Lesson One

Twilight Sparkle was confused.

It wasn’t the rain that befuddled her; that had been scheduled for over a week now. The setting wasn’t puzzling; the courtyard looked quite plain, with the exception of an occasional statue or bush. And, if she was honest, the notion that somebody would enjoy the rain so much as to run outside and dance in it wasn’t out of the question.

No, it was the fact that today, this very silly person just so happened to be Princess Celestia.

Twilight leaned forward on her hand to the point that her nose almost touched the foggy window. As the rain pattered down against the building, she stared and wondered. Wondered why she’d never seen the almost always composed princess do this before, wondered why the smile on her face was so wide, and how it looked so natural. Lastly, where did she learn to dance like that?

Celestia swung her arms and legs about, tracing delicate patterns through the air and across the grass, giggling as she glided across the courtyard. Twilight gaped at the grace with which Celestia moved, a poise that seemed to contradict the ridiculous, carefree act. Her hair flowed through the air unhindered and her light brown skin glistened with moisture. The rain soaked through her fine white dress, dragging it across the ground behind her twirling body. The v-neck sagged and dripped, and the sleeves drooped and were flung about sloppily with each motion of Celestia’s slender arms.

That grin, though... that absurd grin! Twilight pressed her hands against the sides of her head. Why is she wearing that silly grin? Did the princess hold some secret? Did the rain actually tickle her? Twilight had nearly thrown open the window and to questioned her, just to figure out why she was being so, well, daffy!

Summoning a quill and notebook from across the room, she began furiously scribbling down notes.

Shows little concern for weather schedule. Perhaps she hasn’t had the chance to dance for a while? Maybe has some free time?

Didn’t seem to prepare properly for an excursion. Possible, even likely, that Celestia did not even know weather schedule. Investigate possible slacking on attendants’ parts.

Dance movements seem practiced. Is she giving someone else a lesson? Twilight paused, searching the rest of the courtyard for other watching eyes, but found none. Does not appear so. Thank goodn—

Catching herself, Twilight went back and scratched out the last sentence. Why would I write that down? She’s not myprincess. She doesn’t teach me exclusively,thought Twilight. She shook her head and resumed.

Doesn’t seem to stick to a particular style. Based on my education in such things, I would not call this a standard dancing pattern. Her arms do not swivel in synchronous movements with her legs.A partner would be hard-pressed to keep her footing. Future dance endeavours with princess unfeasible without further research and practice. Practicing for the ball later this week?

Twilight levitated a checklist over, about to scribble down an addition before stopping herself. This wasn’t about learning to dance with the princess, and besides, Twilight had no intention of dancing at the ball herself. She just wanted to sit next to Celestia and talk; her chances were much better than they were at the gala. Frowning, she tossed the checklist aside before turning back to her notes.

Her body seems to accentuate her movements. Would require a well-fit, thin, andtall stature to replicate with any accuracy. Twilight looked to her own curvy hips and stalky arms, then sighed. While not without some appeal, her assets were nothing compared to the princess’s. This researcher is not a likely candidate.

The reality didn’t stop her from wanting, though. Wanting to be swept up in those tender arms, guided through an effortlessly smooth dance, stepping in and out of those slender, well-defined legs, returning a smile from that—

The notebook hit the floor with a thud, getting a jolt from Twilight. She scooped it up quickly, blushing at her daydream’s ability to loosen her grip. These were not appropriate thoughts to be thinking about the Sun Princess of Equestria! Glancing out the window, she looked to see if Celestia had noticed the disturbance, but she was still dancing, oblivious to the world. Twilight breathed a sigh of relief, then scrambled back to her desk and started rummaging around her papers.

That was quite enough ofthat pointless exercise. There was work to be done.

Twilight and Celestia both looked down at the pile of splinters. Twilight was scratching her neck, while Celestia had a hand at her chin and an eyebrow raised at her student.

“The structure matrix really looked like it would hold that time,” said Twilight.

“I’m not seeing any resemblance to a chair, here, Twilight.”

Bending over, Twilight scooped a red magic crystal from what was left of the plain, wooden chair. At least the crystal came out alright. “I’ll just have to try again.”

Celestia put a hand on her shoulder. “As much as I understand that these things take time, you’ve been here over a week, working around the clock, with little progress. You may want to consider taking a break soon, spending some time back in Ponyville.”

Twilight shook her head. “No. I feel like I’m so close! I can’t give up on this, not now, not after just a week!”

“And if I insist on your taking a break?” Celestia’s tone turned blunt.

“Please, Princess, just give me another few days! If I don’t have something concrete by then, I swear I’ll stop for a little while.”

Twilight clapped her hands together in a pleading gesture, giving her teacher the best puppy-dog eyes she could muster. Under the princess’s iron gaze, she nearly crumpled. After a moment, however, Celestia softened up and ruffled Twilight’s hair.

“I have a hard time saying no to you sometimes, Twilight. Alright, you can have your time, but you should at least stop for today. It’s about suppertime.”

Pumping her fists, Twilight hopped up and down and squealed, “Yes!”

“Now, it’s almost time for the sun to set, which means I have work to do.” Celestia glided over to the door while Twilight went in search of a broom to clean up her mess. Her search was interrupted, though, when she heard Celestia cough from the door.

“Are you coming, Twilight?”

Twilight froze, staring blankly at the princess. “C-coming? You want me to join you?” Typically, Celestia would come and go as she pleased, rarely giving Twilight as much time as the young student wanted. It was understandable, though, as Celestia had a country to run.

“It would make sense, as you’re finished for the day and I yet have a day to finish. Unless, of course, you would prefer to walk back to the castle on your own?”

“Uh, no! Definitely not. Just one second.” Twilight hastily stashed the crystal back in its storage case, then scrambled over to the door and stood up straight before Celestia, stopping just short of giving her a salute.

Laying a hand on Twilight’s back, Celestia chuckled at Twilight’s tension. “Faithful student, there is no need for you to be so formal.” With the other hand, Celestia gestured outside. “Let us proceed.”

While Twilight tried her hardest to relax, she continued to find it difficult. Just the simple act of Celestia lightly touching her back sent shivers down Twilight’s spine. Why is that? thought Twilight. She’d learned under Celestia for years and years, and she hadn’t felt this sort of unease since her first days of schooling. Celestia was a very affectionate ruler and teacher, Twilight knew. Little touches like that were common, meant to share comfort and guidance, nothing more.

Did Twilight want them to be more?

She twitched at the thought. Of course not. There was a perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this: Twilight had just been away from Canterlot and Celestia for so long that she wasn’t used to her presence. In her days of learning under Celestia, Twilight had become jaded to the company of a princess and her time in Ponyville had only brought back a vulnerability to these “heebie-jeebie” feelings. That had to be the reason she felt so weird.

“Twilight?”

“Hmm? Oh, did I miss something? I’m so sorry, I must have zoned out! You know me, can’t keep my focus on one thing for more than a few seconds. What a scatterbrain I am!” Twilight forced a laugh.

Celestia did not seem convinced. “Twilight Sparkle, you have a mind like a steel trap. The last word I would use to describe you is ‘scatterbrained’.”

“Oh, I must just feel that way. Rough week, you know.”

“Nervous about the ball tomorrow? Or perhaps I should reconsider that extra time?”

Twilight shook her hands out in front of her furiously. “No no no! I totally have this. Just gonna have a nice, long rest and I will be back at one hundred percent! One hundred and ten percent, even!”

“I’m only concerned for you. This would not be the first time you’ve let the stress of a task overtake you. I seem to recall one such instance, not so long ago, involving a certain Smarty Pants doll...”

Twilight’s cheeks flushed red. “I really was sorry about that! And you can bet I learned my lesson, oh yes. No infectious spells in public.”

“And before that, something with a golden pot on the dinner table...”

“You know those soups always get cold at royal dinners before anyone gets a chance to eat them! I only wanted to help!”

“You’re lucky the Duke only singed his tongue. And not a year before that, the phantom noises in the throne room...”

“You said you loved the sound of wind blowing across the balcony, I just wanted to bring that inside so you could listen during the day!”

“You scared all of the nobles out of the castle for an entire day and did a little more than startle me. Which, if I’m being honest, is somewhat impressive on its own.”

“But I was—” Twilight’s head sank and she started fumbling with her hands. “I’m kind of a screw-up, aren’t I?”

“Twilight Sparkle!”

Twilight jumped backwards, her gaze shooting to Celestia. The panicked student stood on the path, paralyzed, waiting for some sort of punishment.

“I will not have you speaking of yourself in such a manner. You are the most intelligent, determined student I have ever had, and by no definition of the phrase are you a ‘screw-up’! I only show concern because, as I have learned, the one and only thing in this world that can stop you from succeeding is yourself.”

Playing with her hands again, Twilight looked away, attempting to mumble a reply. “I, uh, well I don’t think, maybe, umm—”

Celestia reached down and took one of Twilight’s hands, then began to guide her down the path at a brisk pace. “Come. There is something I want to show you.”

With a meek squeak, Twilight stumbled after her, very focused on the joining of their hands. Celestia’s grip was firm, as if not even accepting a hint of defiance—but it was also gentle, offering the same kind of guidance Twilight often had from her teacher.

It also happened to make Twilight’s heart beat very rapidly. The worst part was that Twilight had no idea why.

Luckily, the walk to the castle was not far. Celestia took Twilight into a private courtyard, the very same one Twilight had seen her dancing in not a day before. Finding a bench, Celestia sat down, inviting Twilight to join her. Trying her best to hide her blush, Twilight nodded and took a seat, making sure their bodies weren’t touching at all. She feared she may have exploded in such a case.

“Look,” said Celestia, pointing to the horizon. “Do you see the sun, ready to set? The moon, ready to rise? As you well know, that is my and my sister’s task. But tell me, dear student, what would happen if we forgot how to control the sun and moon at this very moment?”

“Umm,” Twilight locked her gaze on the setting sun, too nervous to look at Celestia. “Things would be pretty bad, I guess. There wouldn’t be enough sunlight for most plants to grow. People wouldn’t know when to sleep or even what time of day or night it was. There would be a panic.”

Celestia nodded. “Likely. And what do you think Luna and I would do about it?”

“Well, I think you two would work your hardest to find out how to fix the problem. You’d spend all your time trying to make the moon and sun move again.”

“I’d say you’re right about that as well. But what if we couldn’t find a solution right away? What if it took months?”

Twilight stared at her hands resting in her lap, as if trying to wean some wisdom from them. “Crops might die. People would be really confused. It would be pretty hard to keep a schedule.”

“And how do you think those people would see their leaders?”

“They would be mad,” Twilight said, then turned to Celestia, tugging at her sleeve, “but they would be wrong! I know you would try as hard as you could! It’s not your fault that it happened, you don’t deserve the blame.”

“And therein lies the problem!” said Celestia, poking Twilight’s shoulder with each syllable. “It isn’t your fault that you cannot divine the mysteries of structure matrices, or master self-heating pot enchantments, yet you still blame yourself for it. That is why I suggested a break in the first place; it would—hopefully—allow you time to understand that, or at least take you far enough away from your stress that you could have a space to think straight.”

“Oh.” Just like that, Twilight felt like a schoolkid again. While it was a touch demeaning to be put back in her place, she also felt comfortable in the knowledge that Celestia still had things to teach her. Things Celestia was willing to teach her. Not to mention Twilight kinda deserved it.

“Come now, Twilight, it’s an easy mistake to make. Don’t get so wrapped up in the little things.” Celestia looped an arm around Twilight’s back, grabbing Twilight’s far arm and pulling her closer. “I hear there’s a beautiful moonrise about to happen.”

“I like the sunrise better,” Twilight mumbled under her breath.

“What was that?”

“Oh! Nothing.” Letting out a deep breath, Twilight rested her head on the taller woman’s shoulder. It had been a long time since the two had enjoyed something like this. Too long, thought Twilight. It was such a fantastic night for it, as well. The grass was no longer wet from the previous day’s rain, but the smell of it still lingered in the air, like a whisper on wind. The air was cool and crisp, the perfect temperature for snuggling up next to your favorite person.

As Twilight listened to the world around her, she swore she could hear a heartbeat next to her own.

Propping her head on a hand, Twilight absentmindedly rolled the red crystal back and forth across the table. For hours, her thoughts had been on her research, trying to work out the equations and complexities behind storing physical objects as magic energy, but nothing seemed to come. She was working hard and getting nowhere.

She rolled the crystal a little too fast to keep track of it, and it fell off the table, hitting the floor with a thud and tumbling away. Twilight merely frowned at it and let it lie. Maybe Celestia was right. Maybe she needed a break. With a huff, she walked over the the crystal and stashed it back in its storage container. She didn’t want a break, though. The longer this took, the longer she’d be away from her friends—not that she minded Celestia’s company, of course. Or Luna’s.

Twilight wondered what her friends were up to. Pinkie was probably having a conniption, as was typical when one of her friends left town for more than a couple days. Twilight only hoped the girls could keep Pinkie in check. Rainbow probably was just practicing more, zooming around the skies with the same grace that Celestia walked. Applejack... ah, what did it matter? Outside of Pinkie, they were all likely going about their lives as usual. That’s what adults did, wasn’t it? Things changed, and you just had to deal with it.

Sitting back down, Twilight started doodling on her notes. It had been many years since she doodled. Celestia found it cute, but Twilight’s mind didn’t wander like it used to. Copious amounts of reading supposedly did wonders for one’s concentration. Twilight felt a pang of regret wash over her; harkening back to the days where her mind ran loose like a kid in a playground. Sometimes she wished she could have those days back. Such thoughts, however, were unbecoming of the princess’s personal protégé.

As the quill meandered across the page, Twilight found herself drawing wings. Large, fine wings, angled open and catching wind, like in flight. Attached to those wings were a body, equine in nature, but Twilight saw it as far more noble than any horse. A raised, yet short snout, and a majestic, ghostly mane and tail tumbling across the wind like water down a river. At the forehead, Twilight placed a piercing horn like one from the unicorns of legend. Twilight looked over her drawing with a smile. She truly had no skill with artistry, and any other person would likely be appalled by her creation, but Twilight was okay with this lonely doodle. Squinting, Twilight scrutinized her drawing. It still felt like she was missing something...

After thinking a moment, Twilight scribbled a symbol on the creature’s flank: a sun, with waves of fire and glow spiking outward from it. That’s better.

Her doodle finished, Twilight stood up and yawned. Deciding to clear her head with a walk, she then set out for the castle. As the fresh air of the castle grounds hit her, she looked upon the many yard decorations and smiled. This place always reminded her of her childhood, of home. Of course, she wasn’t overly-fond of some of the more stuck-up clientele, looking for cheap favors from the royal court. As the personal student of the princess, more than once she had been approached with flattery or bribery in an effort to get on the princess’s good side.

Twilight grumbled and kicked at the path. These sour images were not doing well for her mood. Looking out upon a particular statue of Celestia, Twilight recalled the days of hide-and-seek in the courtyard. Celestia was impossible to hide from, as Twilight had come to realize, but the princess knew how to play along, almost as if she’d had kids of her own. Twilight scratched her chin. Did Celestia ever have kids? A husband? She shuddered. A lover?

Strolling up to the statue, Twilight laid a hand on the sculpture of Celestia’s shoulder. The craftsmanship was amazing, though such was expected in the royal yard. The statue’s gaze was fierce, piercing, unrelenting. Certainly not the Celestia Twilight had grown to know, but the librarian wasn’t ignorant to that side of her teacher either.

Turning away, Twilight continued her walk, thoughts wandering to other things. She missed the wide array of foods the castle offered her while under Celestia’s care, as well as the gratuitously-large beds. Her twin-sized mattress in Ponyville offered no competition. Now in the castle itself, Twilight’s gaze smeared along the walls and ceiling, drinking in the artisanship she oft took for granted. She scrunched up her face in thought, unsure of whether or not she missed these halls as well. Too gaudy for her tastes—but they held memories nonetheless.

Twilight’s journey through the past continued until she was interrupted by a harsh cough, bringing her out of her reverie. She found the source of the noise to be a guard, who now pointed to the grand doors Twilight was about to walk through: the entrance to the throne chamber. Celestia was likely holding court, and Twilight’s arrival would probably be seen as an unwelcome interruption, especially to whomever had sought the princess out.

Blushing, Twilight nodded a silent thank you to the guard and scurried out of the castle lobby. What in the world brought me there? Her walk had been aimless, almost dreamy... but her destination seemed awfully specific.

Shaking her head, Twilight dismissed the thought and continued on, drawn ever deeper into contemplation. She thought about the fight with Nightmare Moon and the moments afterward, seeing Celestia’s face, her smile, filling the room with her light. And the desperation with which Twilight had run over to her, embracing her Celestia like they’d been apart for eons, clutching her as tight as she could, wishing to never let go again. Twilight had realized, then, exactly how much she had missed Celestia. It wasn’t like coming home to her parents after a week of private lessons, or seeing her brother after half a year of guard duty—this ache was more powerful and completely unique. Even the void left by leaving her friends in Ponyville wasn’t like that feeling.

Why, though? It was a silly thing to get so worked up, over, wasn’t it? Celestia could look after herself. She’d only been gone a few days, not to mention that, to her, Celestia was nothing more than a teacher and princess, one that could only offer a sliver of her time to her hopeful student—she had a country to run, after all.

Twilight certainly aggravated the situation with her screw-ups, like when Celestia almost came to Ponyville during the parasprite incident, or even worse, when she did show up to clean up Twilight’s Want-It-Need-It spell. The memory made Twilight cringe as she recalled the embarrassment, the dread, the crippling fear... but most of all, the shame cutting through her heart, the knowledge that she had let Celestia down.

Twilight lashed out, striking at the door in front of her, trying to scare the memories away. Her hands stung with each swing, but she ignored the pain. When she looked up, she found herself looking at the doors to Celestia’s private chambers, empty while the princess held court. Twilight quickly brought her hands to her sides, abashed by the open display of emotion in the castle hallways.

“Do you need something, Twilight Sparkle?”

Twilight spun around, startled by the speaker. She was taller than Twilight, clad in a more formal dress, navy blue with patterns of black scattered about. Thick jewelry, as dark as her dress, dangled from her neck. Long hair, as black as night, hung from her head, falling nearly to her elbows.

It was Princess Luna.

“Heh, no, Princess. I was just taking a walk. I guess I ended up here.”

“Would you like to join me? I was contemplating a walk around the grounds myself. Does me no good to stay cooped up, sleeping through every day in my chambers.”

Twilight considered the offer a moment. It couldn’t hurt, I suppose.

“Sure.” She strolled up to Luna’s side and the two started down the hall. “Uh, Luna, do you mind if I ask you a question about your sister?”

“About Tia?” Luna grinned. “I don’t see why not.”

“What’s the first memory you have of her?”

“Oh, my,” said Luna, putting a hand to her chin. “That may be a difficult question to answer. It was so long ago.” She thought on it for a few moments, swaying her head back and forth. “I believe that would be... on a mountaintop. She was standing above me, keeping watch.” Luna looked over to Twilight. “I’m not sure if you know this, but there are actually a great many years separating our births. While relatively I am not that much younger, Celestia was still old enough to be my guardian when I was birthed. I remember... seeing her, looking at the sky—I cannot remember if the sun or moon was out—watching out for me. And I felt at home. Yes, I think that is the best way to describe it.” Sighing, Luna crossed her arms. “Even after all these years, she hasn’t lost that look I saw that day: determined, fiery like the sun she represents.”

“Wow.”

Luna threw her head back with a laugh. “Yes, I suppose ‘wow’ describes my sister quite well, too. But, if I may, Twilight... why did you wish to know?”

Twilight stuffed her hands in her pockets. “I think I was curious.”

“I’ve no doubt, but the curiosity was self-evident. I’m wondering what brought upon that curiosity.”

Twilight’s heart began to race. Why is this such a hard question to answer?

“I... wanted to know what she was like without the mask. Without worrying about what the public thought about her. Without trying to maintain any kind of appearance. Natural, you know?”

“Hmph. And I thought my sister was good at avoiding questions. I can see, at least, she is a fine teacher.”

“Sorry!” cried Twilight, running a hand through her hair. “I just, I dunno. I couldn’t say why I wanted to know. I just did. You’re not mad at me, are you?”

“Perish the thought. A little unbridled curiosity never hurt anyone. It’s only curiosity and love that make us human.” Joining her hands behind her back, Luna asked, “Are you looking forward to the ball tonight?”

Twilight swallowed. “T-tonight? I thought it was still days away!” This was inconvenient, as Twilight had not yet discovered what was making her act so odd around Celestia. She wanted to look forward to the event. It promised to be an enjoyable, relaxing evening, even if Twilight wasn’t usually one for big celebrations. A full night of nothing but time with Celestia... though now it seemed more intimidating than anything. She could hardly speak without stuttering in her current state.

“Indeed it is tonight. I wonder how you could have lost track of the time. Entranced by your studies again? As much as I may find the study of magic interesting, your penchant surpasses even my sister’s.”

“Heh. I guess I do get carried away sometimes...” Twilight slowed, a cautious question moving to her lips. “Does Celestia, too? Get carried away, I mean.”

“Ha! She’s been on her fair share of all-night binges, certainly. There are times I’ve come to wake her to raise the sun, only to find her shaky with blood-shot eyes, attempting to keep herself from falling asleep in a book. I swear, the only times she’s truly at peace is when she has you here to converse with.”

“...Really?”

“She’s taken you as a personal charge, runs an entire school devoted to the study of magic and has assembled the largest library in Equestria. Yes, Twilight. Really.” Luna shook her head and sighed. “There are times I do wonder what goes on in that head of yours.”

Twilight didn’t reply, however. She was too busy grinning like a schoolgirl who just got a report card full of “A”s. While she had suspected Celestia enjoyed researching the school of magic more than her reserved demeanor let on, hearing from Luna exactly how much Celestia reveled in the same world of study that Twilight did gave her a smile that threatened to surpass the capabilities of her mouth.

“Twilight?”

“Oh!” Twilight jumped at the sound of Luna’s voice, then looked to the princess with wide eyes. “Umm, I just thought of something—have to go bye!” With that, she took off.

Skipping.

Luna watched the librarian cavort away, clearly perplexed by Twilight’s sudden change in demeanor.

Where did you find this one, dear sister?

From Celestia, said the note on the parcel. No “princess” or “Your mentor” on it, just “Celestia”. Twilight dug into the wrapping, removing it to reveal a box, wide and flat, plain unlike everything else about her surroundings. Twilight wasted no time pulling the lid off, then took a step back when she saw what was underneath.

“Oh my goodness,” gasped Twilight, dropping the box lid. Lying pristine, glowing with the candlelight that reflected off of it, was a gorgeous dress, dipped in the dark colors of Twilight’s hair with dual stripes of pink and purple running abreast.

Twilight slipped the dress on, and it fit like a glove, clinging to the soft curvature of her body with something one could almost describe as grace.

In this dress, she might actually look like she belonged at the ball.

Twilight couldn’t keep her grin from growing to stupid proportions. Celestia must have known her measurements perfectly to keep this gift a surprise and still have it fit so well. Such a thing was to be expected of the princess.

A knock on the door grabbed Twilight’s attention and she walked over, slowly opening the door to revealing her visitor.

Standing just outside was a solider, clad in the golden armor of Celestia’s Guard. He held his helmet in one arm and twirled the other in front of himself as he bowed.

“It is an honor, Twilight Sparkle. I am Truefoot. Princess Celestia has requested that I escort you to the ball.”

“Oh!” Twilight had not expected such pomp to her presence. In fact, she would have preferred to slip into the ball quietly. Being the personal student of one of the princesses tended to garner some unwanted attention at high-brow events such as this. “Well, um, hi, and thank you.”

“Are you ready to depart now?”

“Er, yes, I think? I don’t know. Can I have a minute?”

Truefoot bowed again. “Of course.”

Twilight gestured with her index finger that she’d just take one minute, then darted back inside her room and ran to the mirror. She did a quick check of her appearance, making minor adjustments to her hair and dress. It’s just a ball, Twilight. Not even as big as the Gala! For a moment, her expression became determined as she nodded at her reflection. Letting out a heavy breath, she turned to the door. Not giving herself a chance to hesitate any longer, Twilight walked out of her room and closed the door behind her. She turned to the guard.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

He nodded and gestured down the hallway. “This way, Miss Sparkle.”

The two walked in silence for a short while, Truefoot leading and Twilight a short ways behind.

“First time at one of the Princess’ balls?”

Twilight forced a laugh. “No, just nervous. More than a little.”

“I know what you mean. I’ve been working at the palace, guarding Celestia for over fifteen years now, and you know what? I never get used to her presence. Like trying to balance a broom on your finger.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Heh, sorry about that. Didn’t mean to get you even more worked up.”

“Oh, no,” said Twilight, waving him off, “I appreciate the sentiment. I feel better now.”

Twilight knew that was a lie; she was just as worked up as before.

The guard nodded, and the two headed to the ball in silence. Twilight did everything she could to keep her mind occupied: played with her hands, let her eyes wander around the halls, thought about spell matrices and algorithms. While it helped a little, it did have the unfortunate side-effect of making the walk to the castle ballroom pass by rather quickly.

“We’re here.”

Opening the door, the guard stepped inside and gestured to a long, though sparsely occupied table at the head of the room. Twilight could already make out both of the princesses sitting down.

“Go ahead, Twilight. Celestia has requested you sit next to her,” he said, grinning.

Twilight only gaped. “Really?”

“Of course! What did you expect? The Princess’d move the world for you—at least, that’s what this humble guard has gathered from his observations.”

Bowing, Twilight entered the ballroom, almost skipping her way to the head table. The guard’s comment had begun to chip away at Twilight’s anxiety. As she approached the table, she found Celestia currently occupied by a rather insistent noble.

“And I can assure you, Princess, that my family has—”

“Mmm, have you had some of this Manehattan Island dressing? It’s really great!” Celestia said, her mouth half full.

“I-uh, I’m afraid I have not partaken in that particular dressing,” the noble replied.

“You should.” Seeing Twilight, Celestia waved her over. “Ah! Twilight! Come, take a seat.”

Twilight scurried to the chair at Celestia’s side, mumbling an apology to the noble for interrupting on the way.

“Tia, why don’t you let me speak with the kind noble? I’m sure there are plenty of things demanding your attentions,” said Luna.

“Thank you, sister. I’m sure our good friend would appreciate it as well,” said Celestia, almost glaring down the noble.

“Uh, yes. Of course.” Luna took the noble’s arm and walked off with him. Twilight couldn’t make out what they were saying, and doubted it was something she’d concern herself with. In fact, the only thing she was worried about at the moment was the breathtaking woman sitting right next to her, the brightest point in the entire room.

The very person who happened to be melting Twilight with a serene smile this very second.

“H-hi, Princess.”

Celestia sat with her back straight, her wispy hair ever-flowing, nearly touching Twilight, and her hands in her lap. Secretly, Twilight wished they would embrace her. Such an action wouldn’t be proper in public like this, however. “Hello, dear Twilight. I do wish you would call me ‘Celestia’, or at least ‘Princess Celestia’. You speak as if we do not know each other.”

Twilight’s head dipped. “Sorry. Just a habit.”

“Don’t worry about it. Tonight is supposed to be enjoyable, yes? Have some of salad; I heard the dressing was fantastic.”

Eyeing the plate in front of her, Twilight shrank back. It was filled with an assortment of foods, ranging from salad to breads to fruits and even some things the young librarian didn’t recognize. Her stomach remained silent, however; she hadn’t really come here to eat.

“I’d almost expect you to be nervous at a royal ball, especially with what happened at the last Gala. However, you needn’t worry about impressing me tonight, you’ve spent the last twenty-odd years of your life doing that.” Celestia ended the statement with a reassuring smile, but Twilight became only more restless.

“Why are you so easy on me, Princess? Every little mess-up I’ve had in the past could’ve been devastating to your image. Your personal student, screwing up enchantments? Using infectious spells? I could have really hurt the duke with that self-heating spell! And what if Spike hadn’t warned you about the situation in Ponyville?”

Celestia leaned over and placed a hand on Twilight’s shoulder. “You were young. It’s perfectly normal, and I would even say acceptable, for a girl to make mistakes.”

“Not during the Smarty Pants incident!”

“I think your friends explained very well why you shouldn’t be punished. You learned much as well, correct?”

Uugh, Twilight thought to herself, pulling at her hair. “I don’t want to know your logic behind your decision not to punish me, I want to know why you, the princess of the sun and my mentor, chose to let it go. Weren’t you angry that I let you down? Frustrated with my lack of foresight? Why were you so kind and understanding?”

“You speak as if I need a reason to be.”

“Yes! Yes, you do! People aren’t just as generous or benevolent as you are for kicks! I want—” Shaking her head, Twilight fought to find the words. “I want to understand.”

Celestia, composed as ever, just smiled and leaned back in her chair. “You want to know why? ‘Because why would you put your faith in someone that’s only going to make mistakes later?’”

Twilight looked at the floor, brooding over the question, and gave a timid nod.

“The answer is, of course, because they’re going to make mistakes later.”

A cautious eye turned to Celestia.

“You think, Twilight, because my position is so lofty, because I’ve lived so long and learned so much, that I wouldn’t concern myself with the lives of my subjects—but I do not look at the past the same way you or other people might. It’s... large, to say the least. While you can remember most of yours, and may be excited to learn and grow as it swells, I am more worried about whether or not I am repeating a mistake I’ve already made—perhaps even for the same reasons I made it in the first place. This world, these people,” Celestia lifted Twilight’s chin with a finger, “you, especially... I do not care despite the flaws, I care because of the flaws. Because I do not want to see those blunders ever again.” With a sigh, she added, “Because I see a bit of me in there, as well.”

Twilight opened her mouth to speak, but had no words to say. So many responses ran through her head, but none seemed right. Each day she had spent in Canterlot had completely destroyed her perception of Celestia, only to build it up stronger and brighter the next. Now to hear Celestia felt so close to her subjects—no, to Twilight, specifically?

“Not what you expected, Twilight?”

“N-no. Not at all.”

“I’m afraid I’m acting too much the teacher, again. I meant for this to be a relaxing evening, where we could chat and enjoy some nice music and delectables, not another lesson. And here I’ve gone and delved too deep, burdened you with the silly thoughts of an old princess with too much on her mind. I apologize for that.”

“Um,” said Twilight, fumbling with her hands again, “I actually like this. And, technically, we are chatting and enjoying the music.”

Celestia narrowed her gaze slightly, trying to discern the genuity of Twilight’s statement. After a moment, she softened her eyes and nodded. “If you’re enjoying yourself, then so am I.”

“So...” Twilight began picking at her food with a fork. “Any more of those ‘silly thoughts’?”

Celestia giggled before replying, “Are you sure you want to hear them? I doubt you would find them interest—ah.” She shook her head. “I forgot who I was talking to. Would you like to hear about anything in particular?”

“What do you think of this?” said Twilight as she gestured to the ballroom. “And I mean as Celestia, not the Princess.” Holding her breath, Twilight briefly wondered if she’d pushed to hard with that question.

Celestia showed no apprehension. “Social gatherings in the castle like this are... interesting, I would say. I must admit they have a component of dullness to them, but as a princess I need to keep up appearances, and as a person I am curious as to how the nobles act. Something to keep in mind next time they come to me asking for favor.” Her smile turned mischievous. “I can’t deny my more whimsical side, either. It’s fun to tease the guests at times—but don’t tell anyone I said that, least of all Luna. She’d hold it over my head for decades.”

“I-I won’t.”

“Come now, Twilight, relax. I’m not going to bite.” She leaned inward, whispering, “Hard.”

“Eeep!” Twilight squealed and dropped her fork. It dropped to the floor with a clink, eliciting another small jolt from Twilight. Scanning the room, Twilight made sure no one noticed her loss of composure; they were all busy with their own conversations.

Celestia, however, was more than a little amused.

“Pfft! Twilight, you’re too easy!”

Heat rose to Twilight’s face as she clenched a fist, thinking up her revenge. With a grin of her own, she grabbed a sweetroll and tossed it straight at Celestia’s face. Her projectile struck with a satisfying smack, leaving a small splotch of grease where it hit.

Shock reigned on Celestia’s face, and for a moment, Twilight considered she may have gone a step too far. However, Celestia simply wiped the grease off and smiled in return. “Twilight, you have picked a fight with someone who has centuries of food-fighting experience. Are you sure you wish to tread there?”

Twilight just stuck her tongue out in return.

“Very well.”

A soft jingle ran through Twilight’s ears as Celestia summoned her magic, promptly dumping Twilight’s salad on the poor student’s head. Gasping, Twilight, cleared the greens from her hair and returned fire, grazing Celestia’s arm with another sweetroll.

War had been declared, and the two were soon lost to the world. Confections, vegatables, any form of food they could lay their hands on were now weapons, instruments of messiness and chaos.

Twilight’s smile turned to giggles, which soon turned to laughter, unbridled and pure. Her hair was a mess, her dress was most assuredly in a similar state, but her face and her soul sang of happiness, of joy with abandon. The food fight reminded her of her younger days with Celestia, when everything didn’t have to be so thought-out, so carefully constructed. She hated the formality they had come to, but never knew how to break it.

The guests quickly noticed the commotion happening at the head table, and whispered amoungst themselves, wondering what had gotten into the princess and her pupil. Were they mad at each other, or just insane? Was there something in the food? A spell gone wrong? As student and teacher fought on, the carnage threatened to involve bystanders. A stray potato slid over to the watching crowd, bumping into the nearest man. He kicked it away with a sigh and walked out. The rest of the party soon followed him.

Before long, the combatants’ plates ran empty, offering no more ammunition for the fight. Twilight frowned and slumped back into her chair, disregarding the bits of food she sat down on. Not like a little more mess would matter, anyways. Celestia was covered with food as well, though she looked as if she cared even less about it than Twilight.

Upon seeing each other’s state, the two burst out laughing. Twilight hunched over, holding her sides while Celestia had to lean on the table for support. The ballroom had never reverberated with such honest revelry; it had only known polite laughs and snide guffaws.

Gliding over to Twilight, Celestia embraced her tightly, as if she might never let go. Twilight didn’t want her to.

“I’ve missed you, Twilight.”

Twilight hugged her back, letting her face settle to a contented expression. Without meaning to, Celestia had taught her something very important this night: how to let go. Even her friends in Ponyville hadn’t seen Twilight as naked as she was now. This was the feeling Twilight had been searching for, even if she hadn’t realized it. She hoped it’d never leave.

“I missed you too, Celestia.”

They embraced in their mess and peace for a long, silent moment before Celestia pulled back. Frowning, Twilight looked down at her dress. “Phooey. I only got to wear it one night before ruining it.”

“Ah, but Twilight, you forget: you’re with one of the princesses of Equestria.”

With that, Celestia summoned her magic once again, covering both herself and Twilight in a golden glow. The food slowly slid off of them and their clothing like water spilling off a rock. Twilight couldn’t help but twitch; the spell tickled a bit. When Celestia released the spell, Twilight looked herself over, smiling at finding her new dress now pristine.

Twilight was again surprised when Celestia took her hand and guided her away from the mess toward the center of the ballroom. She was just now noticing they were the only two people left in the room. Turning back to Celestia, she found her teacher looking directly into her vulnerable eyes, as if looking for something beyond them. Twilight blushed under the attention and broke eye contact, searching for nothing in particular.

“May I have this dance?”

Twilight froze, her eyes widening. Her hands began to shake, very clearly spilling her emotions out to Celestia. She didn’t just—oh no! This can’t be happening!

“I-I, uh, I’m n-not a very good dancer.”

“Nonsense. Your friends told me you made quite the performance during Rarity’s birthday party.”

Flashes of her obnoxious stumblings in the past ran through Twilight’s head. “That was hardly dancing.”

Twilight tried to lower her head, but Celestia grasped her other hand, forcing Twilight’s body to face Celestia. “Hut-tut, Twilight, that is not proper posture. Chin up, back straight. Come now.”

Fighting to hide her blush, Twilight reluctantly lifted her head, though she kept her eyes locked on Celestia’s neck. She knew she was going to completely mess this up and look like a total klutz. It was just a matter of time. But what could Twilight do? This was simultaneously exactly what she wanted and what she dreaded.

“That’s better. Now follow my lead.”

Celestia transitioned into a smooth current of motions, diving into the dance as if it required no effort at all. Clenching her teeth, Twilight did her best to follow along, though she did little more than keep her balance; Celestia was the one putting elegance in Twilight’s crude steps. Yet, it did feel like Twilight was part of the liquid dance, even if it was a minor one. She did her best to keep with Celestia, to retain the flow of the movement. With each step, she gained confidence and cohesion, now complimenting Celestia as opposed to dragging her down. As she improved, Celestia intensified the ballet, now twisting her hips, spinning her feet and tossing Twilight about. Twilight just grinned and followed, never letting her fear return. Somehow... somehow she knew what to do. Maybe Celestia was using a spell, maybe Twilight was a natural—she didn’t care. It worked, and it worked well. Like the sun soaring across the sky, Twilight knew where it began, knew its path and it’s destination.

So she danced, and the world watched.

She was so caught up in the motions that she gasped when everything was suddenly brought to a halt. Celestia spun her close, drawing her in and stealing her gaze with that disarming smile of hers.

“And you say you cannot dance.”

“You just took me along for the ride.”

“I would disagree.”

“Not really, compared to you. You look better, even in the rain.”

“Oh? You saw me?”

Her expression animated with terror and a hand shot to her mouth. Oh no.

“Aren’t you going to ask me why? I’m surprised you’ve been able to keep it bottled up.”

Because I didn’t want you to know. Wait, whydidn’t I want you to know?

“I’ll let you in on a little secret, Twilight.” Celestia leaned in to the point their noses were nearly touching. “Even after all these years, no matter how wise or dignified someone such as I becomes, no matter how mature or composed I am, sometimes—” her voice sank to a whisper, “—it’s good to just let go.”

Twilight felt blood and heat rushing to her face at an alarming rate, intensifying with each moment she held herself close to Celestia, not even an inch away, overwhelmed by the power of her stature and the fire of her presence. Tension shot through Twilight’s body like electricity. Just when Twilight was sure she would burst with anticipation, she broke away, sprinting out of the ballroom crying “Sorry!” as she ran. Her feet were heavy, but her strides were long and fast.

The ballroom door slammed shut behind her, leaving Celestia standing alone in a lonely room.