thought to get our cutie marks, we just had to find something awesome enough to do.” She shook her head, sipping at her cocoa and wishing she had something stronger. “So, did you? Find out, I mean,” she asked.
Scootaloo shrugged her shoulders as Pearlescent hopped from her lap up onto the table. “I…well, I’m still not sure,” she murmured. “You two were such a huge part of me for so long. But…” She looked up from her cocoa, forcing herself to meet Sweetie Belle’s eyes. “But I do know that my life is emptier without you and Apple Bloom in it. And even if Apple Bloom doesn’t want to be part of…this…anymore…” Scootaloo motioned vaguely between Sweetie Belle and herself, her voice trailing off
Sweetie Belle’s breath caught in her throat at Scootaloo’s confession, her eyes welling up with tears once again. She swallowed hard, looking away from the orange pegasus and not replying for several long moments. Finally, she asked, “Have you talked to Apple Bloom? Or heard from her?”
Instead of replying verbally, Scootaloo reached into the pocket of her jacket and took out an envelope, placing it next to Sweetie Belle’s on the table. Other than the address, the creases from being carried around in such a manner and still being completely sealed, it was identical to the one Sweetie Belle had been agonizing over. “I got this a week ago,” Scootaloo murmured. “I…haven’t had the nerve to open it.”
Sweetie Belle’s magic flickered faintly around her mug, her breath hitching at the sight of the second envelope. A lump rose in her throat, the weight of unspoken words suddenly heavier, as if Apple Bloom’s letter carried the power to rebuild—or irreparably shatter—what was left of their broken bond. The thought of brash, carefree Scootaloo being afraid to open a simple envelope drew another involuntary laugh/sob from the unicorn mare. She stared at the two identical envelopes, her magic flickering faintly around hers. The room felt unbearably still, save for the faint ticking of the clock and the soft rumble of Pearlescent’s purring. “They look the same,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “Do you think they say the same thing?”
Scootaloo’s wings twitched again, her hoof brushing against her own envelope before pulling back. “Maybe,” she admitted. “But...I think I need to hear what she said to you first.” Her voice cracked slightly as she added, “I don’t know if I can handle mine on my own.”
Sweetie Belle hesitated, her gaze flicking between Scootaloo and the letter she had started to open earlier. Slowly, she picked it up in her telekinesis, her hooves trembling slightly as she continued to tear the seam she had begun earlier. “Alright,” she said softly, her throat tight. “We’ll do mine first.”
Opening the envelope revealed a simple Hearth’s Warming card inside, bearing an illustration of Clover the Clever, Private Pansy and Smart Cookie gathered around the first Flame of Friendship. When Sweetie Belle opened the card, a photograph fell out, along with a folded square of paper. Sweetie Belle glanced down at the picture…Apple Bloom posing with Rumble and the Apple family in front of the barn…then read aloud the printed message inside the card. "As the First Flame of Friendship melted the winter’s chill, may love, kindness, and harmony warm your Hearth's Warming still.” Under the greeting-card message was a simple, “Love always, Apple Bloom.”
Sniffling, Sweetie Belle passed the card and photograph over to Scootaloo, then picked the folded paper up in her telekinesis and unfolded it. Taking a deep, bracing breath, she began to read aloud.
Dear Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo-
I’ve heard about the difficulties you’ve been having since I left. I hope you can read this together, but just in case, I’m sending you each a copy.
I’ve been working on this letter for days, trying to figure out what to say. I’ve been thinking about us a lot lately…everything we shared and lost…and Rumble finally forced me to sit down and put pen to paper. Threats to raid my stash of Hearth’s Warming cookies may have been involved.
All jokes aside, I don’t know if there’s a way to say what I need to say without hurting you more than I already have, but I have to try. You both deserve that much.
First, I want you to know that I love you. I always have, and I always will. Not in the way you wanted me to, maybe not even in the way I thought I did, but in the way that comes from sharing so many years and memories and pieces of ourselves. You were my best friends, my family, my safe place. That hasn’t changed.
But...the truth is, I’ve realized that the love I felt for you wasn’t the same as the love you felt for me. I wanted it to be. I told myself it was. And for a while, I believed it. I believed that because we were so close, because we fit together so well, it would work. I thought I could ignore the parts of me that didn’t fit into our “us.” But as much as I wanted to give you everything, I couldn’t give you what I didn’t have.
It’s taken me a long time to understand this about myself, but I need to say it: I don’t think I was ever in love with either of you in the way you deserved. What I felt for you was deep and real and true, but it wasn’t romantic—not in the way it needed to be to build a life together.
When I look back at us, I see so much good. I see us as foals, searching for our cutie marks, getting into trouble, laughing so hard it felt like the whole world was ours. I see the moments when we held each other up, when we dreamed and planned and chased after the future together. I see our hearts, strong as horses. But I also see the cracks, the ways I started pulling away without meaning to, and the way those cracks widened until they broke us apart.
I don’t know how to explain what it felt like to realize that what I wanted—a family with foals of my own, a partner who could give me that in the way I dreamed of—wasn’t something I could have with you. I hated myself for wanting something that would hurt you both so deeply. I hated myself for feeling like I had to choose.
But I did choose, and I know I hurt you when I left. I’ll never stop being sorry for that. If I could take away the pain I caused, I would, even if it meant carrying it all myself.
Rumble’s been encouraging me to reach out, to try to fix things—not the way they were, but the way they could be. He says I should have done it sooner, but the truth is, I’ve been scared. Scared you wouldn’t want to hear from me. Scared of making things worse. When I heard about you two breaking up, I wanted so much to encourage you to keep fighting for each other, but I knew how hollow that would ring when I was the first one to walk away. So I’ve just watched from afar, stewing in my own cowardice. Taking so long to reach out is one more thing I’m sorry for.
I’m not writing to ask for forgiveness. I know I might not deserve it. But I am writing to tell you that what we had mattered. It mattered to me, and I know it mattered to you, too. I’ll always treasure what we shared, even if it wasn’t meant to last forever.
I hope you find your way back to each other, but more than that, I hope you find what brings you peace and joy. You both deserve nothing less. And if, someday, you can find it in your hearts to forgive me, I would love to find a way back to the friendship we had before. No matter what, I’ll always cherish what we shared.
Love always,
Apple Bloom
Slowly, Sweetie Belle set the letter back down on the table. Despite the way her voice had hitched and cracked at several points, she had managed to get through the whole thing in one sitting. The kitchen was quiet but for Pearlescent’s rumbling purr where she had curled up in the chair next to Sweetie Belle. Both mares gazed at the creased sheet of paper, the weight of its words lingering in the air like a melancholic melody.
“Well,” Scootaloo finally said, her voice soft and raw. “That’s…a lot to take in.” She looked down at her mug of cocoa, now lukewarm and untouched for several minutes. Her wings twitched restlessly, betraying the whirlwind of emotions she was trying to contain.
Sweetie Belle nodded, her throat still tight. “Yeah,” she murmured, tracing a hoof around the edge of her own mug. “I knew she was dating Rumble, but…hearing it all like this…it’s like she’s finally closed the door, you know?” Her eyes glistened, but she blinked rapidly, fighting the tears back.
Scootaloo shifted uncomfortably, her ears flicking back. “I didn’t realize she felt like that. About…us. About what we had.” She shook her head. “No, that’s a lie,” she admitted. “She tried telling us often enough, especially toward the end. I just didn’t want to listen.”
Sweetie Belle nodded. “Yeah,” she sighed, reaching over to run a gentle hoof over Pearlescent’s soft fur. Finally, after several long moments, she glanced back up at her ex-wife. “But…she wasn’t wrong. What we had…it did matter. More than anything.”
Scootaloo started to shake her head again, an echo of the old anger from the fights they had in the last months before Apple Bloom left their marriage flickering across her face. She stopped herself before any angry words could spill forth, though, and her breath left her in a soft sigh. “Yeah,” she agreed. “It did. It still does.” She glanced up at Sweetie Belle from under her naturally long, beautiful eyelashes, one of the few traditionally feminine things about her appearance. “Sweetie Belle, I…” Scootaloo paused, shaking her head and dropping her gaze. “I sound like a broken record, but…I’m sorry. For not being there for you. For not being strong enough. For…”
“Shhhh…” Sweetie Belle reached a hoof across the table to place it over Scootaloo’s. “That’s enough, Scootaloo,” she whispered. “Enough apologizing. Enough recriminations. You weren’t the only one who let things fall apart after Apple Bloom left.” She glanced at the letter, then up at Scootaloo. “I have more than enough to be sorry for, too.”
Scootaloo fell silent under Sweetie Belle’s gentle admonishment, looking down at their joined hooves. After a few moments, she whispered, “So…what happens now? Where do we go from here?” Her eyes flicked back up from their hooves to Sweetie Belle’s face again. “Do we…go anywhere at all?”
Sweetie Belle didn’t reply for several long moments. Finally, she hooked her fetlock with Scootaloo’s and brought the pegasus’ hoof to her lips to give it a gentle kiss, then lowered her head to press their joined hooves to the base of her horn. “I’m not sure,” she murmured. “But…I want to find out.” She raised her head just slightly, pressing her cheek to Scootaloo’s hoof. “Rarity called earlier. She invited me to come spend Hearth’s Warming with her and the others in Canterlot.”
“Rainbow Dash said the same thing to me,” Scootaloo nodded. “She and Applejack left on the train this morning. I…I still hadn’t decided whether to take her up on it.” She glanced upward, in the general direction of her old mentor/surrogate big sister’s cloudominium. “Do you think they planned it like that? To invite both of us and see what happened?”
Sweetie Belle shook her head. “I don’t know,” she breathed. “It wouldn’t surprise me, but they might just know each other so well that they end up thinking alike on some things, without having to plan for it.”
After a few moments, Scootaloo asked, “So…do you want to go? Or should I stay here? Or…?”
Sweetie Belle raised her other forehoof, placing it softly over Scootaloo’s lips. “I…I think I might call her back,” she whispered. “We can catch the next train. I…if you want to, I really want to give this…us…another shot. It won’t be the same as before, but…but I don’t want to let you go again.” Her jade-green eyes met Scootaloo’s amethyst, full of fragile hope. “Not without a fight.” A tentative smile flickered across her lips. “It’ll be like…a second first date.”
The small joke drew a quiet laugh from Scootaloo, like the cracking of thin winter ice. “I’d like that,” she murmured. “I’d really like that. I…” She hesitated, searching for the right words. “I don’t know where this will lead, but…but I don’t want to run away again. I want to fight for you. For us.”
Scootaloo glanced at the letter again, her gaze lingering. “Do you think Apple Bloom really meant it?” she asked softly. “About wanting to hear from us? I mean…I want to believe she does, but…” She shook her head, her voice trailing off. “I don’t know what I would say.”
Sweetie Belle nodded. “I think we should,” she replied softly. “I mean…I haven’t sent her a Hearth’s Warming card or anything. I didn’t think I could bear it before, but…” Her fetlock squeezed Scootaloo’s. “Even if it’s hard, I think it would mean a lot to her-and to us-to let her know we’re thinking of her…and that we wish her well.” She glanced at the letter once more. “Reading Apple Bloom’s letter…it reminded me how real what we had was, even if it wasn’t perfect. Even if it wasn’t…” Her throat tightened momentarily, and her voice hitched. “Even if it wasn’t right for her.”
As Scootaloo nodded, rising from her seat to go retrieve the call crystal, Sweetie Belle found another new lyric springing to her mind, still sad and wistful, but now tinged with hope, like the faintest tinge of light on the horizon to herald a new dawn.
Love is in tears, But hope lingers through the doubts and fears. Two paths, crossing once more, Trying to rebuild stronger than before…