Parting Words

by RealityCheck

Rating: everyone
Tags: Sad, Comedy, Adventure
Length: 11976

A really really really short vignette, that grew.

Princess Celestia is sending Twilight Sparkle off to save the Crystal Kingdom. But before she goes she has a few things to say….

Based off the season 3 opener. Now has its own TVTropes Page!

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-01-17 02:53:04 UTC

Chapter 1

“I have complete confidence that you will save the Crystal Empire.  Now go... there is no time to lose.”  The doors to the throne room closed, hiding the royal sisters from view.

Stunned, Twilight turned to go.  Princess Celestia wanted her – her! – to save an entire Empire from the forces of Darkness...

She didn’t just... give me a thirty-second infodump and... send me on my way?

No, surely... I mean, she wouldn’t...

It’s not such a big deal though, really?  I mean, she... does this sort of thing... to us... all the time...

Slowly, deep in Twilight’s brain, levers and switches were thrown, and meticulously engineered gears began to turn.  For the first time, something – some little meter or warning light deep in her psyche that had remained utterly dark her entire life – went **ping...

...or perhaps, snap.

The Princesses had just turned back and were walking to their thrones, murmuring to each other, when there was a sudden flurry of knocking at the doors.  Surprised, Celestia and Luna looked back – but before either of them could raise their magic, the doors flew open with a bang.  There stood Twilight Sparkle, wearing a very unsettling smile.

“Ohhh, Princess,” she said in a sing-song voice as she trotted into the room.  “Just a few things I wanted to ask before I go, aheh.  After all, before I go rushing off to the Crystal Empire, I should make sure that I’ve prepared, right?”

Celestia and Luna stared at one another, then at Twilight.  Celestia regarded her pupil, eyebrow raised.  “...Yyyes, of course, my faithful student,” she said hesitantly.  “What were you needing?”

“Oh, nothing much, just a few teeny-tiny things,” Twilight said with forced cheerfulness as she trotted past the thrones, heading for the far end of the room.  Both Princesses trailed after her, bemused.  “And I’m sure you can spare them – I mean, after all, you’re the Princesses, right?”

Celestia’s brow furrowed slightly.  She wasn’t sure where this was going.  “Such as?”

Twilight beamed like a schoolfilly.  “Oh, let’s start with the basics.  Equipment, supplies, a few train tickets...”  The smile slid off her face like it was greased as she stepped up next to the door to the royal vault.  “...The Elements of Harmony...”

Celestia started to protest.  “And what makes you think that – ”

“Evil unicorn king, cursed empire, vanished a thousand years, call it a hunch,” Twilight deadpanned.  “We’re pretty likely to need ‘em, and it’s a long way to send Spike to fetch ‘em when we do.”

“We keep the Elements here for safekeeping – ”

Twilight channeled her Inner Spike.  “And how well is that working out for you?” she said, eyebrows level.  “Out of the last three times we needed the Elements, and I mean desperately absolutely immediately *needed*** them, you had put them ‘someplace safe.’  The first time, my friends and I nearly got killed retrieving them from the Everfree Forest.  The second time, Discord got them first anyway, right out from under your nose.  All he would have had to do was drop them in the ocean or chuck them in a live volcano.  If he hadn’t been an idiot, Equestria would have been screwed.

“And the third time, we never got to them at all!  Chrysalis and her army nearly had Canterlot for lunch because we couldn’t get to the vault that held Equestria’s most powerful weapon, and we couldn’t have unlocked it if we had!

“The whole thing’s stupid anyway.  My friends and I are the only ones who can use the Elements, and they only work when they and we are all together.  If someone wanted to take the Orbital Friendship Beam out of the equation, they’d just have to kidnap us – and not even all of us, just one.  Which they wouldn’t dare try if we had the Elements at hand to defend ourselves.  You might as well just let us keep the Elements with us all the time; at least we’d stand a fighting chance when whatever Sealed-Evil-in-a-Can due to escape this week shows up and tries to eat us.”  Throughout her entire monologue, Twilight had kept a neutral expression on her face.  It would take someone very observant to notice the twitch in one of her eyes.

Celestia’s normally benevolent expression had gone rather neutral as well.  “I... concede the point.  Very well,” she said, stepping forward to unlock the vault.

Luna suddenly brushed past her.  “Allow me, dear Sister,” she said, her voice suspiciously sweet.  She lowered her horn and unlocked the vault; then, with a flick of indigo magic, she retrieved the box with the elements inside and passed it to Twilight who, after opening it and confirming that the Elements were in fact inside, nodded and slipped it into her saddlebag.

“Anything else?” Celestia said, her voice a little cool.

Twilight scrunched up her nose and smirked.  “Ohhhh, just a few teeny-weeny other little things...”

Celestia sighed.  “What?”

“Guards.  Soldiers.  You know – big, burly, covered in armor, all over the place, spend all their time flexing their muscles at the noblewomen, supposed to protect Equestria from its enemies...”

“Twilight, I’m not caring for this tone...” Celestia said warningly.

“I’ve been thinking about that a while,” Twilight continued as if Celestia hadn’t spoken.  “That having a few soldiers along for a dangerous mission might be a good idea, I mean.  At least since, you know, that one time you sent me and five other teenage mares up a mountain to evict a giant fire-breathing dragon.  Or when you sent us out alone to face Discord. Or that time – ”

Celestia’s face was red.  “You were in no real danger from the dragon...”

“No danger?! That dragon nearly had hickory-smoked unicorn for a bedtime snack!” Twilight shrieked.  The change was so startling that the Princesses actually took a step or two back, hastily reevaluating just how close the high-strung little unicorn was to an explosion.  The last time Twilight had lost her grip, ponies had been turned into houseplants, and the School for Gifted Unicorns ended up needing a new roof.

In the next blink Twilight had composed herself and was back to speaking in her normal voice.  “So I decided it would probably would be proper if, when I’m going out on a dangerous mission in the name of the Crown – like, say, now – that my friends and I have some backup.  Just a few someponies under my direction with more combat training and experience than a party planner, a dressmaker, a weather-pony, a veterinarian and a farmer.”  She held her forehooves apart.  “Juuuuust an eeny-weeny bit more.”

“Not that it’s particularly important,” Twilight went on breezily.  “I mean, my friends and I are only the Bearers of the Elements, it’s not like it would be a national catastrophe if we were stomped by a dragon, or eaten by an Ursa Major, or pincushioned with arrows by highwayponies, or kidnapped by buffalo, or – ”

“Point.  Made.” Celestia said tersely.  The Solar Diarch was developing a rather frosty demeanor as this little discussion went on.

The Lunar Diarch, however, was amused as hell.  “All quite sensible requests, Twilight Sparkle,” she said in a far-too-pleased voice.  “Canst thou think of anything else thou might desire...?”

“An expense account, maybe,” Twilight noted.  “And maybe access to some of the royal amenities, like the royal zeppelin or the chariot, seeing as we’re in a hurry?  Two or three unicorn mages from the Academy might be nice,” she added, without looking up.  She had laid out her saddlebags on the floor and was shuffling through their contents.  “In this case, one that’s versed in the Crystal Empire might be handy, seeing as how I know diddly-squat about the place.  If not, I could still use some magical help... and some scholastic.  Thus far the magical expertise on the team has been me – and a seamstress.”

She looked up.  “Come to think of it, we’re lopsided all the way through.  We’ve got the best flier in Equestria, and a pegasus who almost never flies, plus an earth pony who’s as strong as a team of oxen, and another who’s fifty percent cake by body weight.  It’s a miracle we haven’t been squashed like bugs half a dozen times.  Seeing as I’m trying to break a curse on an entire Empire, a few more ponies with some actual book knowledge might be, you know, useful.  Oh, and that reminds me: I have one more request...”

Twilight spun around and leapt forward, standing nose-to-nose with the Princess of the Sun.  Celestia stumbled back and fell down on her backside in surprise.

“Tell me what. The buck. Is going on.”

Celestia, Diarch of the Sun, Princess of Equestria, the millennia-old alicorn ruler, babbled.  “What do you – I’ve told you – but I – everything you need to know – ”

“Buffalo brownies!” Twilight said.  “All the way back to Nightmare Moon, you’ve been treating me like a mushroom; keeping me in the dark and feeding me loads of horseapples!”  Luna suppressed a snort of laughter.  Oblivious, Twilight went on speaking, mimicking the Solar Princess.  “Dear Twilight, get your nose out of those musty old books and go schedule a party... it’s not like Night Eternal is about to fall or anything...”

“I didn’t tell you about Nightmare Moon because if I had, the plan would have unraveled.  You had to make friends – real friends – for the Elements to work...” Celestia tried to explain calmly.

“You think maybe the time to start on that might’ve been a little sooner than the night before her return?!” Twilight yelled.  “And never mind that – a few heads-up notes someplace might have been appreciated!  ‘If you are reading this, Twilight, my demigod sister has returned from the moon, she can be defeated with the Elements of Harmony, here’s a map!’  ‘Dear Twilight, that ugly statue in the garden is an evil avatar of Chaos, be careful, don’t let him reverse your brain!  Here are a few dozen armed guards for when you face down a mad demigod of chaos!’  ‘Hey Twilight, guess what, my niece is marrying your brother!  But be on your guard, we’ve been threatened by the Changeling Kingdom!’  ‘Twilight, dragons can grow really really fast, keep an eye on Spike!’  ‘Oh by the way, Twilight, my pet bird is a phoenix, no need to worry if it looks sick or bursts into flame!’

“And now this time it’s ‘Dear Twilight, the Crystal Kingdom, previously ruled by an evil unicorn, has reappeared after a thousand years, it has a curse on it, go save it!’  What crystal kingdom?  What curse?  Where’s the evil leader, and how in Equestria am I supposed to save it?  I could get more information off the back of a hoofball bubblegum card!”

Celestia got to her hooves.  She towered over the ranting little unicorn, clearly losing her temper.  “You have been told all you need to know!” she said in the Canterlot Royal Voice. “I told you, this was to be a test – ”

Twilight was too far gone to even flinch. “A test?!” she shouted back.  “The fate of an entire kingdom at stake, and you want to make it a TEST?!

“All that tells me is that you already know all the answers, and precisely how to fix this, and you just aren’t telling me!  I don’t care what it is you’re ‘testing’ me for.  Forget it, I don’t care!  The welfare of other ponies is supposed to come first for a ruler, no matter what.  So either tell me everything I need to know, or find somepony else to do this, because I’m not going to imperil hundreds or even thousands of innocent ponies trying to get a gold sticker from you on a TEST!”

The throne room’s walls rang in the silence.  Celestia stood there in shock, staring at her pupil, mouth agape.  “So, what’s it going to be?” Twilight said, suddenly as mellow and cheerful as... well, truthfully, as she’d never been.

Celestia’s mouth closed so suddenly her teeth clicked.  She sighed, closed her eyes, and summoned her magic.  There was a pop!, and several items appeared in midair: a sizable book with a latch and an embossed cover; a large, ancient scroll; and several smaller scrolls with the royal seal.

“This volume is a brief history of the Crystal Empire, and is the most complete source of information we have on Sombra’s former kingdom,” she said.  “These scrolls give you the authority to recruit whatever troops you deem fit.  Show it to the acting Captain of the Guard.  This one is to the Headmaster of the Unicorn Academy, allowing you command the services of any of the scholars and researchers of the Academy for the duration of your mission... and this one is a blank check to the royal treasury.  Please keep all your receipts.”  The last item to go into Twilight’s saddlebags was the ancient-looking parchment.  “This... is a detailed description of the curse laid on the Crystal Empire – or at least, as much detail as we could ascertain – and some few notes on what might be necessary to break it.”  She looked down at her student, face impassive.  “Is there anything else you wish to say before you go, Twilight Sparkle?”

Twilight nodded.  “Yes.  I’m afraid I can no longer be your student.”  Pain shot across Princess Celestia’s features.  “I can’t be a pupil to somepony who is constantly misleading me, or deceiving me, or conducting little tests on me.  I can’t learn from somepony who is always... leaving me in the dark.”  She took a deep, calming breath.  “I don’t know what you had planned for me... and I really don’t care anymore.  After this mission is done... I quit.”

She put on her saddlebags, got to her feet, and bowed politely to both Princesses.  “I won’t let you down, your Majesties.”  And with a smile, she trotted out of the throne room.

The doors closed with a bang.  Celestia and Luna stared after the departed unicorn; Celestia, with an expression of shock and dismay and slowly dawning loss; Luna, with an enigmatic smirk.  Bewildered, Celestia looked at her sister.  She found little comfort in the seemingly-unfeeling grin on the Lunar Princess’ face.

“Oh, Luna... what has happened here?” she asked in dismay.

Luna gave a “tch!” sound and rolled her eyes.  “Thy own chess-playing and masterminding and oh-so-clever mummery has come a-cropper, is what has happened,” she said.  “Ponies speak of being unwilling pawns... but methinks even were they King and Queen, they would resent being played with.”

Celestia shook her head.  “But... I had such hopes for her,” she said.  “This test was to be such an important step...”

“Fie on thy test,” Luna said.  Her knowing smirk grew into a know-it-all grin.  “From what I did see, Twilight did pass the real test with flying colors.”  She sauntered past her unhappy sister.  “Will thou do as well on thy portion of the exam, I wonder?” she added, before vanishing into the shadows.

—— —— — —— — —— ——

Out in the hallway, in a dim alcove where nopony could see her, Twilight sat hunched over, weeping quietly.  After a few minutes her tears stopped; she wiped her eyes with a hoof and started walking again.  Places to go, ponies to see... enough time for regrets later.

There was a Crystal Empire to save.

King Francis was a hearty king, and loved a royal sport,

And one day as his lions fought, sat looking on the court;

The nobles filled the benches, and the ladies in their pride,

And ‘mongst them sat the Count de Lorge, with one for whom he sighed:

And truly ‘twas a gallant thing to see that crowning show,

Valour and love, and a king above, and the royal beasts below.

Ramped and roared the lions, with horrid laughing jaws;

They bit, they glared, gave blows like beams, a wind went with their paws;

With wallowing might and stifled roar they rolled on one another;

Till all the pit with sand and mane was in a thunderous smother;

The bloody foam above the bars came whisking through the air;

Said Francis then, “Faith, gentlemen, we’re better here than there.”

De Lorge’s love o’erheard the King, a beauteous lively dame

With smiling lips and sharp bright eyes, which always seemed the same;

She thought, the Count my lover is brave as brave can be;

He surely would do wondrous things to show his love of me;

King, ladies, lovers, all look on; the occasion is divine;

I’ll drop my glove, to prove his love; great glory will be mine.

She dropped her glove, to prove his love, then looked at him and smiled;

He bowed, and in a moment leaped among the lions wild:

The leap was quick, return was quick, he has regained his place,

Then threw the glove, but not with love, right in the lady’s face.

“By God!” said Francis, “rightly done!” and he rose from where he sat:

“No love,” quoth he, “but vanity, sets love a task like that.”

The Glove and the Lions

By Leigh Hunt

Chapter 2

Cadence sat up in bed and rolled the glass jar over in her hooves, contemplating the tiny wisp of smoke curling inside.  “Soooo...” she said carefully.  “King Sombra?”

Twilight nodded over her tea.  “Well... what’s left of him, anyway.  Don’t worry, the jar is Hermetically sealed.{1}  So, feeling any better?”

Cadence nodded.  “A good rest was just what the doctor ordered,” she said.  “I’m just astonished at how quickly Sombra was defeated.”

Twilight, Spike and Cadence were in the Princess’ royal bedchamber, having a bit of tea and holding a “debriefing”, for lack of a better word, of the events over the past few days.  Cadence had been asleep for most of it; she had been single-hoofedly sustaining the magic barrier for days prior to the Bearers’ arrival, and had collapsed almost immediately after Sombra had been defeated.  Then she’d woken up just long enough to open the Crystal Fair and lead the Crystal Ponies in recharging the Heart that protected the Empire... and after a day of overseeing the festivities, had promptly keeled over again, sleeping through the remainder of the week.

Twilight shook her head.  Just like the wedding; Cadence had shrugged off weeks of imprisonment, malnourishment and exhaustion to arrange her own wedding in a single day, danced at her own reception, and didn’t show a sign of exhaustion till their honeymoon carriage had driven off... at which point she’d reportedly folded like a tent, and slept away the first two days of her own honeymoon.  Where did she get such reserves of strength?  Twilight was beginning to suspect that Cadence was in her own way as much a party fanatic as Pinkie Pie...

Twilight grimaced.  “It was... what’s that term Rainbow Dash uses?  A curb stomp?” she admitted.  “Sombra attacked us almost the moment we got off the train.  Not much of a strategist; he attacked the Elements of Harmony, a dozen of Celestia’s finest, three of the University’s most powerful unicorn mages, and Shining Armor as a giant cloud.  Hmph.  Never mind the mages; with all the armored pegasi in our party that was like attacking Pinkie Pie with a tray of cupcakes.”   The two ponies chuckled at the mental image.  “The airborne Guard bucked the rain and lightning out of him, then Shining Armor and the unicorn scholars held him in place with a magic barrier long enough for us to power up the Elements and, well... Rainbow of Friendship, point blank to the face.”  The tiara she still wore gleamed in counterpoint.  “The whole thing took maybe thirty seconds.”

She pondered for a moment.  “Granted, the volley of cannon fire from the train didn’t do him any favors either.” Rolling artillery, what a concept.

Her summary was fairly accurate.  The rest of their visit had been almost anticlimactic.  Twilight had spent the train ride reviewing both the Curse and the history book Princess Celestia had finally coughed up.  The remaining effect of the curse was actually little more than a weak amnesia spell.  Twilight and the three University scholars she’d snagged had almost beelined to the Crystal Heart, while the others (largely led by Pinkie Pie) had organized the Crystal Fair.  For all the ominous buildup, King Sombra had turned out to be a pathetic magic hack, as well as a pushover in combat, and his terrible “curse” had popped like a soap bubble the instant the fair got underway.  What kind of Evil Overlord relied on a mind-control spell that could be undone by a flugelhorn and a funnel cake?

Note to self: never, ever, even *imply** to Pinkie Pie that the flugelhorn had anything to do with it...*

The final magical barrier to the Crystal Heart, a doorway that opened to your worst fears, hadn’t even proven a decent obstacle to Twilight’s entry.  After all, her worst fear had already come true.

“Anyway,” Twilight said with forced cheerfulness, “now that Sombra has been taken care of and the Crystal Heart is back in place, we figured we’d be on our way.  Well, maybe after a day or two.  All of us would like to get a look around the Crystal capital, do the ‘touristy thing’ for a day or two...”  She smiled perkily and made quote marks in the air with her hooves.  “Maybe spend time with my BBBFF and my favorite sister-in-law without some giant smoke pony or shape-shifting bug ponies leaping out of the closets at us...”  She blinked.  “Oh, that reminds me; I made a list of improvements you might make to the Crystal Empire’s defenses.”

“I –” Cadence said.

“Oh, it’s nothing much, just a little list of ideas I had, and little issues that crossed my mind,” Twilight said with a grin.  “Well, I mean, it sort of occurred to me that you might want to supplement the Crystal Heart with something a little more, um...”

Cadence cocked an eyebrow, waiting.

“...um, practical,” Twilight finished.  “I mean, no offense, but after all, King Sombra conquered the Crystal Empire even with the Heart in place – I’m still researching exactly how he did that – and there are other enemies who... well, I mean the Heart is powered by Love and Hope, and Changelings feed on love...”

There were thousands of them, tens of thousands of insectile ponies clinging to the great Crystal Tower in a buzzing, undulating mass, like a swarm of bees clinging to an oak tree.  The city had been overwhelmed in moments of their arrival, and countless millions more swarmed in the air, heading for the tower as fast as they could fly.  At the center of this seething mass was Queen Chrysalis herself, clinging to the Crystal Heart with all four limbs and gnawing on it like a madmare.  “MINE MINE MINE MINE, IT’S ALL MINE ALL THE NUMMY GOODNESS IN IT IS MINE DO YOU HEAR MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE ALL MINE–!”

Cadence shivered all over, shaking off the vision, and made a mental note to start going over Crystal Empire defenses with Shining Armor immediately.  Oh yes, she was going to go over Twilight’s “little list of ideas” very, very carefully.

“Ooops.  If you’ll excuse me, I have to use the little fillies’ room,” Twilight said, setting her cup down and getting to her hooves.  “A little too much tea I’m afraid.”  She trotted out of the room.

Cadence waited for a moment to be sure Twilight was out of earshot.  She looked at Spike.  “It’s bad, isn’t it?” she said worriedly.

Spike looked at her, his expression deadpan.  “Between the crying jags, panic attacks, bouts of giddy euphoria at her ‘new freelance studies’ that spiral into fits of bleak depression at the drop of a hat?  Yeah, you might say it’s pretty bad,” he said.

“Oh dear,” Cadence lamented.  “What was Aunt Celestia thinking?  This much responsibility, so soon...”

“More like the straw that broke the camel’s back,” Spike said, reaching for the teapot.  “Oh come on,” he said at Cadence’s expression as he refilled his cup, “do you really think this was too much for Twilight?  That she ‘snapped under the strain?’  She came here and passed this ‘test’ with flying colors!  Just like every other test Princess Celestia has thrown at her.”

“Then why –?”

Spike sat back with his cup and cocked an eyebrow at her.  “Lemme try again,”  he said.  “Just like all of the other hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of tests Princess Celestia has thrown at her.  Day in, day out.  Big tests, little tests, surprise tests, trick tests she wasn’t supposed to pass... every single day since she became Celestia’s student, Celestia has been testing her.”

“I think you exaggerate a bit,” Cadence protested.

Spike looked at her.  “Cadence, you’re talking to a guy who’s birthday was Twilight Sparkle’s very first test,” he pointed out.

“Ah... well... true...”

“She was supposed to fail that one too, by the way.”

“Errrrmm...” was all the Crystal Princess could venture.

“Right.  You get it.  Ever since Twilight was a filly, it’s been like this.  She’s never known when the next test or trial or challenge was gonna come, or if she was being tested in some way right that very minute.  Why do you think she studies all the time?  Why she makes all those checklists?  Why she flips out if everything doesn’t go exactly to schedule?  The stress has made her completely bonkers.”

Cadence’s stare grew distant as she flipped through her memories of Twilight.  As a filly, as an eager new pupil, as a maturing ambitious young student... who always seemed to be frantically cramming for some yet-to-be-announced test.  Spike was right.  “Oh, poor Twilight,” Cadence murmured, her eyes wide.  “But surely Celestia is aware of this...?”

Spike snorted.  “If she is, she sure doesn’t show it,” he said.  “Did you know she once tested Twilight’s telekinesis by pretending to throw a Fabergé egg at her?”

“She didn’t!”

“Hey, I was there. ‘Did you know these eggs are worth millions of bits each?  Here, catch!’”

“Oh, that is awful!”

“That’s day to day life when you’re Celestia’s ‘faithful student,’” Spike said, making quote marks in the air with his claws.  “Frankly, once Twilight gets over her mood swings about it, quitting as Celestia’s student will be the best thing that ever happened to her.”

“Spike...”

“It’s the truth.  I mean, look at how fast she took care of business here.  That’s how good Twilight is when she doesn’t think she’s jumping through more of Celestia’s hoops.”

Cadence frowned, but said nothing.  It was true; Twilight the Loyal Student would have dithered and double-guessed herself; Twilight on her own had taken charge, moved in and got the task completed – and didn’t apologize for using what she needed to do it, or how she did it.

“Do try to understand, Spike,” Cadence said, laying a hoof on Spike’s arm.  “Princess Celestia loves Twilight dearly, as if she were her own daughter...”

“Yeah, and Twilight loves her like her own mother,” Spike said.  “But if she really loves Twilight that much, then she’ll do what’s best for Twilight, and leave her alone.”

—— —— — —— — —— ——

Far away, in a distant castle on a mountaintop, in a secluded room in its highest tower, those words echoed again from a shimmering magic mirror.  Nopony was there to hear those words, save Celestia.  So nopony was there to see the tears tracking their way down her cheeks.

{1} Oh come on, it's a magic pun, y'all. Look it up.

Chapter 3

The Ponyville train station was playing backdrop to an unusual event.  Granted, this was Ponyville;  nopony was even sure what qualified as “unusual” anymore.  Frankly, if anypony had witnessed or remembered, they would have considered it a rather run-of-the-mill occurrence; most of them had seen stranger things burst out of one of Pinkie Pie’s party cakes.  Then again, that was probably what made the event so unusual: its subtlety.

In particular, Princess Celestia came to town.

Again, not unusual.  The method of conveyance might have raised a few eyebrows; the Princess never rode by train.  Her garb most certainly would have generated some commentary; rather than her usual golden collar, tiara, and elegant gold hoofshoes{1}, she was wearing a business tie, a bowler derby, and – strangest of all – a handlebar mustache.  This, too, was not unusual.{2}  What made this whole scenario unusual, at least from an objective, outside perspective, was that absolutely nopony on the train or at the station so much as gave her a second glance.

From time to time Celestia and Luna had desired to move about the countryside incognito, whether to secretly examine the state of their nation, or to simply get away from their more pestiferous royal descendants for a few hours.  Celestia could have used any number of shapeshifting, disguise, or illusion spells that she and her sister had tried over the centuries, but the most effective one had always been a simple suggestive aura she had named (in modern parlance) the Not My Problem Spell.

Long ago Celestia had realized that the point of disguising oneself was not to take on a whole new identity, as the spy novels would have it, but simply to make ponies ignore you.  From that revelation arose the Not My Problem Spell.  The N.M.P.S. worked by the simple expedient of influencing anypony who looked in her direction to decide that whatever they were looking at was uninteresting and, more importantly, probably troublesome to bother with – and therefore, Not My Problem.

The reason for her strange garb was that the N.M.P.S. had an almost paradoxical attribute: the more unusual the pony or object it was hiding looked, the better it worked.  The reasoning was that at a certain point, the pony’s mind started doing the field’s work for it and started exerting effort convincing the pony to not pay attention to the most certainly strange thing just a few feet away.  An ordinary-looking Princess, that was something to pay attention to.  An ordinary Princess dressed in drag as a member of a barbershop quartet?  That was something any self-respecting survival instinct screamed at its owner to avoid, look away from, ignore and forget.  Thus both Celestia and Luna had a closet full of strange odds and ends of clothing set aside for assembling outfits guaranteed to make even the most observant pony subconsciously tell themselves to just look away and forget about it.{3}

Thus it was, Celestia had enjoyed a marvelously uneventful and quiet train ride from Canterlot to Ponyville.  She had bought her ticket at the Canterlot station, boarded the train with all the other ponies; and now, with a few quiet apologies for tripping over her fellow passengers with her excessively long legs, she had disembarked.  She stood on the platform, idly looking about, and by coincidence nearly tripped over the Bearer of Honesty and three young fillies.  She mumbled a hasty apology and stepped aside, standing still long enough for the N.M.P.S. to settle back down over her like a shroud.  As fate would have it, Applejack and her three companions simply stood next to her, discussing the day’s events.

Apparently Applejack and the three fillies – the Cutie Mark Crusaders, ah yes, Celestia recognized them – had just seen off some relative or other on the train back to Manehattan.  And apparently, this “Babs” filly had been something of a hoof-full, and had been the center of some troublesome friendship-related event.  Long conditioned from listening to Twilight’s Friendship Reports, Celestia leaned in and eavesdropped.

“...Now y’see, Applebloom?  If’n you had been honest right from the beginning and told me ‘r Big Macintosh ‘r Granny Smith that Babs was bullying y’all, we coulda fixed all this and you woulda been friends right from the start!”

The younger Apple’s expression could have curdled milk.  For some reason, she glanced down the length of the station to where two fussing fillies had fallen off the end of the platform into a mud puddle.  “Yeah.  That coulda worked,” she muttered.

Applejack scowled.  “Now I can’t say I care for that tone, missy...” she said warningly.

Applebloom didn’t back down an inch.  “Well dog-gone it, Applejack, why in tarnation was I supposed to think this time would be any different?”

Applejack was taken aback.  “This time?” she repeated.

All three of the Crusaders gaped at her like she’d sprouted a second head.  The orange one was the first to speak up.  “Are you kidding?” she yelped.  “Don’t you remember why we all became Cutie Mark Crusaders in the first place?”  She pointed to the muddy fillies at the end of the platform, who were being sprayed down with a garden hose by one of the conductors.  “Shoot, don’t you remember what happened five minutes ago?Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon have been bullying Applebloom and the rest of us just like that for years!”

“Now rein it in, there,” Applejack said, obviously displeased.  “Ain’t we just gone over this?  I cain’t help y’all if you don’t tell me what’s going on...”

Sweetie Belle looked downcast.  “She’s right, guys,” she said.  “I mean, Applebloom, you can’t blame her for not knowing what happens to you at school...”

“That’s right,” Applejack said.

“Or in town...” Sweetie Belle went on.

“Er...”

“Or at Sugarcube Corner...”

“Um...”

Sweetie Belle sat down and gestured wildly for emphasis.  “I mean, she didn’t even notice it when Babs smashed our first parade float, or threw us all out of our own clubhouse, or how she was making you sleep in the floor right in your own house!” she said.  “If she didn’t notice that, how would she ever notice Diamond Tiara teasing you and making fun of you and coming out to the farm to laugh at you for months and months and...”

“She was right there at the cuteceañera,” Scootaloo pointed out dryly.

“Well yeah, but so were a bunch of other grownups, and none of them remembered either,” Sweetie Belle said.  “Why shouldn’t she not notice something happening right under her nose?”

Applejack pursed her lips.  “Layerin’ on the sarcasm nice and thick there, aintcha, Sweetie Belle?” she said to Sweetie Belle.

Sweetie Belle blinked.  “I was?”

“Like I said,” Applebloom said.  “Why should I have thought this time would be any different?”

Sweetie Belle shrugged.  “It was kind of different.  Babs actually threatened to pound us if we told.”  At Applejack’s horrified expression, Sweetie Belle hastened to reassure her.  “Oh, Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon never go that far,” she said.

“Well thank the Maker for that,” Applejack muttered, staring into the distance in horror.

“She doesn’t care. Nopony ever punishes her anyways.”

“...I’m going to learn the hard way with you, ain’t I, filly,” Applejack said.

“Anyway, she never uses threats... um... unless you count the time she blackmailed us into doing the Gabby Gums column...”

“That was... she blackmailed you into doing that?!” Applejack actually looked sick.  “Applebloom, why... why didn’t you ever tell me all this was going on?”

Applebloom glared at her.  Even her hair ribbon was radiating righteous indignation.  “Ah did!  You just kept tellin’ me t’ never mind about it and ‘just ignore it’, an’ when Ah’d tell you Ah was bein’ made fun of for bein’ a blank flank, you’d go ‘oh your cutie mark will come in’... like that woulda ever made Diamond Tiara shut up...”

Celestia felt a swell of pity for the hapless earth pony.  She looked as if someone had just handed her the first place trophy in the “World’s Most Horrible Parent” contest.  Celestia couldn’t help herself; she tweaked the spell hiding herself so that they would notice... well, somepony... standing there with them.  She cleared her throat to catch their attention and did her best to give herself a more masculine-sounding voice.

“If you’ll excuse me for saying so....”

Applejack started slightly and turned to look at who’d spoken.  “Excuse me, feller?”

“If you’ll excuse me for saying so,” Celestia went on.  “I couldn’t help overhearing, and I must say, your older sister may have overlooked some of your problems, little filly,” she said to Applebloom, “but she knows now.”  She looked up at Applejack.  “That’s right, isn’t it?”

Applejack nodded.  “Darn right,” she said bleakly.

“And I’m sure she’ll do her best to try and make things better now.  After all, she did fix things with this ‘Babs’ filly, am I right?”

There was an overwhelming silence.  “Actually, no,” Scootaloo finally said.  Her voice was flat enough to serve as a level.  “She didn’t.”

“Ahh?” Celestia vocalized.  “Well, when you told her...”  She looked at Applejack.  “Well, you obviously punished the girl for bullying them – picking on them, breaking their stuff...?”

“Uh,” Applejack looked to the side.  “No.  No I didn’t.”

“Not even a scolding?”

“Actually... no.”

“Oh.  So, you told her parents, and they handled it?”

“Ummm... no.”  Applejack slumped.

“You at least gave Applebloom and her friends advice on how to deal with... no, you didn’t, did you.”  It was a statement, not a question.  Applejack merely shook her head.  “You at least told them they could defend themselves...?”

Applejack looked shocked.  “Ah didn’t want them to become bullies too,” she said plaintively.

Celestia cocked her head and chuckled.  “When I was a fil... ahem, when I was younger, a bully was somepony who picked on those who hadn’t done anything to them.  And any negative consequence they suffered was because they invited it on themselves by being bullies.  Have things really changed so that just standing up to somepony who’s hurting you, gets you called a bully?”

Applejack looked like she’d been punched in the gut.  You’ve got to be *kidding** me,* Celestia thought.

Celestia put her head down close and muttered to Applejack.  “So, um, before I dig us both in any deeper... what exactly have you done to help your sister deal with this bully problem?”

The lid on a nearby rain barrel popped open.  Pinkie Pie’s head emerged from the barrel, balancing the lid on her frizzy ‘do.  “Nothing!  Absolutely NOTHIIIIIING!!”  That said, the pink party pony vanished back into the barrel, the lid closing with a “plop.”

It said much about Ponyville that nopony present even stared long after this event.  The three fillies just turned and stared at Applejack with blistering scorn.

—— —— — —— — —— ——

On the far side of town, Pinkie Pie pulled her head back out of a cupboard and closed the door.

“What in Equestria was that about?” Twilight asked her.

“Oh nothing,” Pinkie said with a grin.  “Just felt the urge to scream into the void.”

Twilight sighed and took her to-go bag.  Sometimes she wondered if getting breakfast pastries at Sugarcube Corner was worth the damage she took to her grip on reality.

—— —— — —— — —— ——

The awkward silence slowly grew to ursan proportions.  A tumbleweed, at the end of an incredibly long detour from Appleoosa, blew through the train station.  Applejack was sitting on the platform, looking at the floorboards.  “Girls,” she said finally, “why don’t y’all go on back to the farm?  I’ll catch up later.  Tell Granny I said you could have some pie and ice cream.”  The girls galloped off.

“Um,” was all the disguised Celestia could manage.

Applejack made no reply.  She leaned over till her forehead was resting against a nearby post.  “Dear Princess Celestia,” she said out loud in a monotone.  “Today I learned that I am the worst role model for a little filly in the history of Equestria.  Sincerely, Applejack.”

Celestia started to say something two or three times.  “I’m sure you can fix all this, miss,” she finally managed.

“Maker knows how,” Applejack muttered.

Celestia refrained from saying anything more.  She turned and trotted off into town.

Celestia made her way through town, heading for the library.  It wasn’t a few blocks into her walk that she realized she felt lower than a snake’s belly.  She was already down because of what had brought her to Ponyville, but seeing her other little ponies going through this just made it even worse.  Poor Applejack.  Poor Applebloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo.  Broken trust was a hard thing to mend, and those fillies had their faith in grownups – their teacher, their parents – as pillars of justice pretty thoroughly broken.

She made a mental note to herself to review the bullying policies in the public schools when she got back to the palace.  Why hadn’t the local schoolteacher kept Applejack informed of the bullying problem Applebloom was facing?  And who was putting this “fighting back makes you a bully” nonsense in their heads?  Thank the Maker that tommyrot wasn’t going around when she and Luna were fillies; they’d all be kowtowing to Discord to this day if it had.  How had this problem gotten so out of hoof?

A pony bumped into her with a muttered apology.  She stopped in the middle of the street, feeling like a fool.  Here she was, wondering how the problem had gotten so bad, when her very ability to walk down the main street of Ponyville in anonymity relied on the very principle that caused it: the willingness of ponies to ignore a problem and hope it would go away.

Applejack had probably seen plenty of signs that Applebloom was being bullied – but she had a farm to run, so she had convinced herself they weren’t that important, just ‘one of those things foals go through.’  Their teacher had probably seen it too, but she had classes to teach, and so she’d convinced herself that posting a few rules on the blackboard about name-calling or fighting fixed it, or that it was too much trouble to tell the victim and the bully apart in a fight and that punishing everyone – or ignoring it entirely – was much easier.

The other adults had ignored it because it wasn’t their foal, after all, and surely the parents already knew.  Everypony had ignored the problem, until it blew up in their faces.

Just like she had ignored the growing stress her faithful student had been under.  That she had put her faithful student under, with all her secrets, and her ‘tests’, and her enigmatic games.

Celestia raised her head and set her mouth in a firm line.  This was no time for maudlin navel-gazing.  She had hurt Twilight.  Things between them were broken.  It was up to her to fix it, and that was what she was going to do.  She was going to go see Twilight right now...

She caught a glimpse of her reflection in a store window.  Perhaps she’d shave off the mustache, first.

{1} As distinguished from horseshoes.  Horseshoes are affixed by nailing them on, which some ponies find to be rather unpleasant and primitive... not to mention inconvenient if one wished to kick off one’s work boots and don some fuzzy slippers at the end of the day.

{2} Which says more about the Royal Sisters than you might imagine.

{3} In fact, they had to be careful to not be too enthusiastic with the accoutrements, lest they go from merely unobserved to completely invisible.  The bowler derby and tie combo was enough for polite, if discreet, interaction with “the unusually tall fellow”, while a complete polka-dotted clown suit had nearly gotten one of them run over by a carriage.

Chapter 4

Celestia stood in front of the Golden Oaks library.  She took a deep breath, let it out, and rapped gently on the door with one hoof.

There was a muffled sound of someone trotting for the door.  “Coming,” the Princess heard Spike say.  The latch clicked and the door opened – the lower half, anyway.  “Darn Dutch door,” Spike grumbled.  “Hold on a minute...”  The door shut, there were some fiddly-with-the-latches sounds, and the door reopened, properly this time.  “Sorry, if you’re here for the library we’re closed toda –”

Then Spike looked up, and saw who it was.

There was a pregnant pause.  After all, one didn’t see a princess on one’s front doorstep every day.  At least not one wearing a bowler derby, a business jacket and tie, and a handlebar mustache.  “Going incognito, I’m guessing,” he said in a monotone.  “Hello, Your Highness.  I guess you’re here to talk to Twilight.”

Celestia nodded and sighed.  “May I come in, Spike?” she asked.

The dragon whelp raised his eyebrows at how... subdued the Princess sounded.  She wasn’t just being polite; she was humbly asking permission.  He had no doubt that if he said “no”, and closed the door, she would simply turn around and walk away.  “O-okay,” he said, stepping aside.  “Twilight’s in the main reading room, if you wanna talk to her.  But I gotta tell you, I don’t know how she’s gonna react.  May I take your mus – I mean your hat and jacket?”

“No need,” Celestia said.  Magic sparked in her horn, and her outfit disappeared.  Three leaves, still glittering from transformation magic, fluttered to the floor.  Another spark, and her mustache disappeared in a puff of sparkles.

“Sweet trick,” Spike said.  He gathered up the leaves.  “I’ll, uh, put these someplace.”  He waddled off, leaving Celestia to gather her nerve.

The Princess shook herself, took a cleansing breath, and stepped through the doorway.  There was Twilight, sitting at an oak table, surrounded on all sides by books and papers.  She was perusing yet another volume and was carefully taking notes on an oversized scroll next to her, the quill sparkling purple as it danced over the paper.  Celestia didn’t know why she was surprised; this was Twilight, right to the core.  She would hear the end of the world was coming and would probably bury her nose in a book.

Come to think of it, the last three or four times the world nearly ended, that’s pretty much what she did...

Even somepony as bookish as Twilight couldn’t help notice an alicorn stepping into the room.  She looked up in surprise, her pen halting in mid word.  “Princess!” she said, starting to step forward.  Then she halted, remembering herself.  Her quill darted up and planted itself in the inkwell.  “...Your Highness.  What can I do for you?” she said, bowing formally.

So very formally.

Celestia felt a twinge of... she didn’t know what.  Anger?  Sorrow?  “I see you are continuing your studies,” she said, trying to distract herself from her feelings, addressing the book-laden table.

“Kind of,” Twilight said vaguely.  Celestia took a second look at the stacked books, reading some of the titles.  Continuing Your Post-University Education.  Internships for Dummies.  Correspondence Colleges for Unicorns.  College or Career: Choosing the Right Path for You.  Jobs for the Academic.

Twilight stepped over to the table.  “I’ve been trying to decide which direction to take, now that – now that I’m no longer your student,” she finished.  She flushed a little and looked away, hefting several of the books in her magic and pretending to peruse them.  “I’ve made arrangements with the Mayor; I’m now officially on the town payroll as librarian, so that’s taken care of – but other than that...  well, there are so many choices.  Should I choose an internship?  Apply for a grant for independent study?  Maybe take a teaching job at the School for Gifted Unicorns?  Work as a lab assistant for a Professor?  So many choices...”  She actually started to sound enthusiastic.  “And in what area?  Astronomy, Thaumaturgical Archaeology, Library Sciences, applied magical engineering, one of the ‘pure’ magic research fields – evocation, conjuration, transmutation...  I hear there’s always openings in the High Energy Magical Research Facility.  It seems their lab workers keep turning into stoats...”{1}

Celestia raised a hoof, interrupting Twilight’s rambling.  “Twilight,” she said earnestly.  “Please...”

A gamut of expressions flitted across Twilight’s face, before finally settling.  She looked around.  “I suppose you want to talk, then,” she said.  “I’d offer you a cushion, but...  I don’t think we have any in your size here.”  She laughed awkwardly.  “Really should do something about that.  You never know when an alicorn might be stopping by the library, ha ha...”

If you only knew, Celestia thought to herself.  She floated two or three of the smaller cushions over and lay down on them, pulling a fourth along for Twilight.  “Please sit, Twilight.”  Reluctantly, her former pupil did so.  There was a long, awkward silence as the two sat, neither willing to look the other in the eye.

“I... suppose neither of us knows where to begin,” Celestia finally said.  “So let us begin at the beginning.  Twilight...”  The Princess’ eyes were unspeakably sad.  “When did you start to lose faith in me?”

Twilight looked up at her, surprised.  Then, not so surprised.  “I guess that’s as good a way of saying it as any,” she said.  “When?  I’d say shortly after I moved to Ponyville.”

Celestia blinked in dismay.  “That long?”

“Oh, I bottled it up,” Twilight said, meeting Celestia’s eye.  “But that was when it started.  My little eruption at the palace was just the finish.”

“Why?” Celestia pressed.

Twilight’s brow furrowed, but her gaze never left Celestia’s  “For several reasons,” she said.  “It wasn’t long after Princess Luna’s return that I started thinking about how it all happened.  I mean, really thinking.”  Her pensive look slowly turned into a scowl.  “It didn’t take me long to figure out I’d been used.”

“Used?”

“Used,” Twilight said with finality.  “Come on, Princess.  ‘You really need to get your nose out of those dusty old books, Twilight?’  ‘I never said you were wrong, Twilight?’”  Agitated, Twilight got to her feet and began pacing.  “Funny how that book on the Elements of Harmony just happened to be part of my assigned studies.  And what a coincidence that the Summer Sun Celebration was in the town closest to where the Elements of Harmony were hidden.  And how fortuitous it was that I was picked to oversee the preparations.  Oh no, wait – that was all *you.**”  Her tail twitched as she paced back and forth, glaring a hole in the floor.  “You had it all planned out with a capital ‘P’.  Well, except for the part where I had to go into a *magically cursed forest and face a mad moon goddess...”

She wheeled about, facing Celestia again.  “Why couldn’t you just tell me?  Did you think I wouldn’t do my best to help?  Did you think that I’d run away if I knew what I was getting into?

“Me lose faith in you?  When did you lose faith in me?”

She took up pacing again.  “But there was no time to think about that when we were going to face Nightmare Moon.  And afterward...”  She stopped pacing.  “And afterward, I couldn’t.  Because every time I thought about it, other questions kept bubbling up to the surface too.  How long had you planned this?  How much did you interfere with my life, with my friends’ lives, to make sure it happened?  How much of my life – of our lives – was just you pulling puppet strings to get what you wanted?

“But I packed that away...  and kept packing it away, again and again.  Every time some ‘crisis’ came up and you gave it to me, instead of to your generals or your archmages, or your thousands of other ponies who were supposed to be handling that sort of thing.”  She stopped in her hooftracks, head hanging down.  “I guess I bottled it all up because...  because I was grateful for that.  Grateful that once you got Luna back, you didn’t just wad me up and throw me over your shoulder.  At least it meant you still had some use for me.”

Celestia closed her eyes in pain at the words.  It was spelled out as plain as if Twilight had written the words in the sky:  You used me.  And if someone knows they’ve been used, then they know that someday they’ll be thrown away.  How had she misstepped so badly?

By keeping ponies at a distance.  All her efforts to ‘give ponies their autonomy’, all the excuses about ‘being discreet’ and ‘subtly steering them’...  that was all she was doing.  Keeping ponies at a distance, so she, Celestia, couldn’t be hurt.  So long as they were just part of a plan, then they couldn’t hurt her.  Well, look how well that worked out for you, foal.  One pony smart enough to see through her deceptions, and now here they both were – hurt all the same.

“Twilight,” Celestia said, forcing herself to open her eyes and look at her student.  Twilight had sat down on the floor, her back to her, head down, tail tucked around her legs.  She turned her head and looked back at Celestia over her shoulder, her eyes filled with pain.  The way she always had back when she was a filly, when she was sad or her feelings had been hurt.  Oh, the memories.  “Twilight,” Celestia said, “I can’t excuse what I did, but at least I can explain.

“Yes, I did plan out... much of what happened to you and your friends.”  Twilight’s ears pricked at the ‘much.’  “But believe me, I did not orchestrate your lives, or trick you into doing what you did.

“Twilight, I have lived for thousands of years. I lay out plans on the order of centuries because I have to.  But I am far less in control of things – especially of individual pony lives – than you or anypony else believes.  And well and good that I am not.  It’s one of the few lessons I learned from Discord, back when we were young and he was still sane; that to try to control too closely, to plan too much, is to invite fickle fate to topple all your plans.  The greatest and most carefully-arranged plans can be knocked askew by the tiniest things – by the flap of a butterfly’s wings, or a chance roll of the dice, or by ponies simply being ponies.  I could tell you stories from my early years.  Like the one time that a plan three hundred years in the making went completely awry thanks to a tenpenny nail, five scrolls and a misplaced banana...

“But I’m getting off the subject.  Yes, I planned ahead for my sister’s return.  But you would be surprised at how vague that plan was.  I knew my sister would return in a thousand years, when the stars aligned; I also knew that the Elements of Harmony would – not could, would – stop her.  But I also knew that I could no longer bear them, because I had turned them, forced them, to act against my sister.  Both Luna’s fall and my using them to banish her, you see, had thrown them out of balance, and it was in their nature to seek balance.  Like marbles rolling towards the center of a bowl.

“I also knew that they would seek out new ponies to bear them... and that their Bearers would seek them out in return.”  Celestia shrugged.  “That is how they work.  You see, the Elements and the Bearers are two parts of a whole.  And the Bearers are, in their own way, often as extraordinary as the Elements themselves.  When it is time for them to select a new Bearer, they... radiate... their natures outward.  Pulling the chosen Bearers towards them, motivating them over their lives to turn and move in their direction, like a magnet pulling a compass needle.  And bringing out the Bearer’s unique gifts, the closer they come to their destinies.

“When Luna and I were selected, we were nothing extraordinary.  Well, save that we were the first ponies ever born with earth-pony parentage, unicorn horns, and pegasus wings.”  She smiled and fluttered her pinions briefly.  “Most chalked it up to a quirk of heritage and left it at that.  It was only as we grew older, and came closer to our destiny to find the Elements, that our extraordinary gifts in unicorn, earth-pony and pegasus magic began to surface.  And when we did find them... well!”  She smiled.  “Would it surprise you to know that it was decades after we defeated Discord before we were raising the Sun and Moon on our own?”

Twilight forgot herself in her curiosity.  “Really?”

Celestia nodded.  “Oh, we were crowned as royalty shortly after Discord’s fall.  But the Unicorn Archmages were still leading the unicorns in raising the Sun and Moon for a long time afterward.  Then we started noticing we needed fewer and fewer unicorns to help... until one day, my sister and I did the job alone.  My, wasn’t that a tumultuous day,” she said, smiling to herself.

“But like I was saying.  I knew that the Elements, once they had restored their inner balance, would draw the Bearers to them, and give them the power to defeat Nightmare Moon.  I did not know who, or what sort of ponies they would be, or when.  So I took the Elements, placed them in our abandoned castle, deliberately let the Everfree grow wild and engulf the castle to protect them from being scattered... and waited for the signs.”

“Signs?” Twilight asked.

Celestia chuckled.  “Like, for instance, a school-age filly with a magical surge powerful enough to take the roof off my school?”  Twilight blushed.  “Or a pegasus filly still in flight camp performing a sonic rainboom?  Or another who had the power to talk to any animal she met, when mere moments before she’d never seen a wild animal before in her life?  Then there’s your friend Rarity; as I understand it, she found a king’s ransom in gems from miles away.  And earth ponies are slower and more subtle to show their aptitudes, but haven’t you ever wondered at Applejack being able to run that enormous apple farm virtually single-hoofed?  And, well, Pinkie Pie...”

“– is Pinkie Pie,” Twilight finished with rueful amusement.

“Though granted, I didn’t know of the others at the time.  Which is probably for the best; mentoring the most likely candidate for the Element of Magic was enough of a hoof-full on its own.”  Celestia shook her head ruefully.  “Can you imagine me taking all six of you under my wing at the same time?”

“That was your plan?” Twilight said.  “To... to find all six of us and mentor us?”

“Exactly.” Celestia nodded.  “But I only ever found out about you.  Even though I saw the sonic rainboom, I thought it was a side effect of your magical surge.  And the others, well, my eyes and ears are not as far-reaching as all that.”  Celestia closed her eyes and shook her head.  “You have no idea how much of my plans to save us all from Nightmare Moon hinged on hope.  I had hoped to find the Bearers before the thousand years was up.  I had hoped to train and prepare them.

“When Applejack’s ancestors came to me looking for a claim to stake, I leapt at the opportunity to give them that plot of land.  I knew that the Bearers would eventually gravitate towards the Elements; I had hoped that starting a settlement close by the Everfree would give them a place to gravitate to, as they manifested.  And I hoped that mentoring you was the likeliest guarantee that I would find the others, too; you see, just as the Bearers gravitate towards the Elements, so they inevitably gravitate towards one another...”

“The connection of Friendship,” Twilight murmured.  “The bond friends share, even before they know each other.”

“Exactly.  But the dwindling years went by, and nothing really of note had happened in Ponyville.  And while I was still convinced that you were, at least, the inevitable Bearer of the Element of Magic, you had yet to make any friends – and seemed dead set against it.”  Celestia cocked an eyebrow at her.  “Perhaps I should have told you about the Elements, about being a Bearer – but I was afraid that if I told you, then it might... jinx it.  Send you haring off, trying to force the Elements and the Bearers to reveal themselves.  Trying to force friendships, rather than letting them guide you.

“When I sent you to Ponyville on that last day, I wasn’t executing some grand master plan.  I was taking a contingency.

“I knew my sister was returning, and empowered after ten centuries of imprisonment in her own Moon, she would easily defeat and imprison me.  I sent you to Ponyville thinking – hoping – that after Nightmare Moon ascended to the throne, you would take shelter there, in an obscure little town away from the Palace and its new Queen.  That eventually the other Bearers would join you there, and that some time in the future you would find the Elements and defeat Nightmare Moon.  I even had a scroll sent on a magical delay, telling you to hide in Ponyville, set to arrive in your hooves if the sun had not risen the next day.

“Imagine my astonishment when it did.

“I expected to be imprisoned in the Sun for years, decades.  I expected to return to an Equestria waking from a long, terrible nightmare under a ruler possessed by evil, and a long, hard road of rebuilding a nation half-destroyed, or worse.  But to be rescued, to have my sister not merely defeated but restored to her true self and her right mind – and all within the length of a single day...!” Celestia shook her head.

Twilight listened to everything Celestia said, fascinated.  “Why...?”  She couldn’t think of anything else to add to that one word.

“Don’t you see, Twilight?” Celestia said, thumping her hoof in one of the cushions and rolling her eyes heavenward.  “I was never in control of anypony’s fate, Twilight.  I never had any grand master plan, and I still don’t.  In the end, I’m playing it by ear, just like every other pony.  Hoping and praying and guessing and... and improvising.

“You and your friends were more extraordinary than I had expected; more than I was prepared to deal with.  So I made a choice that turned all my necessary little sins in the past into a single, terrible mistake.  I chose to keep on keeping the truth from you.  I kept it all close to the vest, I continued on the way I had – to tell you little to nothing, to throw harder and harder tests at you, while I tried to figure out what to make of you.  And in the course of things, I forgot you weren’t just a subject for me to test... you were my faithful student.  I understand that now.  I had plans for you.  I should have known all along that I could have my precious plans, or I could have you.  But not both.

“I deceived you.  I pushed you too hard, and left you in the dark about what I was doing.  I was wrong.  I am sorry.”  Her voice cracked.

Twilight was stunned.  Even the one time she’d seen Celestia cry, when she had been reunited with Luna, the Princess of the Sun had been dignified and in control.  This time, she wasn’t.  Her voice broke, her tears streaked.  For the first time Twilight Sparkle was seeing her former mentor – the great, wise, and foresighted leader of Equestria – as she was:  just another pony, completely lost at sea, unprepared for the future, but making the best plans she could... and realizing too late that she’d made some terrible mistakes.

She wanted more than anything to rush to Celestia’s side, bury her face in her rainbow mane, and beg to be reconciled with her.  But some tiny, selfish corner of her heart held out, demanded that she ask one last question.  She magically whisked a box of tissues over to the Co-regent of Equestria, who plucked a good half-dozen of them from the box and mopped her face with them.  “But that doesn’t explain – why did you keep giving us... giving us such dangerous assignments?  The dragon, Discord, the Crystal Empire...?  Why did you pin so much on us?”

Celestia sniffled through her wad of tissues and laughed.  “Because, my dear Twilight,” she said, “you had gotten into something of a habit of exceeding my expectations.”

Then Twilight did run across the room and bury her face in Celestia’s mane.

Several moments of crying and heartfelt, half-stammered pleas for forgiveness passed.  There was a muffled thump at the door, startling them both. Twilight heard a loud, familiar-sounding snuffle on the other side.  “Spike?”

The door swung open, revealing a small purple dragonling blubbering into a handkerchief.  “Spike? What are you crying about?” Twilight said.

Spike looked at her.  “I don’t knooowwwwww!” he bawled.  He blew his nose with an enormous honk.  Twilight and Celestia could only laugh.  Magic enveloped the dragonling and carried him across the room to them, where they enveloped him in a hug.

—— —— — —— — —— ——

Some time later, after they’d laughed and cried themselves out a little and things were calm, Spike raised the question.  “So, are you her student again, now?”

Twilight bit her lip and shared a look with Celestia, then sighed.  “No, Spike,” Twilight said.  “I’m still through with my studies with the Princess.”  At Spike’s disbelieving expression, Twilight laughed.  “Spike, I was ready to graduate years ago.  All my classmates from the School for Gifted Unicorns got their degrees...  I’ve got half a dozen theses already set aside.  Did you think I was going to spend the rest of my life as a student?”

“Kinda,” Spike admitted.

“I have to concur,” Celestia said.  “Things between us are mended, but they’ve still changed.  It... could never go back to how it was.  And knowing what she does now about how the Elements work – I think she’s grown past the phase where I can test or teach her without tipping my hoof.”

“So no more lobbing Fabergé eggs for her to catch?” Spike said dryly.

Celestia grinned and, to Spike and Twilight’s surprise, turned red.  “You never forgot or forgave that, did you, Spike?” she said.  She rubbed her upper lip with her hoof.  “Would you believe I thought it was a leftover Hearthwarming-tree decoration?”

Spike’s eyes went round.  “No way.”

Celestia chuckled in chagrin, facehooving.  “I saw it sitting there and thought, ‘Oh, one of the servants must have missed it.  Light, fragile and cheap – perfect!’  And so...” she shrugged.

Twilight’s hooves were pressed to her mouth in horrified glee.  “Oh my gosh.  When did you realize...?”

“About a split second after you caught it... and a split second before you shrieked out what it was.  I don’t know how I kept my composure.  I had about four different kinds of heart attack after you left the room...”

Spike rolled on the floor, laughing uproariously.  Twilight waited until his hoots died down.  “Well, in the current mood of enlightening revelations and openness,” she said, only a little sarcastically.  “Princess...  I do have one very important question.”

“Of course,” Celestia said.

“...What were you planning for me?”

Celestia blinked.  “How do you mean?”

Twilight scowled.  “Princess...”

“I know, I know, Twilight,” Celestia said hastily.  “But... well, that’s rather complicated.  What exactly have you been hearing?”

“All sorts of rumors, most of my life,” Twilight said in annoyance.  “That you were grooming me to be the new Chancellor, or to be the next Archmage, or the Headmistress of the Unicorn Academy, or even to be royalty...”

“I’d heard that you were going to make her into an alicorn,” Spike volunteered.  “And crown her as the new Princess of Equestria.”

“What?  Hah HAH!” Celestia whooped.  “Oh, I’m sorry, Twilight, I didn’t mean to make it sound like... but seriously.  No.”  She shook her head vehemently.  “I’d never do that to you.”

“The alicorn thingy or the princess thingy?” Twilight asked suspiciously.

“Well, I have no clue how to turn a unicorn into an alicorn,” Celestia clarified.  “And foisting a country off on you to rule?  Oh, I’d never be that cruel.  You’re a scholar and a learner, Twilight, and quite the troubleshooter.  But you’re not a politician or a ruler.  You’d be taken away from your studies and your books, forever busy trying to run a government.  You’d be absolutely miserable.”

“Are you sure?” Spike said.

“Spike...”

“Yes, quite sure,” Celestia told him.  “You know how Twilight gets when simple plans get derailed?”

“Do I ever,” Spike said.

“Well, running a government is like being in the middle of a thousand carefully arranged plans – all of them on the verge of coming apart at the seams, every single minute of the day.”

“...yikes.”

“So, no, I never was going to lob the crown at her.”  Celestia dimpled.  “The Fabergé egg was more than enough.”

“So no new alicorn princess, huh?” Spike said.  He snapped his fingers.  “Darn, I lost money.”

“Spike...!” Twilight said angrily.

Celestia laughed.  “Twilight, I’ll tell you this straight.  I’ve prepared for a lot of possibilities.  But I’ve never set a course.  What you become is your own choice, and always has been.”

Twilight smiled happily.  “Thank you, Princess.”

Celestia sobered.  “Though... as for that... you becoming an alicorn, or a Princess... perhaps I – perhaps we should make arrangements.  Just in case.”  At Twilight’s befuddled look, she said “Honestly, Twilight, haven’t you been listening?  I don’t have a single master plan.  I have preparations.  I keep my options open, but I make ready for all the options I foresee.  And as to you becoming a Princess, or becoming an alicorn, either one is a possibility.

“Those selected by the Elements have always been extraordinary ponies, and they only become more extraordinary as time goes by.  You are already quite possibly the most powerful unicorn of this generation, and it looks like your power will only continue to grow.  And power gravitates to power.  It may be that someday, with the passage of time, through no fault of your own, you will find yourself seated on a throne simply because ponies will keep turning to you for answers to their problems, until finally...”  She shrugged her wings.

“And as to becoming an alicorn... please try to understand.  Luna and I were merely two fillies with what seemed an odd quirk of form when we were born.  Whether we became what we are because of the Elements selecting us, or the Elements selected us because of what we were going to become – I could not say.  But... you and your friends could very well be destined to become alicorns as well.  Or perhaps even something which the world has not even heard of yet.”

“That’s... a lot to take in at once,” Twilight said weakly.

Celestia smiled.  “I think either way, those are concerns for a long ways in the future,” she said.  She nuzzled Twilight.  “But for now, I think we should speak to – ”

There was a knock at the front door of the library.  “I’ll get it,” Spike said, hopping to his feet.  He was back in a few moments, the rest of the Bearers trailing hesitantly behind him.

“Ah, just the ponies we were wanting to see,” Celestia said.

“Come sit with us,” Twilight urged.

The others ambled into the room.  “So... does this mean you two all patched things up?” Applejack asked carefully.

Twilight nodded.  “Yes, we’ve worked things out.  Well,” she said, giving Celestia a glance, “we’re taking things one day at a time.  But yes.”

“So are you her student again?” Rainbow Dash asked, hovering overhead.

“No.  I’m still going to be... taking a different direction,” Twilight said.

“Aww, man,” Dash groused.  “I lost money.”

“Dash...!”

“Pay up, dear,” Rarity said, holding out her hoof.  Grumbling, Dash landed and dropped several bits into Rarity’s outstretched hoof, while Twilight gaped at them.  “Come on, you lot, let’s be up front...” Rarity said.  There was some grumbling and smirks among the others as bits exchanged hooves and, in one case, dragon claws.  It seemed to be an even divide between the winners and losers.

“Aww, poopers.  That was my bubblegum money for this week...”

“I’m sorry, Pinkie, but Angel Bunny was certain she’d never go back...”

“Ahyep, a bet’s a bet.  Shoulda seen that one a-comin’...”

“Argh!  You guys bet on whether I’d – augh!” Twilight shouted in exasperation.  “Oh forget it!”  After she composed herself (and Celestia stopped tittering) she addressed her friends.  “The Princess and I have been talking for a while, and there are a few things that I’ve learned...”

“Oooh!” Pinkie Pie hopped about.  “Did she finally tell you her super-duper ultra-special secret plans for you and how she was gonna turn you into a hippocampus princess and make you Queen of the Sea Ponies?”

Twilight (and for that matter Celestia) stared.  “What?  Pinkie Pie – no, she’s not making me a princess or turning me into a – into anything.  In fact she’s pretty much told me that my future is my own decision.”

Groans went up all around.  “Okay, Pinkie,” Rainbow Dash said, “what was the spread on that?”

From seemingly nowhere Pinkie Pie pulled out a blackboard with a complicated betting table on it.  “Okay, Rarity had fifty down for her becoming a princess; Applejack had twenty – and a jug of Sweet Apple Acres cider – on her becoming the royal librarian; I bet a tray of cupcakes on the Sea Pony thing – what a bust! – and Fluttershy had fifteen on her being made ‘Alicorn of Nature’ –”

“You would have made a very nice Alicorn of Nature, Twilight,” Fluttershy said consolingly.

“– and Rainbow Dash had money on ‘princess’, ‘alicorn’, and ‘something awesome, like stars or something’... we got bets from Lyra, Bon Bon, Mr. and Mrs. Cake, Time Turner, all wagering some combination of ‘alicorn’, ‘princess’, ‘archchancellor’, ‘archmage’...  That one weird creepy pony who smells like Cheetos who said ‘royal consort.’  Ewww...  Hmm, looks like Big Macintosh and Applebloom are splitting the pot.  She said ‘herself’, and Big Macintosh said ‘Nuthin.’”

“Wait, he said ‘Nuthin,’ or he said nuthin’?” Applejack said.

“Actually, he said ‘Eenope.’  It’s the same difference with him.”

Twilight’s eye twitched.  She waved a hoof in melodramatic defeat.  “Princess Celestia, allow me to introduce my friends.”  She faceplanted in a cushion.

It took a minute for the laughter to subside.  When it did, Twilight sat back up and looked at her friends.  “As I was saying,” she said.  “Princess Celestia has been telling me some things I hadn’t known before.  About the Elements, and about us, as the Bearers.  And I think if I was overdue to hear them, then so were you all.”

She told them about the Elements, and their role in the founding of Ponyville, and in each of their lives, and of all the possibilities yet to come.  And her friends’ eyes grew wide as they listened...

{1} They get better.