Chapter Ten: Fearless

Shadows claimed her, the chill silence of the tower echoing in her ears. The inside of the tower was vast, the ceiling too high for her hornlight to reach. An emaciated rodent skittered away from her, beady white eyes searching blindly in the darkness. Her hoofbeats echoed loudly on the stonework, despite her measured pace. The place was a ruin. Ivy encroached everywhere, spreading over the walls, which were pitted and scarred from the passage of time. A rotten mural to the moon princess hung damply on the wall closest to her, its edges tattered. Her hair spread out across the ground around her, and she cut power to the illusion. It was useless here.

“Princess Luna?” She called quietly, with more confidence than she felt.

A faint rustling of feathers, high above her. She craned her neck up, peering into the gloom.

“So, little pony... wherefore seekest thou the lady of the moon?” Twilight twitched, then whirled, coming almost nose to nose with a hauntingly familiar mare. For a moment, she simply stared into those turquoise eyes, transfixed. Then, with deliberate slowness, she took a step back and bowed low enough that her horn grazed the floor, an exaggerated form of respect generally only used in high court proceedings in this age. Luna spoke again, her voice cold and measured.
“Thou hast studied the old ways well, voidling. We ask thee again... wherefore seekest thou our attention?”

Can I reply truthfully? Would you accept the answer ‘because Celestia willed it’?

A cool, feminine voice broke her concentration. “I am the one who is known as Terminus. We have sought you to... introduce ourselves, as the presence of Twilight and myself may be of note to one such as you. The unicorn before you is Twilight Sparkle - pactbearer, and student of Celestia herself.”

Terminus! That’s not what Cel-! Oh. That’s rather clever, actually.

A polite cough. “Rise, Twilight Sparkle, pact-bearer of Terminus!”

Twilight twitched, Luna’s voice suddenly becoming deafeningly loud. She gingerly raised her head, hearing heavy cloth come to rest on stone. Luna cast aside a pair of heavy black curtains and rested her forehooves against an empty window frame. Beyond, Canterlot’s evening life was in full swing, the great golden spires lit by weather-lamps and the faint blue glow of lightning conduits. “We apologise, ‘tis an old tradition. However, we wish to know. There is much that we do not understand. Our sister was positively insistent that we grant thee audience,” Luna’s luminous green eyes turned back to her, steely and bleak. “We see thee... thou art no different in body to thy peers. Thou holdest only the barest spark of true divinity, through a bond foolishly accepted. What hast thou done to bring about such change in our sister?”

Twilight swallowed and approached the window, a sensation of heavy, almost smothering warmth settling over her as she neared Luna. True divinity. Is that what I face? Is that what awaits me?

“I don’t know, your highness. She’s the same mentor I’ve known since I was a filly,” she said, making sure to look Luna directly in the eye. A faint raising of one immaculate black eyebrow.

“We are not thy princess, Twilight Sparkle, understand this. We are Luna, and we have no obligation unto thee. What of thy pactmate?”

A quiet noise of pure mirth from beside her ear. “I too am unsure. I have had barely two days to observe the princess Celestia. Certainly not enough time to make any conclusions on her character. If you would allow a question in return?”

Luna nodded curtly, taking a moment to glance at the crescent moon that hung high above them. Something passed, almost imperceptibly for her, the magic crossing her skin like the faintest breeze.

“What possible reason would one such as yourself have to call this crumbling tower her domain?”

A stallion dove from the rooftop of a tavern, spreading his wings to swoop just inches from the ground to the raucous cheering of a small crowd. Luna made a sweeping gesture over the cityscape with one hoof, but lingered slightly on the spectacle.

“This creation of ours, this city of Canterlot... wouldst thou believe it a mere two millennia old? Ashes in the wind, Twilight Sparkle. Forgettable. It does not matter if thou listenest, little pony. ‘tis all frightfully transitory. In the end, we will remain.”

Graves filled her vision, the city turning to rust and ruin before her eyes. A horned skull, bearing a single wisp of elaborately styled purple hair. “Why couldn’t you save me, darling?” Twilight gasped quietly, turning away from the window, her hooves shaking. Her stomach rebelled, and she tasted bile.

“Deep breaths, dear one.” She complied, taking a gasping lungful of air, and holding it. The panic gradually subsided, and it took her a moment to notice Luna’s curious gaze.

“Thou carest for them. Why?”

Twilight grit her teeth. The question was asked with such quiet disdain that her first instinct was to snap at Luna, regardless of the circumstances. She saw the power of friendship firsthand! How... how could she ask such a thing?

“They’re my friends. I care for them, because their love makes life worth living. They empower me to reach new heights, as I empower them.”

She spoke with quiet conviction, thinking of Pinkie’s wide smile, of Applejack’s simple patience, and of Dash’s brash humour. Luna shrugged, staring into the distance, seemingly unmoved by this. I promise...

“And thou wouldst save them? Keep them with thee, down the ages?” Luna asked quietly, barely above a whisper.

“Yes.” There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation as Twilight stomped one hoof for emphasis. Luna’s almost perfect features betrayed a deep weariness, her eyes glazing with remembered sorrow. Twilight blinked, and the alicorn’s face was once again relaxed and without emotion. Did I imagine...?

“And what of other ponies? If thou couldst make thy associates immortal... wouldst thou offer others such a chance?”

Twilight took a moment to consider, her eyes roving over the tavern party far below them.

“I would, yes.”

She said this more hesitantly, her mind still ticking over the details. How many? How many would I save? That would depend on the requirements of such a treatment... on the ponies... who am I to judge their worth?

“And what of the other races? Wouldst thou walk unto the gates of Asgard, to peddle immortality among the gryphons?” Luna gently probed, making a small beckoning gesture with one hoof. Twilight brought a hoof to her chin, her mane growing increasingly agitated as the urge to pace became difficult to deny. It sent gentle feelers over the flagstones, seeking purchase, but finding little in the crumbling ruin. Not enough time, Terminus.

“On the contrary, dear one. One might say we have all the time in the world. Is that not so, Lady of the Moon?”

Luna cocked her head, eyes turning skyward. “Yes... and no. Will thy associates wait for thee, as those closest to them begin to wither? Thou wouldst need to be selfish, to pick and choose, if thy plan is to find any purchase. We find it curious indeed... what makes these ponies worth anything at all, to thee? What makes them different, beyond thine own recognition?”

“They... they...” She thought of the other ponies she had seen around Ponyville. Lyra and Bon-Bon, always together. That shy brown stallion and his mailmare friend. Time Turner?It might have been the correct name, but Twilight didn’t know him. Derpy wouldn’t stop talking about how nice he was... maybe that’s it? Everyone has friends... and mine aren’t anything special. She opened her mouth, but Terminus broke the silence first, the disembodied voice quiet yet oddly forceful.

“Patterns, Lady Luna. The complexity displayed by the interactions between ponies, particularly those who were previously involved with the--” a slight pause, and Twilight felt a curious sense of being scrutinized, and a sharp, cold tingling in her forehead, “-Elements of Harmony, is something that should not be so easily dismissed.”

Luna paused, standing absolutely still for precisely three seconds. “There may be truth to that,” she eventually conceded. Her sea-green eyes pierced Twilight. Again, Twilight felt the a similar sense of scrutiny, however this was tinged with a warm sensation, like a soft blanket fresh from the fire. “Yes, we see it now. The link thou holdest to the Element of Magic is dormant, yet ‘tis an intricate work indeed. The branching pattern...”

Twilight blinked, her eyes growing wide. So the link to the Element is a physical bond after all? That would mean the others... and a branching layout? That would imply some form of interlinkage, but with what? The other elements? After all, they’re useless by themselves- She paused, then amended. -as far as we know. That thought jolted her from her contemplations, and she looked up to see the tattered mural she had passed on the way in. When did I start pacing?

“Twenty-four seconds ago, dear one. Muttering to yourself quite frantically all the while.”

She turned to Luna, her face growing warm and a heavy feeling settling in her stomach. “I-”

“We did not wish to disturb thee. While we were capable of such deductions without ritualisation, we understand that thou must take time to wrangle with a conundrum, yes? We are nothing if not patient, Twilight Sparkle.”

Twilight grinned sheepishly, flicking a wriggling curl of black mane out of her eyes. “Than-”

Luna gave her a small smile. “And ponies are nothing if not slow.”

Wait, what? “Hey!” Twilight shouted indignantly, glaring half heartedly at the alicorn.

Luna shrugged and returned to her stargazing. “Words said in jest, Twilight Sparkle, no matter the truth they may hold.”

Twilight examined that, her mind inexorably conjuring an image of Rainbow Dash, fresh from a ‘still pretty awesome landing’, and eager to try again regardless of the risk of concussions or worse. Well, yes, I suppose some ponies are a bit slow, sometimes. Sun! That mare’s head must be full of rocks, the number of crashes it’s survived! The simple confidence Dash held for herself and her friends was one of the aspects Twilight found she cherished most about her. After all, it made the mare’s stubborn refusal to read anything other than adventure novels more bearable. “You might be onto something there,” She said, grinning almost in spite of herself.

The three settled into a somewhat comfortable silence, Twilight and Luna watching Canterlot slowly stir. Luna was finally the one to fill the gap.

“Thou art a quiet one, void spirit. What goes in the great beyond?”

At this, Twilight’s eyes stung, her hooves shaking of their own accord. Her heart ached, and the urge to throw herself down and weep became almost unbearable. Though it hurt her, there was still a definite sense that the pain wasn’t hers; an outside presence. Then it was gone, as suddenly as it had arrived, replaced with a numb emptiness.

Terminus...

“It survives, Lady Luna. I am much as adrift as you, for changes so sudden do not treat my kind well. My master’s kingdom is greatly diminished since my last awakening, but we must all find our place if we are to survive. In that regard, I am most grateful for the company of this slow pony.”

Twilight winced at the dry, acerbic tones, casting a worried glance at Luna, who seemed somewhat taken aback.

“Thou takest offence to our words?” Luna shot Twilight a quizzical look, which she took to be directed at Terminus.

“Indeed. I would not go so far as to denigrate those who look to me for leadership.”

Scratching her neck, Twilight bowed her head, surreptitiously looking for something to steer the conversation into safer waters.

“We... understand. However, had these lightning devices, these trains, been made by the hooves of ponies, and not by the horn of my sister, we wouldst not denigrate them for their simple nature.”

Terminus’ heated reply went unheard by Twilight as she pondered this new information. She was vaguely aware of raised tones, but she was accustomed to tuning out noise. ‘Made by the hooves of ponies’... She really believes that... why would she assume that we couldn’t innovate?

“-Furthermore, thou makest serious assumptions on the creative capacity of our creations, Terminus. Prithee, do continue this line of reasoning,” Luna grinned, her eyes bright, her tone measured but challenging. Twilight blinked, snapping out of her deliberations. She blearily realised that Luna looked more alive now than she had ever seen her.

“T-the... The steam train was designed by Steam Bolt, the Marquis of Trottingham, forty years before your return,” Twilight hesitantly cut in.

Luna raised one eyebrow, “And thy source for this information? Thou couldst not be more than a score of years, so how wouldst thou know the truth of the matter?”

Twilight bit her lip, shuffling awkwardly. A cool wind, blowing through countless cracks in the tower walls, nipped at her hooves. “Um... page two-six-two, chapter seven of Lightning Flicker’s The Metal Age.”

“Thy memory is quite efficient, Twilight Sparkle, but the hoof of our sister is long. She was well known in ages past to act as a... steward, of sorts.” Luna snorted, looking away, her eyes growing hard. “We do not deny that it is possible for thee to be correct, however we find it much more likely for our sister to be the true inventor of these devices. If... if thou couldst bring us evidence of something truly innovative, undeniably made at the hoof of a pony, then thy case may be more compelling to us.”

Undeniably... well, the princesses are older than anypony remembers... could she be right? She’s in the best position to know Celestia’s past deeds. Twilight’s thoughts spiraled wildly as she turned the information over in her head, checking it against her remembered sources.History had always been an esoteric subject among ponies, scorned by the pegasi in favour of more progressive sciences. Much of the so-called ‘histories’ of ponykind were actually conglomerations of folk-tales, legend, and half-remembered facts by dubious witnesses, to Twilight’s chagrin. Even the history of Nightmare Moon, Luna herself, Twilight had found in book of prophetic tales. And prophecy is the least reliable of all magics.

Twilights ears wilted, and she looked out across the city. It felt almost as if she had been cast adrift, the possibilities ahead terrible to contemplate. I have to know. I’ll... I’ll ask Princess Celestia. She wouldn’t lie to me.

“We understand. Thou... dost not wish to believe such things. ‘Tis natural.” Luna said, more gently than before. Twilight shook her head sharply.

“No. I’ll work out the truth. There must be some things ponies have made for themselves. The Princ- I mean, Princess Celestia can’t have been everywhere.” She snorted. “That would be absurd.”

Luna regarded her stoically, then slowly inclined her head. “Very well, Twilight Sparkle. Terminus, if thou wouldst be willing to share thy observations upon ponykind at a later date, we would be amenable to hear of thy philosophy further. However, we believe we have seen enough for one moonrise.”

Twilight’s eyes widened. That’s it? She stretched slightly, her body protesting as she shook out the stiffness in her legs.

“That would be perfectly agreeable, Lady Luna. I am afraid, however, that we cannot be separated, so if you wish to speak to me, you will also speak with Twilight.”

A slight hesitation. “Ah... yes, of course, Terminus,” Luna said quietly.

Twilight turned toward the door; Luna’s dismissal was obvious, even to her. “I... I guess I’ll take my leave then, Lady Luna. Shall I send anypony up? I-I know they must be serving supper soon.”

Luna tossed her head proudly, her mane billowing in an ethereal wind.

“That won’t be necessary. We do not require sustenance.”
Somewhat awkwardly, Twilight backed out of the chamber, the door closing with a very final thud.

~~~

The hustle and bustle of the morning court filled Twilight’s ears, petitioners jostling to and fro under the gimlet eye of the royal guard. She yawned, rubbing her eyes for what felt like the fiftieth time that morning. Maintaining her actuality was tiring, since doing so required her to split her thoughts into two parallel streams, such that one could be used to maintain the image. The wooden benches provided for courtiers were packed with foppish ponies, many of whom seemed bored out of their skulls. The rhythmic clanking of courier chutes and the quiet chattering of petitioners made for a migraine-inducing environment. Celestia, Princess of the Sun, sat upon a wooden and marble throne, smiling gently down at her subjects, but Twilight could see that the smile never reached her eyes. A whisper, though soft and feminine, cut through the noise like a knife, drilling its way into her consciousness.

“So this is the court our princess spoke of? I must admit, I had expected something less jaunty.”

It’s been this way for... five hundred years, at least, if court records are to be believed. At least this way the princess seems accessible to the ponies.

“Indeed. Still, it seems odd for a Being of her stature to subject itself to this... mass.”

Twilight rubbed her chin, pulling her legs in as a colt scurried past her, a badge proclaiming him ‘Secretary of the Glassblowers’ Guild’.

I... I suppose I never really thought about it. She was always just a mare, to me. My hero. You know, I wanted to be just like her when I grew up. To see her like this... a Being. A deity, of sorts...

Her mouth formed a small moue of displeasure as she watched Celestia handle a dispute between a representative of the merchants’ guild and a freelance wheelwright. Just why would she do this, day-in day-out, to help us? Surely, with her power, she could move mountains.

“She could certainly clear up the Appaloosan grain shortage in mere seconds, dear one. As to why she does not? We would have to ask her.”

At that moment, Celestia looked up from the bickering pair to meet her gaze, barriers falling instantly between them as the princess allowed her pain to pour forth. Her actuality faltered as she fought the urge to run to Celestia. And then it was gone, replaced once more by that vacant, kind mask she afforded all her subjects. The shivering edges of Twilight’s mane drew a few curious glances, and she stilled herself, remembering the soothing sound of water on stone. Casting her mind back to the night previous, she ran a hoof through her inanimate fringe, relishing that small return to normality.

Terminus, telling her about our meeting with Luna is going to break her heart.

There was a pause, and for a moment her inner metronome filled her ears, the bustle of the court parting around her like waves upon a stubborn rock.

“Perhaps. She may not like that which we have to tell, but Lady Luna did make suggestions of a second meeting. That indicates some progress, at least, dear one. She may not be accustomed to dealing with such issues on an entirely mortal scale. Be patient. We have a chance.”

‘Entirely mortal scale’... so we might be waiting a hundred years on, for her to agree to see us again!?

“Unlikely. She did not appear to be quite so… out of touch with her subjects. Merely disenchanted, and lonely,” Terminus suggested, after a moment of thought, “Of course, it is possible that I am mistaken as to her nature. Study of the lady Luna was, after all, limited to a window of just over two hours.”

Twilight tapped her hoof impatiently as morning court slowly wound down. The courtiers appeared almost relieved to step out into the baking midsummer heat, away from the stifling confines of the courtroom.

Celestia met her eyes, a small toss of her head gesturing to the guarded door at the side of the room that led into the palace proper. Twilight nodded minutely, and was gone, seamlessly rippling into existence on the other side of the door in time for Celestia to saunter through. It seemed so nonchalant that she almost expected Celestia to jolt with surprise at her sudden appearance. Of course, she didn’t, bending down to nuzzle Twilight’s cheek. The unicorn shivered, her face growing warm.

And now you greet me so warmly, as if nothing happened yesterday afternoon. You… you kiss me, and run away, and now you nuzzle me as if you hadn’t fled the sight of me…

It hurt horribly, and filled her with confusion, but at the same time she couldn’t bring herself to be angry with Celestia. After all, she’s hurting worst of all, except perhaps Lady Luna… It was strange to feel as if she were taking advantage of a mare so much older than her. She perked up as Celestia spoke gently in her ear.

“Walk with me, Twilight. We will go to the tea rooms, I think. It’s far too hot for a walk in the gardens.”

Somehow, Princess, I doubt that would be a problem for you.

The palace tea rooms were surprisingly cosy, with large windows overlooking the gardens, and beyond that, a stunning view of the landscape below. Plush rugs, and padded benches allowed anypony so lucky as to visit the rooms an opportunity to relax, and perhaps forget the bustle of the city for a few scant hours. Unfortunately, the sun’s glare and low lying clouds over Ponyville obscured the landscape beyond. Settling into one of the padded benches, Twilight let out a sigh as Celestia slid onto the bench next to her, tantalisingly close.

“Is something wrong?” Celestia asked, peering at her curiously.

Yes and no, Princess. Are we capable of true innovation? Or just modifying designs of yours? Can I trust Lady Luna’s words? Can I… can I just lay here with you?

“Can I… let my hair down in here? Please?” she mumbled, ducking her head to avoid Celestia’s gaze.

“Of course, Twilight. I will have to bar the room to servants, but other methods of procuring tea can be arranged.” She could hear Celestia’s smile, and looked up into those beautiful pink eyes. The princess’s warm smile, and the way that warmth reflected in her eyes when she looked at Twilight, made Twilight’s body tingle all over. It was maddening, but at the same time wonderful to see Celestia look at her like that again, and she revelled in it as much as she dared.

And just like that, a porcelain tea set appeared on the stout wooden table between them. Twilight stared. Not at the effortless conjuration that had just occurred next to them, but at Celestia herself. The mare hadn’t moved a muscle. There was no distinctive horn glow. Just a tea set, unobtrusively easing its way into existence. Twilight’s hair unfurled with a soft ‘floomph’, black tendrils reaching out, grasping and twining themselves around the legs of the table. Her vision wavered slightly, as the actuality faded, and she could feel the glimmering fires come alight in her eyes.

“You should probably shut your mouth. I hear it’s rude to stare,” Terminus whispered. Twilight gently pushed her jaw shut with one hoof, shaking her head a little as if to clear it.

“D-doesn’t that break Flicker’s law of thaumic radiance? That’s-” A delicate white hoof cut her off, tenderly cupping her cheek. Tingling warmth spread across her face, and she smiled blissfully, her eyelids drooping.

“If I allow my horn to glow, am I allowed to break the rules then?” Celestia’s horn glowed with a soft golden light, and a small, brown paper package appeared on the table next to the tea set. She gave Twilight a cheeky grin, and the unicorn suddenly found herself rather short of breath.

She’s so close...

Soft white lips, so inviting that she would just have to lean forward a little to reach them. As if sensing her thoughts, Celestia started, then gently withdrew, shooting Twilight a contrite, almost fearful look.

“I am sorry, Twilight. I should not have… I should not have done many things.” Her voice, thick with guilt and… longing?

Twilight’s thoughts floundered as she sought a way out of the situation. What do you want from me, Princess? Am I your plaything now? Again, she could almost feel the ghostly touch of those lips across her forehead, spreading blissful, numbing warmth through her. That wonderful feeling of being held so gently by against that soft white fur. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself. After all, it’s no crazier than the conversation I had last night… “I was panicking, yesterday. Out of my mind with worry. I-I nearly tore myself apart, for a little more time with which t-to help you. You brought me back… it was wonderful, the calmness I felt when I was with you. It felt… safe. Please, Celestia, is it selfish of me to want to feel that again?”

She stared at Celestia, trembling softly. Is this the part where I end up on the moon for hubris, Princess?

The princess hung her head, bringing it to rest against her crossed forelegs. Her voice came out hollow, utterly empty of emotion. “I can’t, Twilight. I can’t bear to see you drain yourself dry to fix a broken doll, married to her eternal throne. You are important. I don’t know why you are so important, but nevertheless you are. You matter, and that means I exist only to bring- to bring you misery.” Her voice cracked, and she coughed hoarsely, shaking her head.

Is… is that really how you see things, Princess? Twilight’s brow furrowed, and she felt Terminus stir uneasily within her. You’d sacrifice me out of fear of yourself? That’s not the mare who trained me. I have more faith in you than that. There was a faint scent to the air, honeysuckle and some other, indeterminate metal.

“Fear not, dear one. Do not think of her as your ruler in this, but a friend in need. Reject only your anxiety and we may yet survive this,” it whispered, at the edge of her hearing.

I’m glad you have such confidence in me.

“You know… a wise mare once stood in front of us and said ‘I learned how important it is to keep your hooves on the ground, and be there for your friends’. Do you remember, Celestia?”

“Of course,” came the Sun Princess’ ashen reply. “But…”

Twilight pulled herself up off the bench, effortlessly pushing the table aside with a tendril of magic. Celestia reared back away from her, and the sight of her almost broke Twilight’s heart. The mare looked hollow, glassy eyed with unshed tears. “But nothing. You are my princess, but… you are my friend first, and I’m not just going to let you push me away like that. Please, Celestia, don’t try to make that decision for me. I just w-want to make you happy.”

She reached out a hoof, gently placing it on Celestia’s chest. Her aura felt almost burning hot to the hoof, but she persevered, the discomfort finally giving way to the electric warmth that was quickly becoming familiar to her. The princess watched her carefully, saying nothing. Slowly, a white hoof grasped her own, holding it gently.

“I am sorry, Twilight. I hurt you just then, didn’t I?” Celestia said, staring straight ahead, out of the bay windows into the summer haze. Her grip on Twilight’s hoof tightened, becoming almost painful, but Twilight couldn’t bring herself to care at that moment.

“I-I… yes. Yes you did. A-and I hurt you, so that makes us even.”

That got a faint, slightly pained smile, and Celestia turned her head back to Twilight. “Wisdom from Applejack?”

“Um… Rainbow Dash, actually.”

“I do not deserve a… a friend like you, Twilight,” Celestia muttered, tears finally spilling down her cheeks. And with that, she pulled Twilight forward, embracing her tightly, almost desperately. Conflicted, the pain of their almost-separation still cutting into her, Twilight simply rested her head against Celestia’s smooth neck, trying to project with every fibre of her being that she wasn’t going anywhere. Terminus… it’s barely noon, but… can we just sleep here, for a bit? Her hooves shook, and she folded in Celestia’s hooves, adrenaline leaving her frail and exhausted.

In the end, they simply sat together, sharing Celestia’s oversized bench, the princess’s head resting on Twilight’s stomach as she lay on her back, stroking her hooves through that flowing many-hued mane. The tea lay forgotten, touched by neither pony.

~~~

Celestia stirred from her slumber to a quiet whistling sound. Blearily, she opened her eyes, which cleared immediately as she cast a quick cleansing spell with a thought. Afternoon. Late afternoon, from the feel of the sun’s location. Looking around for the source of the sound, her eyes settled on the recumbent form of Twilight Sparkle. The little unicorn was sound asleep, laying on her back, her nose whistling faintly as she breathed. A mane, black as the night sky, pooled around her, tendrils of hair forming intricate patterns on the bench padding, and where it spilled onto the plush rugs of the tea room. She smiled, softly, nuzzling Twilight’s ear. Whatever did we do to create this remarkable mare?

“I greet you, Lady Celestia,” a soft voice whispered. She straightened, schooling her features into a blank mask.

“Terminus. Good afternoon, honoured visitor. I had not realised that you were capable of operating while your host was unconscious.”

Twilight’s hooves flexed in her sleep, a completely purposeful, almost predatory motion that was so un-Twilight that Celestia froze for an instant. It can move her…

“It is not ideal, but we make do with what we have. I am sure you understand, Sun Princess.”

Celestia nodded slowly, then surveyed the room. Her hastily erected ward on the room’s entrances remained secure. Even if a pony were to look in from the gardens, they would see the room empty. As it should be. The clouds over Ponyville had since cleared, allowing a clear view of Smog's Lair, its high peak spreading a dark shadow over the Everfree forest near its base. Looking to the untouched tea set on the table, pushed clumsily to one side by Twilight’s magic, an idea formed.

“Would you care for some tea? We have not yet had a chance to speak alone.”

“I will indulge, yes,” Terminus whispered, and Twilight’s body slowly rolled over to sit beside her on the bench. It was disconcerting, even to Celestia, to see the slow, precise movements from Twilight’s sleeping body.

“Quite a recent one, actually. The plant was only cultivated fourty-six years ago, brought over from Zebrica by Equestria’s first steam ship. Of course, the plant is everywhere now,” she explained, conjuring boiling water for the tea as necessary, and within a few minutes, two steaming cups sat before them. Twilight sat motionless, eyes closed as if in meditation, but Celestia could feel the strange eyes of the bonded spirit staring through at her from beyond. Even her mane seemed oddly docile. She felt uncertain as to how to feel about this use of Twilight’s body, but to prevent it would be dangerous for the little unicorn, who might be cut off from the spark of divinity she and Terminus now shared.

The hot, bitter liquid was heavenly to Celestia, who sighed softly as she sipped her tea. “So, Terminus, I believe I have you to thank for Twilight’s recent... reanimation?”
Twilight’s horn extended a thin tendril of magic, mechanically grasping the teacup and raising it to her lips. The void spirit made a small sound which may have been surprise, then hurriedly placed the cup back down.

“I understand the reason to go to such lengths for this drink, now. As for the events in the garden, Twilight had as much of an influence on the outcome as I. It was a… team effort, you might say. What of your bodyguard? From what I have seen of that night through Twilight, he must have witnessed the event,” it said.

Celestia smiled at that, attempting to seem warm and reassuring, while inside she felt it might shatter like glass at any moment. “It is dealt with. Rock Steady understands the importance of royal confidentiality.”

“You would extract a geas from a mortal? Perhaps you are more than you appear, princess. I can respect that.”

A double edged compliment or a misplaced attempt at flattery? Why would you care? “It was not my first choice, but the sensitivity of the information made it a necessity. He is loyal, perhaps too loyal, but he is not without his weaknesses.” She paused, trying to find the right words before they simply spilled out of her. “You… spoke to my sister, did you not?”

A soft snort. “It would have been quite troublesome not to, Lady Celestia. To say that she is unhappy would be vastly understating the problem. I lack the power and foresight to help, I fear.”

Celestia ruffled her wings, her back itching just enough to bother her, before getting to her hooves. She stared into the sun, unflinching, as if beseeching it for answers. Her domain offered none, merely a pleasant thrumming of the power within. Turning back to the table, she sighed. “And what of Twilight? Was she able to help, at least?”

Purple shoulders rolled gently, as if stretching, which Celestia interpreted as Terminus’ clumsy attempt at a shrug. No, that would be Twilight waking up, I think. “That… it seems so, although it is too early to say. My sample of the Lady Luna’s behaviour is limited to the two hours we spent together the night previous. I do not understand it. Twilight is treated like a shamanic talisman, to ward off your ills, but she works, does she not? These artifacts I see in her memories… these Elements of Harmony, as you call them work that way. The magic of friendship, or similar.”

Celestia winced. A talisman? Twilight, is it so wrong that I ask your aid when I have no other to turn to? It was right, though. What had she expected of Twilight? Just to… somehow magically make Luna better? Yes. No. Maybe.

“You say it is too early… what then do you plan to do? My sister won’t consent to another visit,” she said, worries gnawing at her gut, “She made that all too clear…”

Terminus was silent for a moment, Twilight’s body sitting utterly still. “The lady Luna implied that she would be interested in meeting us again. Not much, but it could be considered a start.”

She lay back on the bench, mulling over the news. It was good. Almost better than she had hoped, in fact. “A start? Something about meeting you both must have interested her. It is more than a start… thank you. And thank you, Twilight. You can stop pretending to sleep now.”

~~~

The green-eyed fishbeast advanced upon her, wicked claws grasping for her neck as she nimbly dodged aside. For the great hero, Twerlit Spekkle, even this creature was no match. Lashing out with a vicious high kick, she planted a hoof squarely in its dangling ear-genitals, watching it scream as it slowly dissolved back into the black smog from whence it came. She was alone in the dank sewer once more. She pressed onward, feeling reality shift around her, the sewer fading into nonexistence as it spat her unceremoniously onto a padded bench, in a room bathed in the afternoon sun. At this distance, she could faintly see the tiny dragon wizards that powered the heavenly orb, and she took a moment for silent prayer to her draconian overlords. She was master of this dream, but her soul belonged to them, always and forever.

“-leep now.”

That voice! Princess Celestia sat beside her, delicately sipping a steaming cup of tea. Twerlit Spekkle felt no fear, knowing that this reality was but a dream, to be bent to her will. The indomitable Twerlit Spekkle was a Great Hero, capitalisation be damned, and she knew what she wanted. Cupping Celestia’s alabaster cheek with one hoof, she gently caressed the princess’ soft fur, feeling it heat into a fierce blush under her touch.

“Twi-”

That simply wouldn’t do. Princesses were for kissing. Every hero knew that! Swiftly, she cut off that protest with her lips, one hoof reaching up to play with the rainbow locks that framed Celestia’s beautiful face. Hot, needful kisses, her lips tingling with electrifying warmth as the princess slowly leaned backward, wrapping both hooves around Twerlit’s neck, until she was half on top of Celestia, her heart beating wildly as she settled against Celestia’s smooth white chest. She had never seen those beautiful pink eyes look quite so dazed, and the knowledge that it was her who made them that way filled her with warmth.

A breath, tasting of vanilla and some sort of exotic tea, drew her like a moth to a flame, and she leaned forward again, sucking gently on Celestia’s bottom lip eliciting a quiet groan from the blushing mare. Her mane coiled around them both, slick black hair tangling with Celestia’s own, pulling them together. She’d never felt a dream this realistic, and she concentrated as strongly as she dared, praying the dream wouldn’t shift away now that things were getting interesting. It was wonderful, almost euphoric, and she wanted more. ‘This realistic’... wait. The realisation stopped her cold, and she abruptly sat ramrod straight, ignoring Celestia’s disappointed whine. Her euphoria crystalised into icy fear, and she was dimly aware that she was shaking. Nononononono...

“I’m… I’m a-actually awake, aren’t I?”

“Have been for the past three minutes, dear one.”

I-I-I-I think I have to g-go now. Yes, with the going away.

Before Celestia could form a coherent word, Twilight exploded into a cloud of purple sparks.

~~~

In the silent tea room, Celestia’s crown hit the edge of the bench with a clink as she cast it aside. Her lips still felt gloriously numb, and she absently licked them, trying to recapture the sensation of Twilight’s icy mouth over hers. She let out a breath she had been holding, and just lay there, spread-eagled on the bench, dead to the world.

Well then…

Author's Note

God damn, I had the worst case of writer's block while trying to get this out. Luna is an absolute pain in the butt, as is any scene where Terminus speaks to someone other that Twilight. Proof-read by the lovely MidnightDancer and also that pretty cool guy, La Barata. Now to go walk off my caffeine overdose.