Perfect for Me

Chapters

A Matter of Time
Living a Dual Life
Double Entendre
The Bit Drops
Mirror Dearest
Double Trouble
A Crack in the Mirror
Self-Image
Reflecting
A Change of Plans

A Matter of Time

Twilight Sparkle's library was a mess. It wasn't the comfortable sort of mess you get by simply neglecting to tidy up for a while, although it was certainly due for some spring cleaning. Nor was it in the chaotic state of disarray that resulted, with alarming regularity, from the passage of a certain seven-colored speedster with no concept of the difference between "library" and "obstacle course".

No, today Twilight's library was the sort of mess that only Twilight could make. The floor was a labyrinth of books, note pads, discarded quills, and an alarming number of conspicuously empty coffee mugs. In the very center of the maze was a dense hedge of open tomes and unrolled scrolls, glowing slightly as they were held aloft by the magic of the unicorn they surrounded. Spike called it Book Fort Alpha. Twilight called it "Spike, stop distracting me and go get volume three of Sky Charts Monthly."

"...Swimsuit Edition?" The small dragon peered dubiously at the label of the scroll he had retrieved from the shelf. "Seriously? What—" He started to open the scroll, but it was yanked out of his claws and flew to join its brethren in the walls of Twilight's fortress of literature.

"I said get it, not gawk at it," the mare snapped irritably. "Honestly, Spike. ...thirty-five, twenty-four, fifty-six... adjust to Equestrian Standard Time..." Her voice trailed off into silence as she returned to her study.

Spike opened his mouth to protest, but when he saw the look of intense concentration on Twilight's face, he thought better of it. There was no reasoning with her when she was in one of these moods. One minute she would be reading quietly inside her nest of knowledge, content as could be. Then at the slightest provocation, she might come charging out, berating some hapless target with a tirade of words whose meanings Spike only half understood, but whose intent was all too clear.

In fact, the little dragon noticed, her left eye had just started twitching. That meant it was probably time to make himself scarce.

"Ding-dong!"

"RRRGGGHH!" Twilight let out a shout of frustration and shot to her hooves, her cocoon of books exploding outward in a wave of uncontrolled telekinetic energy. Her mane began to smolder dangerously as she stalked through the sudden rain of paper. It only occurred to her as she opened the door that she didn't have a doorbell.

"Ding-dong!" chimed Pinkie Pie cheerfully, grinning out from under a brightly-colored basket of what were most certainly invitations to her next party. "Special delivery for Twilight Sparkle!"

Twilight's expression shifted immediately from fury to resignation. "Hello, Pinkie," she greeted her exuberant friend with a sigh. "What's the occasion?" Her eyes widened in surprise as she found the corner of a garishly pink envelope suddenly stuffed into her mouth.

"It's a Twilight's Been Being a Grumpy McHidesInHerLibraryAllDay and Needs to See Her Friends party," Pinkie chirped, "and you're the guest of honor!"

"Uh, thanf," Twilight mumbled around the invitation, then grabbed it with her magic. "I mean thanks. I guess I have been a little isolated lately, huh?" The unicorn smiled sheepishly at her friend.

"Oh don't worry about it. Everypony gets busy sometimes. Just don't forget to make time for your friends, too!" With that, the pink pony turned and began bouncing away toward the next stop on her route. "See you tomorrow night!" she called over her shoulder.

"See you then, Pinkie," Twilight called after her friend. She turned back into her library, shaking her head, a small smile still on her face.

Then she froze.

"Wait, tomorrow night?"

Her dragon assistant looked at her questioningly from his hiding place under a desk. “Uh, what’s wrong, Twi? What’s tomorrow night?”

“Oh, nothing,” the unicorn answered with false casualness as she trotted across the library to retrieve her assistant, lifting him in her magic. “Just one of the most exciting astrological events of this decade. Every single planet in our solar system is going to be within fifty kilometers of a perfectly straight line, Spike. Every. Single. Planet!” Each of the last three words was emphasized by Twilight’s eyes becoming wider, her face inching closer to her trembling assistant, and another piece of her mane throwing itself into disarray.

“O-oh. I see.” He clearly didn’t. He had never shared Twilight’s enthusiasm for astronomy. “Couldn’t you just... ask them to reschedule the party?”

“No!” The unicorn stomped her hoof. She placed the little dragon back onto the floor, much to his relief, then started to pace. “My friends are doing something nice for me, and I’ve already been ignoring them for way too long as it is. Pinkie’s probably already delivered most of the invitations, and everypony will have adjusted their schedules to be able to come to the party, and I can’t just ask them to put it all aside now.”

“Well, what about asking them to have the party at the library? It could be a... planet alignment watching party?”

Twilight just shot her assistant a disgusted look and paced faster, hooves tapping against the wood of the library floor. “Oh, Spike, what can I do? Oh... ponyfeathers!” she exclaimed angrily, then turned slightly red at the obscene outburst. “If I could just do two things at once, none of this would be a problem... wait a second.”

“Uh, Twilight?” Spike swallowed nervously, his eyes tracking the unicorn as she burst into action. Book Fort Alpha was reassembled in a matter of moments, and he could hear the scratching of a quill from inside.

“Spike? Could you make another pot of coffee?”

“Sure thing, Twi...” The little dragon made his way toward the kitchen to fulfill the request, but he had to suppress a nervous shiver as he glanced over at the lavender mare’s nest of floating books. There were very few things in Equestria more dangerous than a gifted unicorn with a brilliant idea... and Twilight Sparkle was a very gifted unicorn.

It was the following afternoon when Twilight emerged from her cloud of hovering reference texts, only hours before the party was scheduled to begin. Spike watched with relief as the disheveled mare stepped into view, the books floating gently to the ground around her. His unicorn friend had really been putting him through the wringer lately. Last night, he had gotten barely ten hours of sleep! He was fully aware that her emergence signalled the completion of whatever research she had undertaken, but... whatever she had come up with, it couldn’t possibly be worse than what he’d already been through.

“Spike! I’m going to need three mirrors, a half cup of diamond dust, and a scented candle. Lavender, if you can find it.”

Then again, the tired dragon mused, you really can’t just go jumping to conclusions like that. “On it, Twi,” he grumbled. Luckily, the items Twilight had requested were fairly common around their household. She was a scholar of magic, after all, and she was always in need of a wide variety of arcane tools and reagents. Spike headed to the storage cabinets and began rummaging through their contents.

Meanwhile, the unicorn had not remained idle. A quick glance toward the clock had sent her into a frantic session of simultaneously trying to clear space in the library’s main room for her spell, and attempting to straighten her frazzled mane and smooth down her rumpled coat. She was fairly successful on both counts, given how little sleep she had gotten recently, and had soon managed to smooth the books on the library’s floor and clear the fragments of paper from a section of her coat.

“Twilight? You’ve got a crop circle on your side,” Spike informed her flatly.

The mare blinked, turned her head to look at her side, and nodded. “So I do.”

“And the books on the floor are, uh, very... neat?”

Twilight looked around the library slowly. “So they are.”

“That wasn’t what you were going for, was it?”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to get some rest?”

Twilight, quite literally, bristled. Uncontrolled magic power, free from the command of the unicorn’s tired mind, threw her mane and much of her coat back into disarray as she stared at the little dragon with a frighteningly intense gaze. “No! I can’t let my friends down now. I’ve got this, Spike!” The unicorn’s expression became a manic grin as a spell, properly targeted this time, swept away the books on the library floor and floated her tools into the center of the empty space. “Watch, and be amazed!”

Spike watched, and he had to admit, he was amazed. In spite of his friend’s obvious tiredness, she spread the diamond dust into the lines of a mind-bogglingly complex runic circle with absolute precision. In the center of the circle, she placed the three body-length mirrors standing in a perfect triangle, each facing outward. The lavender-scented candle was lit and placed off to the side of the circle, adding a pleasant scent to the proceedings, but serving no apparent purpose as far as the little dragon could tell.

“Now, the moment of truth,” Twilight said with a grin. She stepped confidently into the circle of runes she had drawn on the floor, staring into the eyes of her reflection in one of the three mirrors. Her horn blazed brightly, and a web of glowing lines connected its tip to the outermost points of the diagram. The light coursed through the diamond powder, and soon the entire system of lines glittered with magical power.

Twilight Sparkle stepped forward, and into the mirror before her. There was a moment of dead silence, then Twilight Sparkle stepped out of both of the mirrors on the other side. The runes faded, then disappeared. Spike gaped. Both Twilights noticed each other at the same time.

“It... worked?” The two purple mares stared at each other, not daring for a moment to even believe their success, then simultaneously each lifted her right foreleg to reach out to the other. Identical grins blossomed on their faces as their hooves touched. “It worked!” Both unicorns sprung up and began to prance circles around each other, bouncing on all four hooves as they chanted the phrase in unison. “It worked it worked it worked it worked it worked it worked it worked!”

Spike watched his friend continue like this for more than a minute before he regained the presence of mind to pick his jaw off the floor. There were now, unquestionably, two Twilight Sparkles. A single question made its way to the forefront of his consciousness.

“How am I supposed to clean up after two of her?”

Living a Dual Life

"Spike, this telescope is filthy, where's the cleaning cloth?"

"Spike, have you seen my yellow dress anywhere?"

"Spike, could you bring me the Astonishing Almanac of Alternative Astronomy?"

"Spike, can you find my sapphire earrings?"

This was too much. Spike loved Twilight like a sister, but there are some times in any sibling's life when you just need to put your foot—or hoof, or claw—down.

"Spike, where's—"

"Twilight!" the baby dragon snapped. "You might be two ponies, but I'm still just one dragon. Unless you're planning on copying me too, you're going to have to tone it down a bit."

Both ponies halted what they were doing and looked at their assistant with startled expressions. They simultaneously tilted their heads to the side in a gesture that Spike had come to recognize as "what an interesting idea", and then exchanged a glance.

"Do you think we could?"

"I don't know, the spell might be different for dragons."

"We'd have to do some more research."

"There's no time for that now, though."

"We're sorry, Spike."

"We'll try to be more patient."

The two mares trotted over and nuzzled Spike on either cheek. The little dragon blushed at the show of affection as he watched them return to their respective tasks, then he shook himself. "This isn't going to be, uh, a permanent thing or anything, is it?"

The Twilight who was now busily cleaning the lens of her telescope glanced over at him. "Permanent? Oh, no of course not. After the party's over, we'll just reverse the spell, and everything's back to normal." The mare returned her attention to the telescope with a smile.

"Best of all, I get to keep both sets of memories when it's over. I told you, it's the perfect solution!" The other unicorn had come down from her sleeping area while Spike was distracted, and now stood at the door. She was attired casually for the party, wearing the simple yet elegant dress that she had received from Rarity for her birthday, and a pair of sapphire crescent moon earrings. "How do I look?" Spike opened his mouth to give her his approval, but the Twilight at the telescope answered first.

"Like a million bits!" the other mare said, grinning. Her twin returned the grin, then they both giggled.

"Enjoy the stargazing for me!"

"Have fun at the party!"

Spike watched the lavender unicorn with a growing sense of unease as she left the library. He couldn't quite put his claw on why, but he had a really bad feeling about this.

The party was in full swing by the time Twilight arrived at Sugarcube Corner. The game of Pin the Tail on the Pony had devolved into Pin the Pony in the Punch Bowl after a blindfolded Applejack had mistakenly pinned the tail onto an unsuspecting Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie was animatedly trying to convince a near-hysterical Rarity of the aesthetic value of purple cake smears on white coats, and Fluttershy had taken up residence on the ceiling following a mishap with a particularly large party popper. The action ceased immediately when Twilight stepped inside, as every pony in the room turned to greet their friend.

"Twilight!" Rainbow Dash was, perhaps unsurprisingly, first. She released her headlock on a sputtering Applejack and darted over to her unicorn friend. "We were getting worried you weren't going to make it!"

"Yeah, and a party's no fun if the guest of honor isn't there!" Pinkie piped up. "Although it was pretty funny when Gummy climbed into the confetti cannon while nopony was looking. I was expecting confetti, but instead it was like, wham! Alligator!"

"I'm just glad the poor thing was okay." Seeing that the chaos was calming down for the moment, Fluttershy righted herself and floated down from her place on the ceiling. "Oh, um, and that you made it, of course."

"You look wonderful, Darling," Rarity put in. "If I do say so myself," she added with a hint of modesty.

"Like we ain't used to you tootin' yer own horn by now." Applejack, mane sopping wet with most of the contents of the punch bowl, came up beside Rarity and elbowed her familiarly, much to the unicorn's chagrin. "Seriously though, Twi, ya look great."

"Thanks, girls," Twilight answered with a smile. "You know I'd never miss a chance to hang out with you all. Especially since you threw this party with me in mind."

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's party!" A blur of pink streaked over to the confetti cannon and pulled the lever, releasing an explosion of color and a small, toothless alligator. "Oops, there's Gummy!" Pinkie jumped forward and caught her pet in midair, giggling. "Gotcha!"

Twilight chuckled and shook her head at the pink pony's antics. "So, Rarity, that's an... interesting statement you're making there," she teased her friend with a playful grin. "Is that cake? Very, uh, avant garde."

The other unicorn's expression turned sour. "Don't remind me. Our dear Fluttershy sent it flying when one of Pinkie's noisemakers went off."

"I-I'm sorry," squeaked the embarrassed yellow pegasus from behind her mane.

"Hey, don't worry about it." Twilight's grin widened. "I've got just the spell for that. You wouldn't believe how many stains I had to get out of my coat after I got my first chemistry set. Just hold still."

Rarity looked a bit nervous at her friend's enthusiasm, but nodded slightly to give her permission. Twilight lowered her horn, recalled the form of the spell, reached for her magic, and—

Emptiness. A sense of falling.

The purple unicorn staggered as a wave of fatigue washed over her. She was vaguely aware of voices raised in alarm around her. Her mind raced. What had just happened? She hadn't overexerted herself that badly since she was a filly, and the spell had been a simple one, hardly more difficult than lifting a stack of books.

"Twilight? Hey, anypony in there?" A cyan hoof was waving in front of her face, interrupting her concentration. She lifted a foreleg to push it down with a scowl.

"She moved! See? I told you she didn't get turned to stone!" Pinkie's excited voice filtered through Twilight's thoughts, and she sighed heavily. She had been friends with the hyperactive earth pony long enough to know that focusing on a problem was more or less impossible with her around.

"I'm fine," she reassured them, lifting her face to look around at their worried expressions. She noted with some pride that, despite the difficulty she'd had with the spell, Rarity's coat was once again clean. "I guess I've just been working too hard lately."

"And after ya'll gave me such a talkin'-to for doin' the same thing," Applejack shook her head in exaggerated disappointment. "You just take it easy, alright sugarcube? We don't want ya collapsin' at yer own party, right girls?"

A chorus of "Right!" and "Exactly!" answered the farmer. Twilight gave them all a grateful smile. Maybe she really had just been pushing herself too hard. Her mirror spell had been a pretty tough one to cast, after all. The little party resumed around her and she let herself relax. Somewhere behind her, Pinkie had put one of her old records on and was singing along.

Equestria girls, we're kinda magical...

"So Twilight, what've you been so busy with anyway? Reading?" Rainbow Dash had sidled up next to her, smirking. Twilight rolled her eyes and filled a glass from the nearby punch bowl.

"Among other things, Rainbow. I'm not married to books, you know."

"Oh, so you mean you are on the market? Or are you still hot for teacher?"

Twilight choked on her drink. "Rainbow! How can you even say... The Princess... I... That wouldn't even be..." Her face turned a deep shade of maroon as she coughed and stammered. The pegasus rolled on the ground with laughter, only furthering her embarrassment.

"Wow, Twi, you shoulda seen the look on your face! Did I strike a nerve there?" Dash grinned up at her friend, sitting up as she recovered from her bout of laughter. "I knew you were a total teacher's pet, but oh pony."

"Yer one to talk about shootin' for the stars, Dash." Applejack trotted over to them, attracted by the commotion, and grinned at Twilight. "Ah keep tryin' to hook this filly up with some of the nice colts in town, but she's still holdin' out for that one Wonderbolt. What was his name? Or was it a her?"

"Hey, hey! Just because I've got a rainbow mane, you can't assume..."

"I ain't assuming anythin' I ain't seen with my own eyes. You start drooling like a pig at feedin' time when that Spitfire gal flies by in that tight little flight suit."

"I... I don't drool!"

"To be fair," Twilight put in, sipping from her glass, "she gets that way around any of the Wonderbolts." She paused and frowned down at the glass, then looked back up at the pair, suspiciously noting Applejack's still-damp mane. "Does this punch taste like apples to anypony else?"

The stars were truly beautiful that night. There was a chill in the air, but the sky was perfectly clear, ideal for stargazing. Twilight settled down by the telescope on her balcony, pulled up her notes and sky charts, and draped a warm blanket over herself. She hoped she was having fun at the party. She was certainly going to have fun here.

"Need anything else before I hit the hay?" Spike's voice came from the top of the stairs.

"No, I don't think so. Thanks for all your help today, Spike."

"Hey, no problem. That's what number one assistants are for, right?"

"Yes, and you'll always be my number one assistant." Twilight turned to smile at him. "Have a good night, Spike."

"Night, Twi," the little dragon said with a yawn. He disappeared back down the stairs, and Twilight soon heard his soft snoring coming from below. She turned back to her telescope and peered into it, preparing her magic to start the delicate adjustments needed to bring it into focus.

Instead of the expected field of stars, a single huge eye stared back at her.

"Gwah!" Twilight shot to her hooves and scrambled backward with a terrified exclamation. She looked up to find a blonde, grey-coated pegasus curiously inspecting the other end of the telescope, a small package held under one foreleg.

"I don't see any stars..." The pegasus's other eye swiveled to look at Twilight, and she straightened quickly, apparently remembering her purpose there. "Oh, right! Special delivery for Twilight Sparkle!"

"Jeez, Derpy, you scared the hay out of me. Uh, isn't it a little late to be delivering the post?"

"Uh huh, but this one said 'overnight' on it."

Twilight stared at her flatly for a moment before resigning herself to the fact that the innocent mailmare was completely serious. "Alright, give it here," she sighed. Derpy happily landed and set the package down, then twisted her head to pull a clipboard out of her saddlebags.

"Pleafe fign here," the pegasus said, her teeth clamped firmly on the board. Twilight lifted her quill, only to realize that she hadn't brought any ink up with her.

"Oh, darn it. I knew I should have made a checklist," the mare muttered to herself. "Sorry, one second." She knew right where her ink was, it would be a simple matter to teleport it to herself from here. She concentrated on the mental image of her desk with the ink pot on it, reached for her magic, and—

"Are you okay? That wasn't my fault, was it?" Twilight became dimly aware of Derpy's concerned voice speaking to her, and the feeling of the floor against her side. She sat up, shaking her head to clear it.

"I'm fine, I think." The unicorn looked around and saw her ink pot next to her. Wanting to recover quickly from the embarrassing situation, she lifted her quill again. The feather wavered in her telekinetic grip, but she gritted her teeth and forced it steady. Derpy picked her clipboard back up, and Twilight quickly signed her name.

"Fank you!" the mailmare chirped brightly before stashing the board back in her saddlebag. "Have a nice day! Er, night!"

Twilight waved as the pegasus flew off, her mind already elsewhere, and the package already forgotten. What the hay was that? She wasn't getting sick, was she? Hopefully her other half wasn't coming down with the same thing. Come to think of it, she wasn't entirely sure how having a cold would work when she used her mirror spell again. If they both had the cold, would she end up with twice as much cold? If she split herself again, would she end up with half as much...

Ah. The light bulb of sudden realization was nearly visible over the lavender unicorn's head as she made the connection. Conservation of energy! How could she have been so silly? First she'd tired herself out casting the spell, then she'd immediately divided what magical reserves she still had between two ponies. Splitting her power like that would have left her weak even if she'd had a full night's rest before she stepped through the mirror. As it was, she probably had no more capacity for magic than she'd had as a little filly, albeit with significantly more control over what she had.

The purple mare sighed heavily and returned to her telescope. Well, it wasn't so bad. It wasn't like she would really need much magic tonight anyway, unless something crazy happened.

Come on everypony smile, smile, smile,

Fill my heart up with sunshine, sunshine...

Pinkie Pie was still going, and Twilight couldn't help but do as the song suggested. Even as the party was winding down, its host seemed to be an endless wellspring of activity and enthusiasm. Twilight sipped at her last glass of punch, watching the energetic mare quietly, her mind already back at her tree home. Her musings were interrupted by Rainbow Dash coming back for another round of friendly ribbing.

"So Twi, about ready to go home and cuddle up to your favorite book?" Dash poked her unicorn friend with a wing, snapping her at least partway out of her thoughts.

"Hmm? Mhmm," Twilight answered vaguely.

"Maybe a warm fire, a few glasses of sarsaparilla, your hoof tracing lovingly down its spine..."

"Uh huh."

"I'll walk you home."

"Mhmm. Wait." Twilight blinked and looked at her friend questioningly. "What?"

"I said I'll walk you home. Seriously, Twi, you're like totally zoned out. You'd probably get lost on the way and end up in Canterlot or something. Besides," Dash rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. "I gotta borrow the next book in the series I'm reading."

Twilight's mind was immediately filled with visions of her friends following her home and finding her double. What would they think? Would they be angry that she had cheated them by sending half of herself out stargazing while they thought she was at their party? Would they be upset that she had done it without telling them? Worse, would they want her to cast the spell on them? She couldn't imagine a world with two Rarities or two Rainbow Dashes. She could imagine a world with two Pinkies, but she pushed the thought out of her mind as quickly as possible. She had to prevent them from finding out, at any cost.

"Can it wait until tomorrow? I'm really, really beat. From all the partying." Twilight flashed her friend a wide, unconvincing grin.

"Aw c'mon, Twi, you hardly even partied. I think I saw you dancing, like, twice!" Dash's ears drooped and she gave Twilight the saddest, most pleading look she could muster. "Please?"

"Sorry, Rainbow, I really just want to get home and sleep. I'll see you in the morning, okay?" Twilight set her empty glass aside and trotted toward the door. Her friend followed.

"Alright, but I'm still walking you home. Just to make sure you go the right way... and stuff."

"Fine," Twilight grumbled. Dash could be impossible to distract once she truly set her mind to something, as evidenced by the rate at which she was burning through the fiction section of Twilight's library. Hopefully she could convince her to leave once they were near the tree house.

Twilight nestled sleepily into her warm blanket, the eyepiece of the telescope pushed aside, and just gazed up at the wide expanse of the night sky. It had been a wonderful night. Perfect peace and quiet, not a single interruption after the incident with Derpy. Nothing but her and the stars and the planets. It was getting late, though, and she was starting to worry that she wouldn't get home before she dozed off. Actually, maybe that wouldn't be a problem. She could just wake herself up, after all.

"Spike! I'm home!" She jumped slightly at the sound of her own voice from below. Immediately, she knew something was off. It was the middle of the night; Spike would be sleeping. He probably wouldn't even wake up from the shout. The only reason she would have done that would be... to warn herself of something.

A shock of adrenaline jolted her fully awake as she heard a second voice, saying something she couldn't make out, and the sound of the front door opening. Rainbow Dash! She couldn't let her friend see her. That was obviously the reason she had called out the warning, and she trusted her own judgement. She had to get out of sight, but where could she go?

Her eyes fell on the branches of the tree above her. With no time to consider other options, she shot upward in an adrenaline-fueled leap that would have made any athlete proud. Her forelegs grasped a branch and she lifted herself into the obscuring foliage. Mere moments later, she caught a flash of rainbow mane as Dash flitted up to the second story.

"Are you sure there's nopony here? I swear I saw something move up there. And what's with the mirrors?"

"I'm sure, Rainbow, now can you please go? I really need to get to sleep."

"Alright, alright. Hey, since I'm in here anyway..."

She heard herself sigh. "Yes, Rainbow, you may borrow Black Bag versus the Everfree League."

"Thanks, Twi, you're the best!" The sounds of a pegasus carelessly rummaging through a shelf full of books were soon followed by the opening and closing of the front door. After a minute or so to make sure her newly-book-obsessed friend had left with her prize, she heard hoofsteps coming up the stairs.

"Hey, uh, me? Are you out here?" Her twin trotted outside, looking around with a frown.

"I'm right—"

Snap.

Without warning, the branch she was on cracked and bent to the floor, sending her sliding headfirst down onto her twin with a startled yelp. The mare below her cushioned her fall, letting out an exclamation of her own. A confused tangle of legs and flailing hooves ended with her staring down into her own somewhat bemused face, her double pinned beneath her.

"Sorry about that..."

"Don't worry about it. Nice, uh, hiding spot?"

"It was all I could come up with on such short notice..."

"Well, you know how Rainbow Dash is."

"Yeah."

"Yeah..."

She couldn't help but notice that she had beautiful eyes.

"So..."

"Uh..."

Twilight suddenly became sharply aware of hot breath against her lips, and the feeling of a soft coat of fur pressed against her own through the thin material of her twin's dress. The other mare seemed to notice the same thing, because they both fell silent, faces reddening slightly as they glanced down at themselves, then back up to meet each other's eyes. They gave each other an almost apologetic half-smile of embarrassment, but their muzzles gradually drifted closer together as the moment dragged on.

"Twilight?" Both mares froze at the sound of Spike's voice. "What's all the racket up here? Some people are trying to sleep, you kn—holy Princess!" The two Twilights separated with lightning speed, both stammering and blushing furiously.

"It's not what it looks like!"

"We were just—"

"She fell, and I—"

"The branch broke—"

"We weren't—"

Spike looked between the two flustered unicorns, shook his head, and turned to go back inside. "...I don't even want to know."

The sounds of the shower being run reached the two fillies' ears as they stared at each other, cheeks still flushed a deep maroon. Finally, her twin broke the silence.

"I guess I'd better get out of this dress so we can reverse the spell."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"C'mon, I'll just change in the main room. It's not like it's anything you haven't seen before." They shared a nervous giggle before trotting down the steps together. Her double's horn glowed when they reached the bottom, as she carefully unhooked the earrings and set them aside. She resisted the urge to ask if she'd had any trouble with her magic too. If the spell went as planned, there would be no need to compare notes after it had been reversed. Instead, her attention was drawn inexplicably to the sight of herself removing the yellow dress.

Despite the fact that the majority of ponies, especially those in more rural towns like Ponyville, walked around most of the time without clothing, there was something undeniably risque about dressing and undressing. Twilight let her eyes roam idly over her body as she undressed, pursing her lips in thought. She'd never really thought of herself as attractive. To be honest, she hadn't really done much thinking about her looks at all, beyond making sure that she was appropriately well-groomed for her classes at the School for Gifted Unicorns.

Seeing herself from the outside, though, she had to admit that she actually had a pretty striking figure. She was small, or petite, to use a more flattering word, and had an unabashedly... well... bookish look to her. She was admittedly a bit on the thin side, and her proportions weren't perfect; she looked like she had never quite finished growing out of her awkward adolescent years. Still, the mare she saw now carried herself in a way that spoke to her of unassuming confidence, of hidden potential, and of long hours spent trying to make everything of herself that she possibly could. In short, she saw in herself the pony she had always dreamed of being. She blushed again as her twin caught her staring.

"Shall we?" the other mare asked, trotting to one of the mirrors in the center of the magic circle. Twilight went to another, noting with some curiosity that it held no reflection as she approached it, then caught her double's eye and nodded.

"One..."

"Two..."

"Three!" Both unicorns stepped into the mirrors, and after a moment, one unicorn stepped out of the one opposite them.

Twilight Sparkle looked down at herself. She lifted her hooves, one by one, and set them back on the floor, satisfying herself that everything was in working order there. She lifted a nearby quill in her telekinesis and then released it, nodding in approval as her magic was proven still functional despite her earlier setbacks. She looked herself over in the mirror, which once again reflected her image, and verified that there had been no noticeable changes to her appearance. Hooves, check. Horn, check. Cutie mark, check.

Next, she cast back through her memories of that evening. She remembered the party. She remembered a quiet evening spent stargazing. She remembered Rainbow Dash walking her home, and she remembered hiding in the branches of the tree while she waited for the nosy pegasus to leave. She remembered Derpy delivering a package... which she had promptly forgotten all about and left on the balcony. Oh well, it could wait until tomorrow. It was probably just the rebinding supplies she had ordered for the library.

The lavender unicorn trotted happily upstairs to her bed. Today had been a good day. No, today had been two good days. And with her new spell, tomorrow could be even better.

Double Entendre

Twilight cracked one eye open to see the first rays of sunlight streaming into her room. Despite the excitement of the previous night, she had woken up at her usual time. She had a library to run, after all, and that meant keeping regular hours. Still, she allowed herself a few minutes to wallow lazily in half-wakefulness before she had to make herself ready for the new day. It was an indulgence she afforded herself far too infrequently.

One eye still closed, the lavender mare passed a foreleg through a sunbeam, turning the limb to inspect her hoof with an idle curiosity. Hoof. Hoof was a funny word, wasn’t it? Hi, hoof. She waved the hoof in the bright patch, giggling to herself as she imagined the sun’s light as the patient and loving gaze of its caretaker. Hoof, meet Celestia. She’s my teacher. She’s the best pony in the whole world.

In her imagination, her teacher smiled indulgently and gently reminded her that there could soon be ponies here wanting to read or check out books, and that she should probably get up so they wouldn’t be disappointed. She scoffed. Nopony ever came to the library before noon. Still, she supposed she should get around to waking up all the way anyway.

She sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, and sniffed the air. Was that coffee she smelled? Spike must already have put some on for her. He was such a good assistant. Her horn glowed slightly as she fumbled around mentally for the source of the smell. There! With a soft flash of light, a steaming mug appeared between her hooves, and she inhaled deeply.

“My coffee!” An indignant exclamation from downstairs interrupted the unicorn’s reverie.

Twilight blinked. Was that Rarity? She opened her door and trotted down the stairs, the mug floating behind her. “Rarity? What brings you here so early?”

The white unicorn was standing in front of one of the three mirrors Twilight had left in the main room, apparently inspecting her mane, but she turned away from her reflection as soon as she heard her friend’s voice. “Checking on you, dear. You seemed a bit preoccupied at the party last night, and I wanted to make sure everything was alright.”

Twilight giggled. “Yeah, I guess I was sort of only half there at the party, huh? But don’t worry, Rarity. Everything is fine. Great, actually. And the party was tons of fun. Uh, sorry about your coffee.” She floated the still-steaming mug over to her friend with a sheepish grin.

“Think nothing of it.” The other unicorn dismissed the apology with a wave of her hoof. “I’m the one who should be apologizing to you, imposing on yourself and your dear assistant, but since I was here anyway, I just had to have a cup of that wonderful vanilla bean blend you got from Canterlot.”

“Oh, it's no problem at all! Actually, I’m just happy to have a fellow coffee enthusiast to share it with. The others just don’t have the taste for it that you and I do.” Twilight looked thoughtful as she remembered the package that was delivered the previous night. “And actually, I think my special order finally arrived. Caramel hazelnut!” She bounced on her hooves a bit with excitement. “One moment...”

The purple mare’s horn glowed for a moment, and the package appeared between them. Taking a second to actually inspect it, however, turned her excitement into perplexity. Rather than the uniformly brown, machine-wrapped packaging and the simple logo she expected to see from her coffee supplier, this was actually a generic overnight shipping box. Its address label was mouth- or horn-written in a flowing calligraphic script, and a blob of deep blue wax imprinted with an unusual seal stood out against the otherwise plain package. It took Twilight a long moment of thinking before she recognized the complex insignia on the wax.

“Princess Luna!” the unicorn exclaimed in surprise. She pulled the box open with her magic, slivers of force neatly cutting through the strips of packing tape that sealed it. “But what would she be sending me?”

Inside the box were two items. The majority of the space was taken up by a thick book with a simple, dark red cover, which depicted two stylized rearing ponies facing one another. On top of it was a letter written in the same flowing script that she now realized was the Night Princess’s hornwriting. Rarity politely returned her attention to the mirrors, a gesture which made Twilight giggle softly.

“Oh Rarity, you’re allowed to read it. Princess Luna is your friend too, you know!”

“Ah, well, if you’re sure it’s not private,” the white unicorn conceded. “I just thought, what with you being so close to the Princesses...” The other mare trailed off.

“I’m sure,” Twilight agreed. “There’s nothing between myself and the Princesses that I can’t share with my friends.” She was, inexplicably, reminded of Dash’s friendly jab at the party. “Nothing,” the unicorn reiterated firmly. “Now, let’s see what it says.” She lifted the letter, smiling to herself as she began to read. Princess Luna had clearly taken her suggestions about modernizing her speech to heart, and it showed in her writing.

To my dearest friend Twilight Sparkle,

Firstly, I must apologize for the long silence in our correspondence. As you know, our encounter on Nightmare Night inspired me to attempt to reacquaint myself with the ponies who I ostensibly rule over. As such, I have been devoting a large portion of my waking hours to participating in my sister’s Day Court, as well as catching up on the “softer” literature available in our library. You might not know this, but I was quite the connoisseur of fiction in my younger centuries. I find that it gives me insights into pony nature that are normally hidden from me by the masks of royalty.

This brings me, as you may have guessed, to the reason for this letter. When you gave me the tour of your library, I could not help but notice that it contained almost exclusively reference books, histories, and adventure stories. While I certainly cannot hold you at fault for your commendable scholarly pursuits, and have also been greatly enjoying the many adventures of Daring Do, I found myself thinking that your selection could use a bit more variety. In addition to providing you with an interesting change of pace, it might help draw the interest of more of the townsponies to your library, a problem which I recall you mentioning several times in previous letters.

Enclosed is one of my personal favorites, a romance called The Prim Rose of Palomino Vale. It is a story which I first read many centuries ago, but I believe that its quality has stood the test of time. Strangely, it seems that other ponies disagree, as I had to extend my search to a most disreputable-looking bookshop in Lower Canterlot to find a recent printing. Nonetheless, I have faith that you will enjoy it. I have also taken the liberty of composing a list of similar material that you may be interested in. It can be found on the back of this scroll.

Yours in friendship,
Luna

Twilight let out a breath as she reached the bottom of the parchment. The Princess was improving, but she was still more than a bit on the wordy side. She glanced over at her friend to see her eyeing the red-bound book with no small amount of curiosity. “Is something wrong, Rarity?” The other unicorn jumped slightly.

“O-oh, no, it’s just that I’ve never seen a hardcov—I mean, I’ve never seen this... particular book before,” the mare stammered. “N-not that I would expect to know about every romance out there, of course. It’s perfectly natural that there would some I hadn’t heard of, many even, I...”

“Relax, Rarity,” Twilight giggled. “We all know you’ve read just about every romance that’s ever been printed. So did you like this one?” She lifted up the tome and opened to the first page curiously, then jumped as Rarity’s magic pushed the book shut again.

“Oh, n-no, it’s awful!” the flustered unicorn said quickly. “I’m quite sure that you’d absolutely hate it. It’s not your type of story at all.”

“Er, alright. Still, I wouldn’t be a very good friend if I didn’t at least give it a try.” Twilight looked askance at her friend. “Is everything alright, Rarity? You’re acting strange all of a sudden.”

“Of course, dear, it’s just that... Why do you have all these mirrors, anyway?” Twilight could detect a frantic subject change as well as the next pony, but she let it go, not wanting to pry too hard into whatever was bothering the other unicorn. “I can understand your wanting to liven up the place a bit, but their positioning really leaves something to be desired.”

“Oh, well um, it’s...” The lavender unicorn cast about for a moment, then on a sudden inspiration, grabbed a recently-shelved book from nearby. “Feng Shui! I was trying to, um, spread around the qi.” She fixed her friend with a wide, hopeful smile. Rarity arched an eyebrow, but dropped the subject.

“Well, anyway, I’m glad to see that you’re... quite yourself, Twilight, but I had better be going. It will be time to open the boutique soon.”

“Of course! Thank you so much for stopping by, Rarity.”

The two unicorns exchanged a few more slightly awkward pleasantries, then Rarity made her exit. Twilight settled down at her desk, setting down the book and summoning her quill, ink, and parchment.

“Let’s see. Today’s shopping day, so I’ll need to make a trip to the market. I promised Rarity last night I’d model some of her new Canterlot fashion line for her. I should probably figure out where that coffee shipment is...” The lavender unicorn hummed to herself as she worked on enumerating her tasks for the day, her rapidly-moving quill surrounded by a purple aura. Within a few minutes she had completed the list, and she set it aside and turned to do the one thing she hadn’t written down.

The three mirrors stood in the center of her library, evidence of the powerful magic she had cast the previous day. That wouldn’t do at all. Rarity was right about them being an eyesore, anyway. She’d have to move them somewhere else. Of course, that meant she’d have to set them back up before she could perform her spell again. She had so much to do today, and the red-bound novel on her desk called to her with the irresistible siren song of unread text...

Alerted by the sound of a spell being cast, Spike came out of the kitchen to find Twilight surrounded by glowing diamond dust.

“Aw, not again...”

Twilight Sparkle stepped into one of the trio of mirrors. Twilight Sparkle and Twilight Sparkle stepped out the other side. The runes faded, then disappeared. The twin unicorns turned to each other.

“I’ll read the book?”

“And I’ll take care of today’s to-do list.”

The two mares grinned at each other, put their right hooves together in a high-hoof, then turned to the mirrors.

“But first, let’s get these down to the basement.”

The sun was already setting by the time Twilight checked off the last item on her list. Apparently her special order of coffee had been misdelivered to Fillysburg by the Canterlot post office, and it would be several days before it arrived. It was a real shame, too, because she really needed some right now. She was absolutely exhausted from the day’s adventures.

She didn’t mind having to be the one to go out and do the day’s work. She was technically also at home reading her new book, after all. Plus, it had been a fun day. She had to admit that, despite her general disinclination toward fashion, she did like dressing up once in a while, so she’d honestly enjoyed herself at Rarity’s boutique. A visit to Fluttershy’s cottage had turned out very interesting when she discovered that her pegasus friend was in possession of a hitherto unknown subspecies of flying squirrel. Even the trip to the market had become more exciting than anticipated when a certain trio of young fillies picked that day to try for their “parkour” cutie marks. Twilight smiled slightly at the memory. The three fillies had been just fine after they were untangled from the mess of canvas they’d found themselves in.

As she trotted toward her front door, she noticed that the light was on in her room. She must have moved up there after regular library hours had ended, to enjoy the book in the comfort of her bed. It must have been as good as Princess Luna said, then. Her smile turned into a grin, but that quickly faded as she opened the door and met a haggard-looking Spike.

“Twilight, thank Celestia you’re here!” the little dragon cried, throwing himself onto the ground at her hooves. “She, I mean you, haven’t... uh hasn’t... her... or I guess it’s your room... argh! Help!”

Twilight gently levitated her frazzled assistant over to his bed. “Easy, Spike. I’ll take care of it. And you mean, ‘The other you hasn’t come out of your room,’ right?” Spike nodded miserably.

“Since lunch. She skipped dinner entirely.”

“Alright. You just get some sleep, okay? It’s past your bedtime.” The unicorn gently took Spike’s blanket in her teeth and drew it up over the little dragon, and he nodded again, yawning widely.

“Thanks, Twilight. I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t come back.”

Twilight giggled. “Good thing there are two of me then, huh?” But her assistant had already fallen asleep. She shrugged and lifted her saddlebags off, setting them aside before she trotted up the stairs. Her door was locked, so she took the extra key she kept under the nearby bookshelf and quietly let herself in, then relocked it behind her.

Her room was surprisingly warm, and completely silent, except for her soft breathing and that of the other lavender unicorn. Her twin was sitting on the small bed, her back to her, apparently not having noticed her yet. The book lay open in front of her, about three quarters finished. A soft purple glow blossomed around the book, and the silence was broken by the gentle hiss of paper against paper as a page turned. Twilight crossed the room and peered over the other unicorn’s shoulder to get a closer look.

Then she did take within her thee full lengthe of hys loins, which were as she notedd previously of as great girth as hys muscles, which flex’d and rippl’d as he began to—

Twilight blinked and took a step back, as if to distance herself from what she had just read. The sound startled her twin, who froze, eyes going wide and pupils contracting in shock. The other unicorn’s head whipped around, horn already glowing with a spell, before she realized that it was herself.

“O-oh. Hi...”

“Uh, heheh, hi. Didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” Twilight gave herself a reassuring grin, which the other seemed to accept, relaxing and releasing the magic she had been holding. “So, the book...”

“The book,” her twin agreed.

“It’s very...”

“Very.”

She motioned for the other mare to move over to make room for her, and settled down beside her after she complied. She quickly scanned through the rest of the page, and confirmed her initial suspicions.

“It’s awful.”

“Yeah. It really is.”

“Some of it can be attributed to the archaic grammar and spelling conventions, or the lack thereof...”

“...but some of it is just awful.”

Twilight looked over to her twin with a mischievous grin. The other unicorn returned it. Ending the spell could wait.

The light coming from the room on the second floor of the library didn’t go out until the early hours of the morning. From within came hushed whispers, giggles, snorts, occasional bursts of outright laughter, and the soft sound of pages turning.

Extra Content
Excerpt from The Prim Rose of Palomino Vale - Do you really want to read this?
Warnings: Heterosexual horse sex, a dark and stormy night, oscillating pillars.

The Bit Drops

The next morning found Twilight humming idly to her reflection as she ran a gold-handled brush through her mane and tail. Her reflection was, in turn, doing the same for her. Being unable to reflect in their bedroom mirror, they had quickly settled on the next best thing: each other. After all, nopony knew better than her exactly how she wanted her hair done.

“Perfect,” she murmured, smiling at the other.

“Me, or my hair?” the other said, giggling softly.

Twilight pondered the question for a moment, her magic reaching out to straighten a single out-of-place strand with a gentle tug. “Both,” she finally answered.

The other let out a soft giggle again, and Twilight met her eyes. They were her own eyes: a rich, deep violet, like the end of Celestia’s most beautiful sunset, and—hah—sparkling with an unmeasurable intelligence. She winced inwardly at her own pun. Outwardly, her gaze held her twin’s, and their muzzles drifted closer.

A hoof touched her lips, stopping her, and she dropped her gaze guiltily.

“No kissing,” the other murmured. “We agreed.”

“We agreed,” she acknowledged a little sadly. Her ears lost a bit of their stiffness, lowering toward her head as she began a quiet sigh.

Her twin’s cheek brushed against hers, making her jump. The sigh became a startled intake of breath, and her ears lifted back up as she felt warm breath against her neck.

“But nuzzles are okay,” the other said softly, perhaps even a little throatily. “Sisters nuzzle.” A blush began to spread across Twilight’s cheeks as she instinctively tilted her head to the side. Firm, warm lips trailed their way to the front of her neck, making her gasp as a shiver shot down her spine.

“S-sisters don’t nuzzle like that!” she protested breathlessly.

“Well, we’re not exactly sisters either, are we?” The other unicorn’s half-lidded gaze met Twilight’s, and she saw that the spark in her eyes had become a fire. A fire that was burning for her.

Someone knocked on the door.

The two unicorns separated guiltily. “What is it, Spike?” they said in unison, then looked at each other in surprise, and laughed.

“You got another letter from the Princess,” the dragon said from the other side of the door. “It says...” Twilight perked her ears forward with a frown. Was that muffled whispering she heard? “It says that she never received your last friendship report, and...” There was more whispering. “...that she’s very dis—”

Twilight’s bedroom door flew open with the distinctive crunch of a powerful spellcaster forgetting about a deadbolt.

“Let me see that!” A pair of frantic purple unicorns surrounded Spike. Both fixed him with a piercing stare when they realized he wasn’t holding a letter, as if their eyes might be able to bore into his soul and reveal the alleged message’s location. Then the little dragon was given at least a temporary reprieve as the two were startled by a burst of raucous laughter. They turned their heads in unison, shifting their gazes to its extremely colorful source.

Rainbow Dash was laughing uproariously, pounding a hoof against—of all things—a cloud that was for some reason floating in the middle of the library’s main room. “That was priceless, Twilight! You should have seen the look on your face... es...” The pegasus trailed off, blinking. “Whoa. You weren’t kidding, Spike. There are seriously two of her.”

“See?” The dragon crossed his arms smugly. “I told you.”

“That is so awe—”

“Rainbow Dash! You get that cloud out of my library this instant!” Before Dash could finish her sentence, both unicorns were down the stairs. Apparently not satisfied with waiting for her to respond, the pair took matters into their own hooves, horns flashing with magic. The cloud was obliterated by a sharp gust of wind, and its remains were telekinetically ushered out an open window.

The suddenly-seatless pegasus flared her wings as she dropped to the ground, slowing her fall enough to retain her dignity, landing smoothly. “Jeez, Twi,” she grumbled. “You don’t have to get all cranky about it.”

Twilight fixed her with two glares. “The moisture could have damaged the books. What were you even doing with that thing, anyway?”

Dash shrugged, looking warily between the twin unicorns. “Didn’t feel like flying around this early in the morning, but Spike dragged me in here when he found me. So I figured, hey, no reason I have to leave my cloud for this. Sure, I’ve still gotta use my wings to provide the initial momentum and to turn, but not having to fight gravity means not constantly having to exert upward force, so it really comes down to me versus air resistance at that point. And a cloud doesn’t exactly add that much extra mass I gotta move either, so... Bam! Instant easy travel for awesome pegasi.”

Twilight blinked, and out of the corner of her eye, noticed the same perplexed look on her twin’s face that she guessed was on hers. “That’s a... surprisingly technical explanation,” she offered.

Rainbow Dash huffed. “I may not know all your egghead stuff, Twi, but I’m a pegasus. I know flying. Anyway!” She perked back up. “The doubling thing! Would it work on other ponies? No, hold that thought. I gotta tell our friends about this. Just have it ready for me when I get back!”

Twilight tried to protest, but the rainbow-maned speedster was already out the door, and she got nothing but a few polychromatic strands of hair as the pegasus’s tail slipped through her magical grasp. She stared after her retreating friend in shocked silence for a moment, then rounded on Spike.

“Spike! What in the name of harmony were you... Spike?” There was no Spike. The little dragon had wisely taken the opportunity to vanish, and the two Twilights were left alone in the library.

Her twin sighed. “We don’t have time for this. We’ll never get the dig site cleared out if we get stuck here explaining this to our friends.”

Twilight nodded in agreement.

A few minutes later, a cyan pegasus entered the library, followed by four friends, but they found no one there but Spike.

The flash of a short-range teleportation spell lit the ever-present gloom of the edge of the Everfree Forest. A pair of lavender unicorns, each outfitted with matching purple saddlebags, began to trot down the path side-by-side. After a few minutes of silence, the one without the pith helmet spoke.

“How come you get to wear the hat?”

“Because you got to write the checklist,” the other answered firmly.

“...I suppose that’s fair.”

Silence reigned again for a few minutes. The branches above were thick enough now that there would be little visible difference between day and night. The unicorn without the helmet concentrated for a moment, and a small ball of light appeared, floating just ahead of the pair. Her companion glanced over at her.

“Do you think we did the right thing?”

“Of course we did. This is a very important archaeological expedition, and if we’re late with our survey, the entire schedule will be thrown off.”

“No, I mean about our friends. Not just... telling them in the first place.”

“Oh.” The other unicorn paused, then, “I don’t know. It’s too late now, though. They’re going to figure out that we’ve been hiding this from them for a while now, then it’s only a matter of time until they realize I was only half at the party, and only half hanging out with them...”

“I’m an awful friend,” the helmeted one said, sighing.

“Yeah,” her companion replied. “I am.”

Both ponies returned to silence. The path ahead of them gradually opened up into sunlight again, then abruptly halted in a jagged cliff edge. They trotted up to the edge, peered over it, and nodded in satisfaction. Landmark #1 was right where they had left it.

“It was a good idea Dash had, though,” one offered. “With the cloud.”

The other nodded, and her horn began to glow. Her companion’s hat glowed, the light of her magic shining out from under it. The moisture in the air began to gather together, and soon a fairly large cloud floated before them. The two hopped onto the makeshift platform, their hooves connecting firmly with the spongy surface. A slight push of magic sent the cloud drifting slowly down toward the ground below with its passengers.

“Sisters, huh?” the helmeted pony asked.

“Sort of...” the other replied.

“But not exactly.”

“No, not exactly. I... guess I understand why you don’t want to kiss though.”

“It’s just... weird. The whole idea of loving yourself. Touching is one thing, that’s just...”

“That’s just touching yourself.” Both mares blushed at the unfortunate choice of words.

“Right. But kissing is... kissing is different.”

The scenery drifted lazily by as the cloud floated along. It had almost reached the ground when the unicorns realized that things would not be going according to plan much longer.

“There wasn’t a nest of manticores at the bottom of this cliff last time,” commented the one without the hat.

“No, there wasn’t,” the other answered.

“And I think our cloud is about to fall apart.”

“I think so too.”

“You should probably teleport us. I’m still tired from the last one.”

A pained look crossed the face of the unicorn with the hat. “...I can’t.”

“What?!”

“I can’t. I think I used too much magic on the cloudwalking spell.”

“Oh feathers.”

The cloud below them picked that moment to dissipate into its component moisture droplets. With matching shrieks, which likely did nothing but further disturb the manticores below, the two ponies plummeted the remaining distance to the ground.

Twilight Sparkle ran. Sweat matted her hair and soaked her coat and stung her eyes, and her sides heaved with her panicked gasps. Unicorns, she had quickly concluded, were not built to outrun manticores. Librarians were definitely not built to outrun manticores. She risked a glance back and saw her companion, pith helmet fallen down almost over her eyes, galloping a few feet behind her. And less than a hundred feet behind that, manticores. Angry, territorial manticores.

“Come on,” she panted. “Only a little farther to the bridge.”

“And then what?” Her twin tossed her head to try to adjust her helmet. “Manticores can fly!” The motion only succeeded in jamming the brim down further, and the unicorn let out a cry of panic as her world went black.

Without missing a step, Twilight lifted her twin in her magic and set her on her back. “Then we follow Plan B!” she said through gritted teeth.

“I thought Plan B was to run!”

“It is!” She could see blackness creeping into the edges of her vision. The burning in her muscles had started to recede, giving way to a cold numbness. Paradoxically, her sense of smell seemed to have heightened as she ran. But the earthy scents of the forest around her were blotted out by a sharp metallic smell, like ozone after a lightning strike. She recognized the signs of magical exhaustion just as her rider stiffened and let out a strangled shout.

“Turn left!”

Only by sheer dumb luck did her skidding hooves avoid the great chasm separating them from the ruins of the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters. She banked sharply left, and precious seconds were lost as she galloped along the edge of the chasm toward the bridge. She twisted as she reached the bridge, stumbled, then surged forward onto it, only narrowly dodging a swipe by the lead manticore. She heard the sound of their pursuers’ leathery wings beating behind them, but her vision was filled by the wooden planks of the bridge beneath her hooves.

She felt the familiar tug of magic being used nearby, and heard the fizzle of a weakening shield spell. “Do we have a Plan C?” she asked shakily.

“Yeah,” the unicorn on her back panted. “Them.”

Twilight looked up to see two huge birds lifting themselves out of the center of the ruins. They were clearly birds of prey, from their hooked beaks to their sword-like talons, but no bird of prey she had ever seen before had a fifty-foot wingspan. The creatures were massive, and beautiful, and deadly, and then they were diving right toward them. Twilight flattened herself to the ground, and her twin tumbled off her back into the dirt with a yelp. They both winced as the birds passed above them, then they heard the yowls of their pursuers as the rocs attacked. The two unicorns scrambled back to their hooves and risked a look behind them.

“That was Plan C?” Twilight asked flatly. “Fight angry territorial monsters with more angry territorial monsters?”

“Mhmm,” her double confirmed with a nod. “That’s... uh oh.” One of the rocs, sharp ears catching the sounds of their conversation, turned an eye toward them.

“Plan B!” Twilight made to break into a renewed gallop, but her weary muscles finally gave out. She tumbled back toward the ground, but was caught in the purple aura of her magic. Her twin set her firmly on her back and bolted in the only direction available to them: toward the ruins.

It was their good fortune that, although much of the castle had been destroyed by time and the unpredictable weather of the Everfree, they were near an area of relatively intact architecture. In fact, Twilight noticed through her dimming vision that it was not far from the place where she and her friends had defeated Nightmare Moon.

Her friends... if only they were here.

“Hang in there,” the other unicorn panted. They angled toward an archway that lead into what appeared to have been a dining hall of sorts. The roc halted at the entrance, unable to fit through after them, and began tearing at the time-weakened stonework in an effort to widen the door. Her twin continued running, carrying them deeper into the ruin.

The thought suddenly struck Twilight that she, or rather her other self, was now the bearer of a bearer of an Element of Harmony. For some reason, that seemed incredibly funny under the circumstances, and she started to giggle. Her bearer—a bearer bearer, she thought with a renewed bout of giggling—turned her head to look at her in confusion.

“What... the hay...” The question was interrupted by a dead end ahead of them. A single door, apparently made of thick iron and quite intact, stood at end of the hall.

And it was unlocked. Twilight’s double pulled it open and hurried through into the small, empty room beyond, Twilight still giggling happily to herself on her back, then slammed it shut behind them. There was a deadbolt, so she slid that into place for good measure. Then she turned again, fixing Twilight with a stern glare.

“Off.”

Twilight’s giggling stopped abruptly and her ears drooped, but she obeyed, sliding off her twin’s back and rolling onto the cold stone floor, letting out a small squeak of complaint as the chilly surface drew the heat through her damp coat. She let out a louder squeak when, with alarming swiftness, the other unicorn pounced, pinning her to the ground on her back with a hoof on her chest.

Twilight gazed down at her twin, still breathing heavily from the heady mixture of endorphins and adrenaline during their flight. The other unicorn’s chest rose and fell under her hoof, her breathing ragged and shallow. She peered into the violet eyes of the mare under her, searching, watching as they flicked back and forth, focusing on her one moment, then staring off through her the next.

There it was. Just as she had suspected, her double was being eaten alive by magical exhaustion.

“Wh-what?” the other mare murmured sleepily. “Is there something on my face?” Her eyes crossed briefly. “Oh, it’s my horn!” She burst into giggles again, only to be stifled by Twilight’s hoof.

“Ssh,” Twilight said firmly, shaking her head. “You really overdid it this time, Twilight Sparkle. You’re lucky I’m here.” Her twin’s eyes widened in alarm as her confused mind finally realized the extent of her condition, but Twilight shook her head again. “Shh,” she repeated. “You’ll be okay. Just lie still.”

The other mare nodded, slowly relaxing under her, and Twilight lowered her head. Their horns touched, first near the tip, then sliding down until the base of each unicorn’s horn made contact with the other’s forehead. Their eyes met again, then Twilight released her hold on her magic.

To her twin, it was probably a glorious, invigorating feeling, like stepping into a cool waterfall on a hot day, washing away the tiredness and the fog over her mind. To Twilight, it felt like having a piece of herself torn away and pulled out through her horn. Maybe a kidney, or a lung. She collapsed onto her double with a gasp.

A pair of forelegs slipped around her after a minute of silence, and she lifted her head to gaze at herself. She was smiling, and there was a look in her eye she hadn’t seen before.

“I could say thank you,” the mare murmured.

Relief flooded through Twilight as she inspected her twin. The other unicorn’s gaze was focused again, and her breathing was returning to normal. It had worked. She returned the smile with one of her own. “But you already know you’re welcome.”

“Mhmm.”

“So, do we have a Plan D?”

“Nope. We’re pretty much stuck here until the big bird gives up on getting to us.”

“Probably until nighttime, if we want to be safe. They’re diurnal, right?”

“Right. Until then we’re...” The unicorn underneath her paused with a coy smile. “Would you forgive me if I said, ‘stuck between a roc and a hard place?’ ”

Twilight considered the question for a moment, a serious expression on her face, before her lips curled into a smirk. “Only if you forgive me for one cliché.”

“Oh? And which one would that be?”

“ ‘Shut up and kiss me.’ “

She did. Twilight leaned down, and her twin lifted her head, their muzzles meeting and their breath mixing in the stale air of the room. The other mare was surprisingly aggressive, and Twilight began to wonder if she had allowed a bit too much of her energy to transfer.

She didn’t have long to wonder. A warm, wet tongue pressed against her lips, and as she parted them to express her surprise, her mouth was filled with its eager presence. Her own tongue fought against it, and every motion sent a shock of excitement through her body. She could tell it was having a similar effect on her twin, the other unicorn gasping softly in time with her. The forelegs wrapped around her midsection tightened. She responded enthusiastically, falling into the embrace of the mare below her.

If this was how it was going to be, Twilight Sparkle was fully prepared to give as good as she got. So to speak.

Mirror Dearest

At some point during that long, wonderful afternoon, the little room had transformed. The fading light of the setting sun cast an orange glow through the single small window, and the cold stones of the floor and walls had been warmed by the body heat of the two mares they surrounded. The dusty staleness had been swept out of the air, and the thick, tangy scent of their... togetherness hung heavily in its place. But these things were not what made the room different.

What was now so remarkable about this room was that it would be, forevermore, the place where Twilight Sparkle had first truly given her heart to another pony. Even if that other pony was, technically, herself.

She realized, in this one perfect moment where she watched the fading light of the setting sun reflect in her twin’s lavender eyes, that she had been a fool her entire life. For a unicorn as studious, as supposedly intelligent as herself, it was a particularly shocking revelation. But that didn’t make it any less true.

All of her life, she had missed it. Every crush she’d had, every stallion she’d blushed over, every mare she’d shot surreptitious glances at. It had all been because she’d seen a bit of herself in them.

She’d never been a normal pony. Not once, since that fateful Summer Sun Celebration, had she settled for anything less than perfection. She’d pushed her every limit until it broke, retaken every test until she got a perfect score, studied every spell until its casting was as natural as breathing. It had rarely been easy, but it had always, always been worth it. Perfection wasn’t just what she did. It was who she was.

She’d been a fool to think that romance should be any different. But she knew it now. Her perfect match... was herself.

“Feeling better?” she asked her twin with a gentle smile. The other unicorn nodded, leaning forward, and after a soft nuzzle, Twilight’s mouth was once again filled with warmth and the taste of her lover’s tongue. Her lover! It made her heart flutter to just think it. It was a brief kiss, but it was warm, and deep, and every moment of it sent a thrill through Twilight that was like nothing she’d ever felt before today.

“Much better,” the other unicorn answered after they separated. “Do you think it’s safe to go outside yet? The rocs should be bedded down by now.”

Twilight considered it for a moment, then nodded. “As long as we’re quiet. They might not be asleep yet.”

“We could always stay here a little longer...” They both giggled at that. Then, by unspoken agreement, they separated and stood.

“Yeah, as much... fun as that would be, best to get out of the forest while there’s still light. And nothing says we can’t pick back up where we left off once we get home.” She gave her twin a coy glance, which prompted another round of giggles.

“Except that our friends will probably be there waiting for us,” her twin said with a sigh.

Twilight’s ears flicked back. “Oh. Right. That.”

“We could stay here overnight. They’d probably have gone home by tomorrow.”

Twilight shook her head. “By tomorrow they’ll have sent out search parties. Anyway, we’ll run out of food. We didn’t pack a breakfast. And I—we—get really cranky if we don’t get breakfast.”

“Well, what if we go back to Ponyville, but hide outside the library until they leave?”

“Might work. But they’ll probably leave somepony there in case we try it.”

“How about a diversion? One of us could lead them away while the other gets into the library and locks all the doors and windows, then the diversion could teleport back in and—”

“Or ya’ll could try just talkin’ to us about it,” a familiar voice interrupted them. Both unicorns froze and turned toward the window, which darkened as their orange friend peered in at them. “Are you two stuck in there or somethin’? We were gettin’ worried you weren’t comin’ back.”

“Yes, well uh you see, we—” Twilight began, but was interrupted by a thump and an exclamation of surprise from Applejack. A yellow face replaced the orange one in the window.

“Ohmygosh, Twilight, are you okay? Are you hurt? Oh, we were so worried about you! Don’t worry, we’ll get you out!” There was the scraping sound of hooves digging against stone as Fluttershy immediately made good on the promise.

“We’re fine, Fluttershy,” Twilight reassured her friend quickly. “And we can get out. The door works fine.” The scraping paused, and Fluttershy eyed them uncertainly, concern painted across her features.

“Are you sure? You’re not hurt? Either of you?” the pegasus asked. “Oh, well... that’s... that’s good then...” The room brightened as she backed away from the window. “I’ll just be... out here... sorry...” Her voice trailed off into an embarrassed silence. Twilight glanced at her twin, and they shared a look that communicated as clearly as any words. It was too late to run now.

“We’ll be right out. You two stay there, and stay quiet. There are rocs nesting in these ruins, and we don’t want to attract their attention.” A soft squeak from Fluttershy acknowledged the instruction, and Twilight slid open the iron door’s deadbolt and pulled it open.

Twilight stared self-consciously at the ground as they trotted along the path out of the ruins. Applejack walked on one side of the pair of unicorns, and Fluttershy on the other. Rather like guards, she thought to herself glumly. A flash of color in the corner of her eye told her that Rainbow Dash had joined their little party.

“They’re on their way back,” the pegasus announced. Even her normally-brash demeanor was muted, although whether it was by the mood or the encroaching darkness of nightfall, Twilight couldn’t be sure. “Pinkie got distracted trying to harvest a patch of poison joke.”

Applejack probably nodded in answer, because the conversation ended with that. Twilight kept her gaze firmly on the ground in front of her, her thoughts closing in on her again in the silence. Soon, two more sets of hoofbeats joined the group’s.

Her friends would understand, she tried to assure herself. They’d stuck with her through her worst times, cheered her on during her best, and even stood beside her against a god of chaos. And they obviously didn’t have any problem with romance between mares, by the way they always joked about it. And aside from that, this wasn’t really that different than any other romance. Was it?

Of course, there was also the spell itself. She had only half gone to their party, which didn’t seem fair to them at all. And hiding the whole thing from them like that, surely they’d be angry at her for that. She glanced over at her twin, who she found had been looking in her direction. Their eyes met briefly, then they cast their gazes back downward, embarrassed. Accepting or not, she decided, this was going to be all sorts of awkward to explain.

The gloom began to lift as they approached the forest’s edge. Luna’s nearly full moon was just starting to peek over the horizon, and as its light chased away the darkness of the Everfree, the atmosphere between the seven ponies lightened as well. Applejack was the first to speak.

“Alright, Twi,” the orange mare said. “I ain’t doubtin’ Spike’s word or anythin’, but I really gotta hear this one from the horse’s mouth. So let me get this straight.” Twilight wilted under the sudden scrutiny of all five of her friends. “You wanted to be able to hang out with us without givin’ up on what you wanted to do either. Fair enough. But rather than askin’ us to move the party, which we were havin’ for you in the first place, you stayed up all night inventin’ a brand new spell.”

Twilight blushed and kept her eyes trained strictly on the ground. “...Yeah.”

“A spell that’s never been seen before, never been tested, and there ain’t anythin’ like it in any of yer books,” Applejack continued.

“...Yeah.” The dirt under Twilight’s hooves had quickly become the most interesting thing in Equestria.

“A spell that’d probably have killed you if you so much as sneezed wrong while you were castin’ it.”

“...Well... yeah...” It really was absolutely fascinating soil. It was probably excellent for... soil things.

“And, without even stoppin’ to catch up on sleep first, you cast it.”

Twilight didn’t deny it, instead opting to remain silent, but her ears flattened back against her head in shame.

“And it worked perfectly.”

“Well, I did triple-check all my calculations,” Twilight mumbled defensively. “Twice.”

They trotted along in silence for a minute, then Applejack chuckled wryly. “Yep. That’s our Twilight.”

Twilight looked up sharply. Instead of the expected anger, all she saw was a slightly weary warmth in the expression of the earth pony beside her. “You’re... not mad,” she stated hesitantly, testing out the words.

“Nah, Twi. We ain’t mad. We’re just glad we found you before you got yerself into too much trouble out here. Ain’t that right, girls?”

There was a chorus of agreement from the others, with one exception. Fluttershy was trotting along in silence, a pensive expression on her face.

“Ain’t that right, Fluttershy?” Applejack prompted again.

The yellow pegasus squeaked guiltily, as if she’d been caught eavesdropping. “Y-yes definitely!” she said quickly. “Um. Twilight?”

“Hmm?” Both unicorns answered.

“Well, it’s just... would that... could you do that with other ponies, too?”

Her twin answered first. “Well, yes. Certain ponies, at least. It takes an awful lot of energy out of the pony it’s cast on, because it all gets split in half when the spell takes effect. But assuming they had enough magical energy for two, so they didn’t just, y’know, die in the process, then yes.”

“...Oh.” That seemed to end that line of inquiry, as far as Fluttershy was concerned.

“Not to mention it takes a lot of energy out of the caster,” Twilight added. “Creating matter isn’t cheap, you know. We’d have to be strong enough to actually cast it again. Which we aren’t. Not without a solid week of hearty meals and bed rest.” Or canceling her own spell, she thought to herself. But there wasn’t a chance in Tartarus of that happening now.

“Well that’s a shame,” Applejack said with a chuckle. “Applebuck season’s comin’ up, and Ah could use another good set of buckin’ legs around the farm.”

“And I could totally use a training partner,” Rainbow Dash put in. “We could do a double sonic rainboom. Bam! That would be awesome, wouldn’t that be awesome, Twi?”

“If by ‘awesome’, you mean ‘mass destruction’,” Twilight said dubiously. Rainbow Dash looked undeterred.

“It would be nice to always have a model on hoof when I’m designing,” Rarity said thoughtfully. “And somepony to bounce ideas off of.”

“And I—”

“No.” Twilight was unsurprised to notice that five other voices had joined hers in unanimous denial. “No, Pinkie,” she continued, “We will not cast that spell on you. Not. Ever.”

“Awww.”

The group was silent for a moment while Pinkie pouted. As they neared their destination, which had apparently been Twilight’s library, Applejack spoke again.

“Hey, Twi...”

“Yeah, Applejack?” both answered, then a glance from her twin told Twilight to continue.

“When we were out workin’ on yer tree, you asked me about... lovin’ yerself...”

Twilight’s heart sank. “...Yeah?” she answered warily.

“You an’... yerself... ya’ll ain’t...”

Twilight froze, and the group came to a halt, all eyes on the two purple unicorns.

“You aren’t!” Dash exclaimed. “Seriously?!”

Twilight cast a glance at her twin, who blushed, but stepped closer to her, until their sides pressed together. Taking strength in her closeness, and the touch, Twilight swallowed and nodded, bracing herself for her friends to berate her, to tell her it was wrong, to just turn around and leave without saying a word, to...

None of their expressions were angry. Fluttershy was blushing slightly, but smiling. Rarity’s eyes were widened with what, if Twilight hadn’t known better, she might have thought was delight. Applejack had that same wry half-smile again. Rainbow Dash was failing to suppress a growing grin, and Pinkie wasn’t even trying to hide hers. Pinkie, predictably, was the one to break the silence.

“I’ll get the party supplies!”

Somehow, that was worse.

Double Trouble

The main room of Sugarcube Corner had been cleared in preparation for a party. A makeshift stage had been set up, a plywood affair with a set of red curtains, and a single microphone at the center of it. Shades had been drawn down over all the windows, doing their best to block out the light from the sun outside. But even in the dim light that filtered through, the bright colors of ribbons, streamers, and balloons were clearly visible. Most of them were some shade of purple.

A spotlight switched on, lighting up the center of the small stage. A pink pony slipped out from behind the curtains and stepped up to the microphone. She was dressed smartly, a black and white tuxedo contrasting the color of her coat and mane. Clearing her throat once, tapping the microphone twice, Pinkie Pie put on a wide smile and addressed her audience.

“Mares and gentlestallions, fillies and colts! May I have your attention please! I present to you... the one... the only... Twolight Sparkle!”

Silence reigned for a moment, then...

“No.” Twilight shook her head wearily, and glanced over at her twin and fellow audience member. The other Twilight was shaking her head as well. Pinkie Pie, unperturbed, disappeared again behind the curtains. The spotlight went out.

A spotlight switched on, lighting up the center of the small stage. A pink pony bounced out from behind the curtains and came to a stop behind the microphone. A pair of comically-large glasses were perched on her muzzle, and attached to the glasses were a false nose (From what sort of creature? Twilight wondered briefly) and a thick, bushy moustache. Clearing her throat once, tapping the microphone twice, Pinkie Pie put on a wide smile and addressed her audience.

“So, I just flew into Ponyville,” Pinkie announced, giving her audience a conspiratorial wink from behind the oversized glasses. “And boy are my wings tired!” A pause. “Anypony? Nopony? Okay, here’s one for you: What’s the only thing better than Twilight Sparkle?”

“No.” Twilight shook her head. Beside her, her twin did the same. Pinkie Pie, unperturbed, disappeared behind the curtains. The spotlight went out. Sugarcube Corner went dark again.

It had taken almost fifteen minutes the previous night to convince Pinkie that “immediately” probably wasn’t the best time for her “Twilight Sparkle found a very special somepony oh and also there are two of her now” party, after the day they had all had. It had taken another thirty to fend off their friends’ barrage of questions and get the library to themselves again. But their all-too-brief respite was over now. Today, Pinkie was in Party Planning Mode, and she wasn’t going to stop until she found the perfect way to introduce the new couple to Ponyville. All of Ponyville, if possible. They had tried arguing the point, but Pinkie had been adamant. There would be no more hiding in the library for the Twilights Sparkle.

Well, it would be nice to be able to go out in public together. Twilight sighed, and returned her attention to the stage.

Soft lights illuminated the stage. A tall white mitre appeared from behind the curtains, balanced precariously on the head of a small pink pony. Pinkie Pie stepped forward to the microphone, cleared her throat once, and addressed her audience.

“Dearest friends and family, we are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the union of—”

“No!” both unicorns exclaimed at once. “I-I mean,” Twilight stammered, “th-that might be... moving a little fast...” Her twin nodded in vehement agreement.

Pinkie Pie, unperturbed, disappeared behind the curtains. The lights went out.

“It’s just gonna get worse y’know,” the last member of Pinkie’s three-mare audience observed. The soft sound of wing beats got louder as Rainbow Dash abandoned her spot near the ceiling, and she came down to land next to the two unicorns.

“I know,” Twilight grumbled. “But c’mon. Puns on my name? Stand-up comedy? And a marriage ceremony? Can’t I just—”

A spotlight switched on, lighting up the center of the small stage. A pink pony bounced out from behind the curtains, wielding a cane and a top hat. With a sound like a hundred party horns, the music began.

Twilight is my bestest friends, whoopee!
Whoopee!
They’re the cutest, smartest, all-around-best po-ny!
Po-ny!
And now there’s twice as many of her, you see!
You see!
That means that she’ll spend twice as much time with meeeeee!

“No,” Twilight said with a hint of exasperation. “Pinkie, look. I appreciate what you’re doing, I really do. But maybe it would be best if I just... introduced myself.”

“Oh.” Pinkie deflated slightly. “I guess you could do that too.” The top hat slumped down over her eyes as she lowered her head.

“But,” Twilight added quickly, “I really did like the song.”

The main room of Sugarcube Corner had been cleared in preparation for a party. And the party guests had arrived. What seemed like a hundred ponies were gathered there, milling about in the late afternoon sunlight that filtered in through the shaded windows. Refreshments had been served, and already eagerly started in on, while they awaited the guest—or rather, unbeknownst to them, guests—of honor.

A spotlight switched on, lighting up the center of the small stage. A purple unicorn slipped out from behind the curtains and stepped up to the microphone. All eyes turned to the stage. Swallowing her nervousness as best she could, Twilight Sparkle cleared her throat and addressed the expectant herd of ponies before her.

“Everypony. Hi. I, um...” Her speech trailed off, lost as quickly as it had begun. She cleared her throat again. “I know most of you already know me by now, but I’m Twilight Sparkle. I run the town library, and, um, I like to read, and...”

The blank stares and the rustling of restless movement told her she was losing them. She wasn’t normally this bad at speeches. She wasn’t! But how do you tell a whole room full of ponies that, not only are you in love with a mare, you’re in love with yourself?

Well, when all else fails, there’s always the direct route.

“A-anyway!” she said hurriedly. “The reason you’re all here is because, well, there’s somepony I want to introduce to you...”

A second purple unicorn stepped out from behind the curtains and came to stand beside the first. The boredom of the crowd evaporated instantly, replaced by perfect silence as they stared, their eyes flicking between the two completely identical ponies. It wasn’t until the yellow-maned, pink-coated mare in the front row fainted that Twilight realized something was very wrong. By the time the thump of the mare’s body hitting the ground startled the other ponies out of their paralysis, both unicorns had realized that, all things considered, the crowd hadn’t come to an entirely unreasonable conclusion.

“CHANGELING!”

And with that, chaos erupted in Sugarcube Corner. Half the ponies, who unfortunately were mostly the ones closer to the stage, tried to bolt for the door. A great many of the remainder (who, again unfortunately, were nearer the back) made a disorganized attempt to charge the stage. Twilight’s friends made a noble effort at calming down the panicking herd, but their cries were entirely lost in the tumult.

Twilight and her twin turned, ducked through the curtain behind her, and ran. By the time they shot out the back door of Sugarcube Corner, half of Ponyville was hot on their tails.

She considered running toward the library first. But she wouldn’t have time to board up the doors and windows, and anyway, she didn’t want to have to clean up the inevitable mess that would result from having a herd of ponies pounding at her door. Her friends’ homes were out for the same reason. Sugarcube Corner had probably already suffered some damage as it was, and she didn’t want to compound that any further. She could run for the Everfree, but... well, there were worse things than a crowd of ponies to have chasing you. And somepony would probably try to follow her in and get themselves seriously injured. So her only real choice was to lose them first, and hide after that.

“We’ve been doing... a lot of running... lately...” her twin panted beside her.

And there was the problem with that plan. Twilight was far from the most fit pony in Ponyville. In fact, their pursuers were already getting noticeably closer. She would have to outsmart them. Fortunately, being smart was her specialty.

When most ponies run, their amygdala, the part of their brain that houses their most basic instincts, takes over and their thought processes become very simple: Run. Go faster. Get away. Twilight Sparkle was different. When Twilight Sparkle panicked, her frontal lobe took over. Identify problem. Solve problem. Implement solution. The solution to this particular problem presented itself in the form of a set of mathematical functions mapped onto a three-dimensional coordinate system. Simple.

“Mirrored helix!” The simple command conveyed all it needed to. Her twin veered to the right, and she cut sharply to the left, dividing the crowd down the middle as they split up to follow the diverging unicorns. Twilight raced down a side street—more of an alley, really—next to the local shipping warehouse, dodging barrels and crates. She might not have been as agile as some of the ponies chasing her, but as a crowd, they were as clumsy as a sleepy ursa minor.

Unfortunately for the local shipping company, they were also nearly as destructive. Somepony was going to have to pay for those crates. Twilight hoped it wouldn’t be her. She took a sharp right around the back of the warehouse and kept running.

Meanwhile, in the opposite direction, Twilight was losing ground fast. The marketplace had already closed for the party, so there was a lot of open space for her to cover. She risked a glance back and saw that the nearest pony, who she recognized as Rose from the flower stall, was less than ten feet behind her. That wouldn’t give her nearly enough time. She was going to have to think of something fast.

“Hey look, it’s Princess Celestia!” she shouted.

The ponies chasing her didn’t even slow down. Visits from Princess Celestia had become almost commonplace since Twilight’s arrival in the little town.

“And she’s uh... kissing Sapphire Shores!”

That gave her the moment she needed. It was an ill-advised bluff, but Princess Celestia could banish her for it later. Some time after she was finished not getting trampled by a herd of madponies. She took a left, and began counting side streets.

On the opposite side of Mane Street, Twilight was also counting to herself. “...two... three...” Well, pi was going to have to equal three for now. She could already see her twin turning down the opposite side street toward her. It was time for the helices to meet. She turned right.

The two mares’ eyes met and locked as they galloped toward each other. Time seemed to slow further and further as they grew nearer and nearer, as if they were stuck in some kind of dichotomy paradox, doomed to never reach their destinations because they would forever be chasing a new halfway point. They could each see the desperation in the other’s eyes, the sweat on her coat, and the herd of ponies galloping on her heels.

Then one flicked her eyes to the side, just slightly, and the moment shattered. They turned as one, skidding to halt their momentum as much as they could, their sides bumping together and their legs nearly getting tangled before they regained their footing. Then, just before the two waves of ponies converged in the middle of Mane Street, Twilight Sparkle and Twilight Sparkle resumed their motion together. They galloped side-by-side down the road, panting but victorious, as their pursuers crashed together into a massive tangle of ponies, shouting, and dust. Then they took another turn down a disused side street and started toward their library before anypony could recover enough to give chase again.

A Crack in the Mirror

The front door slammed closed with a bang. The sound reverberated through the library, shaking the books on their shelves and sending a cloud of newly settled dust jolting back into the air. Two very winded librarians skidded to a halt side by side, gasping at the dry air. Then the running caught up with them, and Twilight staggered against her twin, sending them both sprawling into a purple heap on the hard wooden floor. She lay against the other mare’s side, their barrels rising and falling with their labored breathing. They remained that way for several moments before her twin spoke.

“That... could have gone better.”

“You don’t say?” Twilight grumbled without lifting her head. “Feathers... We weren’t built for all this running.”

“Yeah...” Her twin was silent for a thoughtful moment, during which the sound of their approaching pursuers grew steadily louder, then, “Hey, I’ll bet we could come up with a spell...”

“Let’s focus on the more immediate problems first.” Twilight stood just as a hard knock sounded on the door. A stallion’s voice called from the other side.

“We know you’re in there, changelings! Come along peacefully, and we won’t rough you up too badly before we turn you over to the guards!”

“Good old Ponyville diplomacy,” Twilight muttered. She raised her voice. “We’re not changelings! And you’re not getting in, so you might as well just turn around and go home!” She rose from her place, gathering magic in preparation for the inevitable next step in the negotiations.

There was silence from the door for a moment as the assembled ponies debated. Then the silence deepened from the uneasy quiet of ponies conversing under their breath, becoming the earnest but not particularly convincing stealth of far too many ponies trying not to sound like they were backing away from the door. Twilight began to count in her head as she trotted toward the door, her spell already being cast. They’d be making their next move in about three... two... one...

She opened the door. An amber-coated earth pony careened into the shield that stretched across the frame with a resounding thud, then reeled back onto his haunches. Twilight peered down at him critically.

“Not really battering ram material,” she observed, arching an eyebrow. “How’d you get roped into leading the charge?”

Caramel’s sheepish look told her all she needed to know. She didn’t bother to wait for him to form a coherent answer.

“You volunteered, didn’t you?”

The stallion didn’t reply, but the slight blush on his cheeks was answer enough. Twilight rolled her eyes.

“Great. The strapping young stallion has come to save the damsel in distress from her changeling captors. How very brave of you. And you even brought your own army.” She eyed the crowd behind him. “Excuse me while I swoon.”

“Which reminds me,” the other Twilight piped up from beside her, “the third Sir Ironhooves book came in.” Her horn lit up as she retrieved a nearby hardcover and tossed it through the shield to Caramel. “I already signed it out for you.”

Caramel grabbed the book and shot an embarrassed look at the crowd, who had gone from milling uncertainly to watching with bemused curiosity. “Uh... thanks?”

“Don’t mention it,” Twilight said with a snort. “Now, here’s something for you all to ponder, if you still think we’re changelings. Could anypony but the real me do this?” With a flick of her head and a flash of her horn, a shimmering aura of force expanded outward from the tree. Caramel had to scramble back to avoid the quickly growing shield, rejoining the rest of the crowd several paces further away.

“Bye now!” the other Twilight called through the shield, waving. Then she reinforced the spell with a soundproofing enchantment, and Twilight shut the door.

They shared a glance, then shook their heads.

“Ponies sometimes,” Twilight said wryly.

“Can’t live without ‘em, can’t replace ‘em with useful simulacrums,” her twin agreed.

“Not yet, at least.”

“I think he likes us.”

“Hmm?” Twilight tilted her head, suddenly not following.

“Caramel. I think he likes us.”

“Huh. Funny way of showing it. Anyway, enough messing around. We’ve got archaeology to do, and those rocs aren’t going to move themselves.” She looked around for her assistant. “Spike! Where are you? I need The Big Book of Bigger Birds!”

“We, er, left him at the party,” her twin reminded her, scanning the shelves. “Here it is.” She picked out the book and hefted it over to Twilight.

“Thanks.” Twilight took the book from her twin’s magic, flipped to the section that described their avian archaeological antagonists, and settled down to begin her reading. “I guess we’d better go pick him up after the mob clears out.”

“Yeah...” Her twin settled down beside her. Twilight leaned against the mare’s side comfortably, smiling as the warmth of her started to seep through her coat. Sadly, the peaceful moment couldn’t last, and her twin spoke up again.

“You know, I bet Fluttershy would know how to deal with rocs.”

Twilight flipped a page with her magic. “Hmm, probably.”

Seeing that no further response was forthcoming, the other unicorn fell back into thoughtful silence. Twilight shifted her weight slightly, then settled back against her, eyes scanning lazily down the page.

“Look at this.” Her twin lifted her hoof and pointed out a passage just ahead of where Twilight was reading. “ ‘Rocs are prideful creatures, and never back down from a challenge...’ I’ll bet if Rainbow Dash—”

“Uh-huh.” Twilight flipped the page out from under her double’s hoof, her eyes never leaving the text. The other mare pulled back in surprise, but didn’t comment. Instead, she folded her forelegs in front of her and laid her head on them in an unmistakably sullen pose.

“Or,” she said after a minute, lifting her head again, “we could ask Pinkie. She grew up on a roc farm, after all.”

In retrospect, even if she hadn’t noticed the sullen tone, even if the incongruity of the statement hadn’t stuck her as odd, Twilight probably should have noticed the expectant tensing of the mare against her. She probably should have set the book down and paid attention. Instead, she continued to skim the text in front of her and answered with a distracted “Mhmm.”

The ice in her voice, however, was impossible to ignore. “That... was a joke.” The comfortable warmth left Twilight’s side as her twin pulled away, fixing her with an accusing glare. “Are you even paying attention to me?”

“Nope,” Twilight answered absently. “Reading.”

The sound of paper against paper was the only noise in the library as she turned the next page. And then the next. Finally, her twin spoke again.

“...I guess that’s fair.” She settled back against Twilight, and quietly resumed scanning the open page. “Wow, they steal shiny things too. They’re like giant magpies.”

...the Rockies Rock Roc is the largest of the roc family, weighing in at...

Twilight flipped the page, ears flicking in annoyance.

...spend most of the winter season in hibernation. In this state, they can easily be mistaken for natural parts of the landscape...

Twilight gritted her teeth, and turned the page again.

...was historically considered to be as much of an accomplishment as defeating a dragon, and was significantly less likely to cause an international incident...

Twilight slammed the book onto the floor, making her companion jump. “We don’t need their help!”

“I... didn’t say we did,” her twin said, eyeing her warily.

“You implied it,” Twilight grumbled. “With your... not-talking.”

“Now you’re being ridiculous.”

“...I know.” Twilight’s tail began to lash. “But we don’t. Come on, we have enough power between the two of us to level Ponyville. Probably twice. We can take a couple of giant birds.”

“Of course we can,” her twin agreed quickly. “We don’t need their help.”

“Exactly.” Satisfied that she was back in agreement with herself, Twilight picked the book up again and returned to her reading. Silence descended on the library, save for the occasional muffled thump of ponies trying to break through the shield outside.

The two mares lay side-by-side, the horn of one or the other occasionally lighting up to turn a page or grab a new book. Eventually, the noise outside subsided, the crowd apparently giving it up for a lost cause. Or possibly going back for reinforcements.

“So, I was thinking.” Twilight’s twin was the first to break the silence.

“We do that a lot,” Twilight replied, still engrossed in her reading.

“Uh huh. Well, it’s just that, when you said ‘the real me’... that got me thinking. Which one of us is that? I mean, which one of us is the real, er, us?”

That question warranted her full attention. Twilight set her book down, tilting her head quizzically at her twin. “What do you mean? We both are, of course. That was the whole point of the spell: to make two of us.”

“Well, yes. But it’s impossible to have two of the exact same pony. Technically, we diverged as soon as we stepped out of different mirrors.”

Twilight shook her head. “Minor details like that don’t count. What I said was that only the real me could do that. Could you have cast the shield?”

“Well, yes, of course.”

“Then I obviously meant both of us.” Twilight put a foreleg over her twin’s withers. “Tell me, Twilight Sparkle. What would happen to you if we canceled the spell right now?”

Her twin leaned into the embrace, but frowned. “I’d... go back to being one of me?”

“Right. And then what would happen to me?”

“Well, I guess you’d go back to being one of me too.”

“Exactly.” Twilight smiled at her double. “Yes, we’ve disagreed on a few things, but we got into arguments with ourself way before we cast that spell. Sure, in theory, we might have diverged slightly. And in theory, there’s no difference between theory and practice.”

“...but in practice, there is,” the other unicorn finished, her expression relaxing into a smile of her own. “You’re right. I’m right. In practice, we really are both me. And,” she said, the smile growing sly, “I love me.”

“I love me too,” Twilight said with a smirk. “The only pony who truly understands me.” She leaned forward slightly, and her muzzle met her twin’s in a kiss.

The kiss would have quickly turned passionate, if not for the reverberating bang of heavy artillery fire outside.

Twilight’s ears flattened back against her head and she pulled back quickly. “Oh for pony’s sake.” Both mares got up and hurried to the front door, yanking it open. Neither was prepared for what they saw.

Their shield looked like it was under siege by a party decorating service. Tablecloths were strewn across the outside of it. Plastic cutlery had become embedded in it, as if by massive force, causing sparking rifts in its surface. An enormous bouquet of balloons had become attached to its top, and were making a concerted effort to lift it from its place entirely.

And the streamers. The streamers were everywhere. The Twilights stared, dumbfounded, at the spectacle until they noticed its cause: a bright pink pony was outside, waving her forelegs for their attention, bouncing up and down next to their other friends, Spike, and... the party cannon. Of course. Pinkie Pie’s weapon of mass festivity stood aimed at their home, its muzzle still smoking. Twilight dispelled the shield with a resigned sigh, causing a cascade of streamers to tumble down onto the library. The balloons, suddenly unhitched from their place, drifted lazily into their newfound freedom.

“What is it now, Pinkie Pie?”

Pinkie grinned at them sheepishly. “Umm... we missed you?”

Twilight glanced around at the brightly decorated wasteland that had once been an understated palette of greens and browns, her expression flat. “It appears you didn’t.” Pinkie’s grin only widened.

“Well,” Rarity broke in, “we had to get your attention somehow.” She gestured at the area around them in general. “As you can see, your pursuers have left. After they were unable to break through your shield spell, they calmed down a bit and we were able to explain things to them rationally. Now, won’t you come back to the party with us?”

“Thanks, girls, but no thanks,” Twilight said, shaking her head. “We’ve got a lot of studying to do if we’re going to complete our assignment from Princess Celestia. We should really get back to it.”

“Maybe we could help?” Fluttershy suggested. “I mean, if there’s anything we could do...”

“No.” To Twilight’s surprise, her twin answered first. “I appreciate the offer, Fluttershy, but we can handle this on our own. We are the princess’s personal protege, after all.”

“Well, okay. That’s okay.” Fluttershy’s expression became suddenly determined. “But if you need anything from us... you tell us. Okay? Don’t just, um, try to handle everything on your own and... get into trouble...” Her determination wavered, and she hurried to clarify, “Not that I’m saying you would of course! It’s just... you know.”

Twilight’s twin smiled reassuringly. “I know, I tend to go overboard sometimes. But don’t worry! I’ve got myself to look out for me now.” Fluttershy looked unconvinced.

“That’s... um, that’s sort of what I’m worried about, actually.”

“Well, don’t be. We’ve got this covered. There’s enough magic between the two of us to level half of Ponyville. A couple of giant birds aren’t going to give us any trouble once we’ve had some time to recharge. We’ll see you later, okay girls?”

As they walked back into the library, Twilight couldn’t help but notice that their friends didn’t look reassured at all. She turned to her twin after the door closed.

“They don’t trust us.”

“I know. I wish they would have a little faith in us sometimes. It’s not like we’re going to try to buck an entire orchard worth of apples all by ourselves or something.”

“Or fly off the handle because we think our friends don’t want to go to our parties,” Twilight said with a chuckle.

“Yeah, or—”

A knock interrupted them. Twilight opened the door again to find Rainbow Dash holding a grumpy-looking Spike.

“You forgot this,” she offered helpfully.

“Oh, Spike! Good.” Twilight grabbed the little dragon in her magic and shut the door on Rainbow Dash. “We’re going to need you to compile all our resources on magical animal control techniques.”

“You know, you could at least—”

“Chop chop, Spike,” Twilight said firmly. “We’re on a tight schedule here.”

“But I—”

“Less talking, more books.”

“Alright, alright, I’m going,” Spike began the climb up the ladder to the first shelf, grumbling to himself. “I don’t get paid enough for this...”

“I heard that!” Twilight snapped. She trotted over to her twin, who was already starting into the next book, and settled down beside her, pulling one over for herself. Soon, quiet returned to the library.

Self-Image

That night, two identical mares rested in each other's embrace. Somewhere in the intervening time, studying had become the last thing on their minds, and when a cool breeze snuck in through the open window, they were more than happy to let it caress their coats as they drifted off toward Luna's realm.

One nuzzled in closer to the other for more warmth. The other, already quite warm enough, nonetheless pulled her companion closer with a contented sigh, deeming it well worth the minor discomfort of the heat. She opened one eye just as the other did, and they leaned in to share one more sleepy kiss.

Twilight Sparkle was in love. And if it was with herself, well, could anypony argue that there was a better match?

Sleep came, and with it, dreams.

"This is highly unusual, you know."

Twilight looked to her left, somewhat startled to find the old priest there, although she couldn't imagine why now that she thought about it. Hadn't he been there all along?

"I don't think anypony really expected me to grow up normal, Reverend Sunchaser," Twilight said with a small smile. The reverend was an old friend of the family; he'd know exactly what she meant.

"Can we get on with it?" the other Twilight snapped from her right. "The clock is ticking. Look, skip all the pageantry and just get to the proclamation, alright?"

Twilight turned with a slight frown, but she couldn't be upset at her twin. Not today, not when the mare was resplendent in the same perfectly white wedding dress as she wore. Beautiful. And precisely symmetrical with herself, just as it should be.

Her frown vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

The reverend blinked at them, harrumphed, and lifted the script back up in front of himself. Twilight had written that herself—or perhaps her twin had, but that wasn't important—and she was quite proud of it. But time was wearing on, and they had places to be.

"Very well," Reverend Sunchaser said, flipping past a few pages and finding his new place. "In the name of Princess Celestia and the warmth of the sun she commands, I now pronounce you: mare and wife. You may kiss, er, yourself."

Twilight nodded, and couldn't help but smile in spite of her other self's rudeness. It was highly unusual. But it was done. Or rather, it was almost done. Her horn glowing, she lifted the veil that covered the other mare's face.

The Changeling Queen stared back at her, her mouth widening into a wicked grin. Her sharp carnivore's teeth glinted in the sunlight.

"Surprise!"

Twilight yelped and stumbled backward, but her hooves caught on her own wedding dress. She tripped, and fell.

And fell...

And landed with a whump on the floor of the crystal caverns beneath Canterlot. The scenery was familiar, and not in a good way. She struggled to disentangle herself from her dress as she took in her surroundings.

"Changeling problems?" The voice echoed around the cavern. Her head whipped around and her eyes settled on the form of her ex-foalsitter and now sister-in-law, Princess Cadence, sitting not far from her. Her forelegs were crossed casually, as if this was a perfectly natural place for her to be.

"Cadence! You've got to help me!" Twilight finally freed herself and dashed over, putting her hooves on Cadence's shoulders, shaking her for emphasis. "I was right there at the altar, and so was I," she began explaining frantically, "but then the other me wasn't me anymore, it was that horrible changeling queen, and now I'm here!" She felt like she'd missed something in there, but she couldn't quite put her hoof on it. It wasn't important, anyway.

Cadence didn't seem nearly as concerned as she should have. "Yeah, I know how that is. Just when you think you really know somepony, they go and turn into an emotion-sucking abomination. It happens to the best of us. Come, sit with me." She lifted a wing.

"But... help?" Twilight said plaintively.

"Sit, Twilight." The command was gentle, but it was spoken with all the authority of her station.

Twilight sat immediately, right where she was. Then she frowned, peering at the princess suspiciously. "Wait, what do you mean you know how it is? You were the one who got replaced!"

Cadence lowered her wing back to her side. "Well, weren't you, too?"

"Oh. I guess I was." Twilight sighed, and stared at her hooves. "Everything was going so well, too."

"Don't worry," her sister-in-law said, coming over to sit by her instead. "I'm sure some young purple hero will come rescue you sooner or later."

"How?" Twilight asked. "There are only two of me, one is a changeling, and I'm stuck down here."

"I suppose you'll just have to be the hero, then."

"What?" Twilight looked up at her sister-in-law.

"Well, nopony else is going to do it for you." Cadence grinned at her. "Now, off with you!"

Twilight opened her mouth, but a flick of Cadence's wing sent her sprawling into the darkness.

She lit her lantern, and its glow pushed back the shadows somewhat. Rough-hewn passages spread out before her, branching and twisting in the half-light beyond the lantern's light. A diamond dog den?

"You'll never get away with this, Ahuizotl!" Her own voice reached her from one of the twisted passageways ahead of her.

No, she recognized this place. Natural cave walls resolved themselves into intricate stonework, and things she had thought were stone formations became statues in the shapes of rearing ponies, crossing horns with mythical beasts. This wasn't a diamond dog den; it was the legendary Maze of Minos! She had read about it in... a book. She didn't remember which right now, but that wasn't important. What was important was that there was a roc clawing at the roof, screeching furiously and sending cascades of pebbles down around her ears.

There was no time to waste. Twilight took off running in the direction she'd heard her voice come from.

"This way!" It was to her left. She twisted, hooves kicking up stones as she skidded, and shot down the left tunnel.

"Over here!" Her left again. She made another sharp turn.

"Hurry!" Six left turns in, she realized she was going in a circle. She heard her voice again, once again from her left, and halted to listen.

"Even if you manage to beat me, Ahuizotl, I'll be along soon. The odds of you beating me twice in a row are five point seven five percent, at most. Give up now, and I might be able to talk myself into going easy on you."

She didn't wait to hear the response. Turning left one more time, straight into a wall, she cut to the chase and blasted her way right through it.

She never had been much for mazes.

As she strode through the impromptu doorway, horn aglow (she’d always wanted to do that), the dust settled on a bizarre scene. Her other self hung from manacles on the wall, with a smug expression that could only mean "I told you so." Across the room, the dread villain Ahuizotl sat in an armchair by a lit fireplace, wearing a monocle and smoking a pipe. There was a book held open in his hand.

The book was titled Daring Do and the Death of Twilight Sparkle.

"That book doesn't even exist!" Twilight cried, lowering her head and charging the villain.

"Ah, but it will s—"

Ahuizotl didn't get to finish his sentence. The roc fell through the ceiling and onto him at the same time that Twilight crashed into them. Both enemies exploded into dust with the force of the impact.

The dust surrounded Twilight and trailed behind her, and her hooves kicked up more and more of it as she galloped frantically down the long road to the Ponyville train station.

"Late, late, late," she chanted nervously to herself. "Save the world, rescue the damsel in distress, you can arrive in the nick of time for that, but the victory ceremony afterwards? Late, late, late! Get it together, Twilight."

The last cars of the train were pulling away as she arrived. She shook her head. Couldn't wait for the next train. She was going to be late!

"I need a ticket for that train!" she shouted at the stallion behind the counter.

"Okay," the ticket pony said, "but you'll have to catch it yourself."

“Thanks!” She got a running start just as the tail end of the last car passed her, then she leapt off the platform, stretching her hooves as far as she could. At first she thought she hadn't jumped hard enough, that she'd crash onto the tracks below, but she sailed through the great doors of Canterlot Castle just as Princess Celestia began her introductory speech.

"You're late, Twily," her brother said next to her. "Better hurry, or you'll miss it!"

She bolted inside, pushing her way through the audience. Nopony seemed inclined to move out of her way, which made it very slow going. Kind of rude, considering that she was pretty much the savior of Equestria. She heard the princess's voice over the crowd.

"...faithful student, bearer of the Element of Magic, and pretty much the savior of Equestria: Twilight Sparkle!"

"I'm h—" The words died on her lips as she burst through the front row of the audience.

She was already there. Even as the medal was lowered over her head, Twilight Sparkle turned and saw herself pushing out of the crowd. Their teacher's next words rang in both of their ears.

"I'm so proud of you, Twilight Sparkle."

Their eyes flew open at the same time. They stared at each other for a long, tense moment, each reliving the horror from her own perspective: one, the accidental betrayer, and the other, the accidentally betrayed. Twilight could feel her twin's chest heaving, mirroring her own panic.

Then she drew her forelegs more tightly around the other mare, and her twin buried herself in the embrace in turn.

"You didn't know," she said quietly.

"I didn't know," her twin agreed, voice muffled against Twilight's coat.

"You didn't mean to take anything away from me," she said, and started to run a comforting hoof along the other Twilight's back. "You thought it was just you in the dream."

"I didn't mean to," the other agreed. "I thought it was just me."

"And you were right," Twilight said firmly.

"And I was... what?" Her twin looked up at her in confusion.

Twilight smiled. "It was just a dream. An absurd one. How could I possibly replace myself?"

"That... that's a good point." Her twin laughed, a small sound, but thick with relief. "Heh. It's a good thing I'm so smart."

"Isn't it?" Twilight gave a laugh of her own. "So, breakfast. Eggs and toast?"

"I don't really feel like... I mean, yeah. Eggs and toast sounds perfect."

Breakfast, prepared by a grumbling Spike, was adequate. Twilight had been more in the mood for bagels—she really liked bagels—but, well, she hadn't. And so, neither had she.

The worst part of being one self with two minds was most definitely the grammar.

"I don't see why you haven't created a spell to make you breakfast yet," Spike complained.

"That's actually not a bad idea." Twilight looked thoughtful. "Maybe if—"

"Not now," she told herself firmly. "Rocs first, then breakfast spells."

"Right. So what'd you come up with?"

"Oh, lots of ideas! Not all equally viable, of course." The other mare produced a scroll from the air that was instantly recognizable—to Twilight’s expertly-trained eye—as a list. She began, as was proper, at the top. "First, and most obvious, the simple solution: blast them sky-high."

Twilight pulled her own notes over to the breakfast table. The entry was near the middle. "Environmental disaster, and bad PR. Fluttershy would never forgive us. Giant cages?"

"The biggest issue is material procurement. It'd have to be something tough enough to hold them, and raw magic is out. Holding it for the entire length of the survey would be exhausting even if we both had a full charge. What about a giant lever?"

"A giant... Oh, the seesaw method, right." She found the line in her own notes. "Great if they were bears or something, but rocs would just fly back. We could try asking nicely."

"I think we're way past diplomacy at this point." Both mares crossed an entry off the list. "Banishment spell?"

"I don't think rocs count as Armageddon-class threats to Equestria, even if they're in the way of an important archeological survey."

"Anything that stands in the way of science is a threat to our cultural advancement. But I guess I see your point. The paperwork would be a pain anyway. The line-of-shiny-objects trick?"

"Maybe as a supplement to another method; keeping them away that long is going to require something to lead them to. Table that for now. What about a sleep spell?"

She knew that wouldn't work either, even before she said it. A sleep spell that big was a non-standard variant, so using it on them would technically count as animal testing. Mass teleportation was too expensive. Covering them with a giant tarp would just make them angry. (That one had been added on a whim anyway. Surprisingly, it was on both lists.) The ideas ranged from the mundane to the extraordinary, from the magical to the scientific, and from there to the truly bizarre. (Temporarily storing them on the moon, really? Who had ever heard of moon rocs?) And yet, for every idea one had, the other one had already found the same problems with it.

"You realize," her twin said grumpily, "that I already knew the ideas weren't going to work as-is. I was hoping that if I ran them by somepony else as smart as me, you might come up with some, I dunno, solutions."

"You'd have to find somepony else as smart as you then," Twilight pointed out. When her twin looked at her sharply, she explained, "I'm not somepony else."

"Oh." The other unicorn blinked. "Yeah. I knew that. Anyway, I would’ve found the solutions if there were any. Both of me would’ve, apparently."

"Definitely," she agreed.

"We might just have to wing it."

"Was that another roc joke?"

"...Maybe."

She rolled her eyes. "I don't know how I put up with me sometimes."

"Because I'm great in the hay?"

They both paused, then turned a bit red. "You didn't hear that, Spike," Twilight called out quickly.

Spike was already in the process of reshelving the aftermath of the previous day's study. "Hear what?" he asked from on top of a ladder.

"Nothing!" They relaxed.

"But seriously," her twin said, "we've always been good at thinking on our hooves. Maybe we should just go back out there and see what we come up with."

"Because that worked so well for us last time."

"Hey! We just got caught off guard. If manticores hadn't been chasing us..."

"Yeah, okay. Worst case, we can probably teleport back now that we’ve recharged a bit. One checklist of pre-adventure preparations, coming right up!"

She grabbed her quill, only to have it yanked out of her grasp. "That one's mine," her twin said.

"Well, yeah, and it's my best one. What about it?"

"No, I mean I was just using it. Yours is on the table."

She stared at her twin flatly. The other mare looked belligerent in return. "You realize we're the same pony, right?"

"Yeah."

"So..."

"So both of us own the pen. But I’m claiming it now. There are plenty of others."

"Oookay..." Twilight shrugged, and grabbed the one she'd been using before. "In that case, I'm claiming the inkpot."

"You can't do that. No, you know what? Fine. I get the paper, then."

Two could play at that game. "Well, I'm taking..." Twilight glanced around the library. "...the globe."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Her twin glared at her. "If we're just going around assigning random things now, I want the Star Swirl bookends."

"Then I get the books between them."

"Only if I get the ones on the next shelf down."

"That's playing dirty! That's the Daring Do series!"

"And?" Her twin smirked, confident in her victory. "Your move."

Twilight cast about for something that would let her outmaneuver herself. It was a surprisingly difficult proposition. Then her eyes landed on the answer.

"I'm taking Spike."

Some of the most devastating battles in Equestrian history have been between only two participants. As a student of history herself, Twilight was quite aware of the devastation that could be wrought by two powerful unicorns who couldn't come to a peaceful agreement, and she was far too smart a pony to get into a contest of magic with herself. That did not, as she quickly discovered, preclude her from baser forms of attack. Forms of attack like the flying tackle. Or kicking at the madpony who had just tackled her.

Nor, for that matter, did it rule out kneeing or biting.

By the time Spike got them to separate, they'd discovered the ancient art of hair-pulling.

Reflecting

They sat across the library from each other, neither meeting the other's eyes. Their friends were all there. Fluttershy sat near one, carefully cleaning a rather nasty scrape. Rarity fussed over the other, who would almost certainly be ending up with a black eye. Both were appropriately embarrassed about the situation, and now that the heat of the moment had died down, any enmity that might have been building had been replaced by a nervous worry.

"We're not exactly the same anymore, are we?" Twilight asked rhetorically, breaking the silence.

"On th' contrary," Applejack said. "I'd say ya'll were both actin' like foals back there."

"But we were disagreeing," Twilight disagreed, and the other nodded her agreement.

"Over wantin' the same things," Applejack pointed out.

"Well, yes, I guess that's true. But we've almost disagreed about other things too. Like how we should handle this roc situation."

"Rock situation?" Pinkie asked, perking up. The other Twilight smirked a bit to herself.

"Not rock, roc. R-O-C. The gigantic birds that were chasing us around the Everfree. But that's not important right now."

"Oh." Pinkie looked a bit disappointed. "Then what is important?"

"Well," Twilight said, glad to see that even Pinkie was taking her problem as seriously as could be expected. "Us diverging is what's important. If we're not careful, we could become two separate ponies."

"What's so bad about that? I'm two separate ponies sometimes, and I came out okay!"

Twilight reflexively filed that away on her "do not think about" shelf and moved on. It was a skill you developed around Pinkie Pie. "Well," she said, taking a deep breath, "it's kind of complicated. See, when we're two of me, then what I've effectively done is just split my consciousness, sort of an extreme form of multitasking. I'm still really only one pony, and when the spell ends, it's just like refocusing back on a single task again. The worst thing I could be accused of doing is using myself as a test subject for experimental new magic, and I'm well within my rights to do that."

"But," her twin said, picking up immediately as she paused for breath, "as we stay apart longer, different experiences will lead to different perspectives. Sooner or later, we're not going to be the same pony anymore, and that's where the trouble starts. The ethical implications alone are staggering; I'm effectively playing goddess at that point, bypassing nature entirely to create new life to my exact specifications."

She stopped to breathe in, and Twilight picked back up immediately. "Which most ponies would agree is a bad thing, although I've never been clear on where exactly the line between 'powerful unicorn' and 'legitimate goddess' gets drawn. But even setting that aside for the moment, canceling the spell also becomes an issue. Even though neither of us technically dies, since both halves reform into the whole, I'm pretty sure any process that starts with two separate ponies and ends with only one is some kind of murder. I'm not a murderer!"

"Of course I'm not," the other her agreed. "It's a concern, though. We've also got the issue of shared history. Right now we're both friends with all of you, for example, since there isn't a good way to tell us apart yet. But as more time passed, one of us might become closer to some of you, and one might drift farther away. One of us could make a new friend that the other didn't have. And I haven't even started to consider the effect that might have on the Elements of Harmony."

"We might both have to be present to use the Element of Magic, but even worse, it might only require one of us! What happens if only one of us saves the world, and we’re different ponies? We can't both get credit, and that leaves one of us standing in the audience watching while Celestia is giving the other one a medal." They both shivered at the memory.

"And what would our parents think?” her twin went on. “I can just hear my mother now: 'Twilight Sparkle, you stop that this instant. I did not raise my daughter to be two daughters!' I can talk my way out of it if it's just a mirror spell, but not if we're different ponies."

"There'll be a few legal issues too. Would both have to pay taxes? Could I file jointly with myself? List myself as a dependent? It's like... well..."

"It's not like anything, and that's what makes it so complicated. As far as any history I've read, which is basically all of it ever, nopony's done this before."

"There's no precedent to work from! This is completely untrodden ground in a legal, ethical, and practical sense."

"And I just can't deal with that right now. I'm a librarian, not a lawyer or a philosopher!" They both threw their hooves up in exasperation as her twin said it, and looked around expectantly at their friends.

As their uninterrupted tirade finally abated, their friends could do nothing but stare, frozen in place by an awed mix of bafflement and wonder.

"That," Rainbow Dash finally said, "was a lot of words, Twi."

"Well, yeah, words are kinda my thing. But you see my point, right?"

Dash pondered the question, then shook her head. "Not really. If it's so bad, why don't you just go back to being one pony?"

The two Twilights exchanged glances. "Because, well... because I love me," she admitted.

"I know it's weird," the other her said quickly, "and I know it's awkward, but it's hard to deny that I'm my own perfect match. Yes, we're bending the rules of magic and morality in ways they were never meant to bend, and yes, we're having a little trouble splitting things between us—I'm still not sure whether using my own toothbrush is gross or not—but the fact is, we haven't had any problems that I wouldn't have just as many or more of with a separate pony."

"And we already know each other, how to cheer myself up if I'm down, or calm myself down if I start worrying too much. We like all the same things..."

"Which I admit might get kinda boring after a while. But we can solve twice as many problems..."

"Although if we work on the same problem, we always end up at the same answer. It's not even about loving myself, really. I've just... gotten used to having two of me around, y'know? I think I'd get lonely if I didn't have somepony to hang out with. Even if it was only as..."

"As, uh..."

In the ensuing silence, both Twilights had the decency to look guilty.

"A friend?" Fluttershy suggested quietly.

Twilight sighed. "Yeah. A friend. Which I already have five of, and I should probably come out of my library and hang out with them when I'm lonely, huh?"

"Well, I won't tell you what to do, Twilight," Rarity said. "But you have been being terribly reclusive lately."

"Yeah," Pinkie Pie added, "and you didn't even stick around for your own 'Welcome to Ponyville Again' party. You ran out of there like you had a herd of ponies after you!"

"Pinkie, I did have a herd of ponies after me."

"Oh yeah."

"Anyway, I guess you're all right. This whole thing is way too complicated, I’m in over my head, and it’s making me neglect you all. I should just go back to being one pony." She and her twin gave each other a longing glance across the room. "I really am gonna miss having another of me around, though."

They stood, and got to setting up the spell that would put them back together again. Her friends looked on sympathetically. Three of them did, anyway. Pinkie was already trying to decide whether to write 'Congratulations, You're One!' or 'Happy Rebirthday!' on the banners. Rainbow Dash was either thinking hard about something, or she'd swallowed a bug. As Twilight was dragging the first mirror into position, Dash spoke up.

"Wait a sec," she said. "Nopony said you had to stop being two of you."

Twilight paused. "Yeah, but..." No, she shouldn't be so dismissive of her friends. That's what the other her had been trying to tell her before. "Okay, Dash, tell me what you're thinking."

"Well. You’re not two different ponies now, right?”

“No, no yet. Barring major life events, I’d give me at least a few more weeks apart before there’s any really meaningful divergence.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s a yes. So the way I heard it, all we ever said was that you should hang out with us more. And all you ever said was that you couldn't be two different ponies. Nopony ever said you couldn't be two of the same pony."

"I can't really avoid it if I stay split like this, though. And merging and recasting it all the time..." Twilight trailed off, a sudden thought coming to her.

"...isn't the only way to resynchronize myself, is it?" the other Twilight finished.

"I dunno," Dash said. "I'm not a magical genius like you. But when Discord made us forget how we were friends, you had a spell that made us remember, didn't you?"

"The memory spell!" Twilight's eyes widened in realization. "But that’s for making ponies remember things they’ve forgotten. Could we really adapt it to add new memories?”

"Well, why not? If we're the same pony, it's not really creating memories out of thin air."

"It's just making me remember something I experienced as my other self."

"Rainbow Dash, that idea is so crazy—"

"—that it just might work."

They turned together to their friends, and Twilight spoke for the both of them when she said, "Thank you all. I realize I've been neglecting you. You could've gotten mad at me, or given up on me and let me hide out with myself in the library for the rest of my life, but you didn't. You stuck with me, and put me back on the right path. And I'm especially glad you did it now, because I've got another problem I could use all of your help solving."

"Right now, though," her twin continued, "don't take this the wrong way, but I'm going to need some peace and quiet to work on the new spell, and… No, actually, you know what?"

"Why don't you all stick around awhile?" Twilight finished, smiling. "Having friends around is worth a few distractions..."

"...and I wouldn't mind some company I don't have to share my toothbrush with."

Dear Princess Celestia,

I am writing to you from the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters, where my friends and I are at this very moment completing the archaeological survey you requested. I do apologize for the delay, but we had a bit of trouble with the local wildlife. It turns out a pair of rocs had taken up residence since our last visit, and when Rainbow Dash scouted out their nest, she found that they'd been protecting an egg! It's no wonder they were being territorial.

Luckily, I had all my friends there to help me. With Rarity's talent at making birds' nests, and Pinkie Pie's knowledge of rocs (who knew?), we were able to quickly build them a suitable home a safe distance away, where they won't interrupt the expedition. Then, after Fluttershy reassured them repeatedly that we would be careful with it, they finally allowed Applejack and me to carry the egg to its new home. It was a group effort, but the area is now completely clear of belligerent fauna.

That isn't the only reason I'm writing to you, though. Today, I'd like to share with you an important lesson I learned about friendship.

I learned that self-sufficiency is a two-sided coin. Learning to love yourself is a wonderful thing, and it's important to be able to get yourself out of trouble when you’ve got nopony else to turn to. Knowing that you always have yourself to rely on can give you confidence even in the most difficult of times. Self-love is a bond that nopony can take away from you. In a way, you can be your own best friend.

But on the other hoof, you can't be your only friend. No matter how smart you are, or how talented, no matter how much raw magical power you have at your command, there are other ponies out there with different ideas than you, with different perspectives, who can look at the same problem as you and come up with a solution you never would have thought of on your own. Their strengths can complement yours in a way that makes the whole much greater than the sum of its parts (no matter what math says). And that, too, is something you should treasure.

In short, today I learned that self-sufficiency is no substitute for friendship. Because, while our similarities might bring us closer together, it's our differences that make friendship worthwhile.

Your faithful students,
Twilight Sparkle

A Change of Plans

Awakening to the feeling of a warm midriff pressed against her back and a foreleg draped over her barrel was certainly not a feeling that Twilight was used to, but she had to admit that it was one she rather enjoyed. Awakening to the feeling of someone having drooled into her mane was also a new experience, but she wasn’t quite so keen on repeating that one.

Still, all in all, she had to rate this morning as a net positive. She snuggled back into the warm embrace of her bedmate, blinking sleepily at the sunlight filtering into the room through her closed blinds. She didn’t normally leave them shut, but last night she had felt the need for a bit of extra privacy.

Last night. What a night! She had never realized how much fun it could be to have a reading partner. And of course, she was the perfect reading partner for herself. Who else had the same sense of humor, the same sarcastic wit, and of course the same razor-sharp intellect as she did? Twilight was modest, but she was realistic too. The other residents of Ponyville just weren’t at her level. It was no wonder she’d been having trouble finding love, really.

Her companion, perhaps disturbed by Twilight’s own movements, shifted in her sleep, tightening the embrace and pulling her closer. Twilight smiled fondly—her twin was probably imagining that she was a stuffed toy, maybe her old Smarty Pants doll. She jumped slightly as she felt a warm muzzle against her neck.

“Mphm fzl fmfrhm farfnartl,” the other mare mumbled into a faceful of mane. Twilight giggled and twisted around to face her bedmate.

“Come on, sleepyhead,” she said quietly and with a smile, “time waits for no pony.” Her twin’s violet eyes opened halfway, her expression warmed into a matching smile, then she leaned in and planted a kiss firmly on her lips.

A crash broke the silence of the early morning as Twilight rocketed out of her bed and to the other side of the room with a yelp of surprise. Her twin’s eyes flew fully open and her face reddened as the full reality of what she had just done hit her.

“I didn’t mean to! I was still half asleep! I thought you were somepony else!” the other lavender unicorn explained frantically.

“Y-y-you... you...”

“I know! I’m sorry!”

“You... kissed me!”

“I’m sorry!”

Twilight was silent for a long moment, staring at her twin. Finally, she mumbled, “Never speak of this again?”

“Never speak of this again,” the other unicorn agreed with a nod.

Satisfied that the matter was settled, the two mares went about Twilight’s daily routine.

With a bit of modification...

“You know, we’re each going to have to cut our shower time in half to keep our usual schedule.”

...and a couple of snags...

“Hey, I was going to use the brush!”

“Well yeah, so was I... uh... Hang on, we have an extra somewhere, where did I put it?”

...and a few compromises...

“Let’s see if Spike will make us pancakes today.”

“Actually, I’m in more of a waffle mood...”

“I’m not. How about muffins?”

“Too filling. Toast?”

“Too plain. Eggs?”

“Too... egg.”

“...That’s not even an adjective.”

“It is now.”

“You know what? Let’s just have cereal.”

“Yeah. Cereal sounds good.”

Yet, through it all, Twilight never once thought of ending her spell.

“So, what’s on the list for today?” It was a conversation that Twilight, often enough over a bowl of cereal like on this morning, had with herself almost ever day. It was just that, today, the “with herself” part was a bit more literal than usual. The mirror image across from her lifted up an unfurled scroll and inspected it, simultaneously raising a glass of apple juice to her lips and taking a sip before reciting from the parchment.

“Let’s see. One, prune the upper branches of the house before the big storm next week. Two, reshelve all thirty-two volumes of the Encyclopedia Equestria.”

“Reshelve... Oh, right. ‘Cutie Mark Crusader Encyclopedia Salesponies.’”

“Mhmm. Three, write the first draft of a guest lecture on basic astrophysics for Miss Cheerilee’s class. Four—”

BORP.

All eyes went to Spike. The little dragon grinned sheepishly and held up a scroll.

“Hmm, I haven’t sent Princess Celestia a letter recently.” Twilight frowned thoughtfully. “Go ahead, Spike.”

Her assistant cleared his throat. “By order of Her Grand Royal Highness Princess Celestia of Equestriajeez, formal much?”

“Just read it, Spike. It’s obviously from one of her aides.”

“Alright, alright. By order of yadda yadda, on this day of etcetera, the Canterlot Archaeological Society shall begin an expedition to the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters in the Everfree Forest.” Both unicorns’ ears perked with interest, their breakfasts forgotten. “In the interests of efficiency, Her Grand Royal Highness has decreed that, before a team is selected for the expedition, an initial survey will be carried out by her local agent, Twilight Sparkle. Sufficient funds for required time and equipment, as well as appropriate hazard pay, will be provided by—uh, girls?”

Some of the most devastating battles in Equestrian history have been between only two participants. When two powerful unicorns find themselves unable to settle their differences through peaceful means, the resulting conflict can quickly escalate to epic proportions, and the magical fallout can affect the land for generations afterward.

Luckily, Twilight’s library was saved from a similar fate by the presence of her number one assistant.

“Uh, Twi? Twilight...”

Neither unicorn responded. A scroll, quill, and inkwell floated between them, a bright magenta glow surrounding them. The glow was quickly growing brighter, and beginning to crackle softly.

Spike reached out carefully and tapped one of the unicorns on her side. Her concentration shattered and she started, turning to glare at the little dragon. The contested objects, released from her magic, floated over to her twin. The other unicorn smugly began writing as Spike shuffled nervously. After several seconds under Twilight’s baleful gaze, her assistant apparently caught the hint to make himself scarce. Twilight huffed and turned her attention back to the mare across the table.

“We’ll need our compass.”

“Got it.”

“And notebooks.”

“Mhmm.”

“Measuring tape.”

“Way ahead of you.”

“And a map of—” Twilight was interrupted as her twin turned the scroll so that she could see it. The parchment contained a neatly-organized checklist of items, precautions, and preparation steps. Exactly how she would have written it.

“Well... that looks... that looks good, then. I guess you’ve got that covered.”

She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of admiration.

A few hours later, her twin had left for the Everfree, and Twilight was left pruning branches. The young mare sighed heavily. It wasn’t that she was jealous exactly. Being jealous of yourself? That would be completely irrational. Twilight Sparkle was a very rational pony.

Nor, certainly, did she miss the other unicorn. She still had herself, and that was basically the same thing. She was used to being alone at times. In fact, as often as not, she preferred it. It was difficult to study and entertain company at the same time, after all.

Unless that company happened to be studying beside you, of course. Twilight had to admit, as irrational as it was, that she was starting to feel a bit lonely without her twin nearby. Like she was missing a part of herself.

Which actually made sense, since she technically was. She felt a bit better at that thought. Still, something was bothering her. And it wasn’t just that she was on her upper balcony pruning loose branches instead of out digging up history in the Everfree Forest.

At least Applejack was there.

“Hey, Applejack?” she called out.

The earth pony’s head poked out from the upper branches of the tree, a pair of clippers held in the side of her mouth. “Yeah, Twi?”

Twilight continued to pull away twigs and small branches with her magic, not meeting her friend’s eyes. She scuffed a hoof against the wood floor. “Uh, nothing. I guess I just wanted to say thanks for coming over to help.”

“Shucks, Twi.” Applejack hopped down to the balcony with a thump. “Ah’m always glad to help a friend. But we both know you didn’t invite me over just to take down a couple of branches.”

Twilight started, looking over at her friend. “Wh-what do you mean, Applejack?” she asked warily.

Applejack chuckled. “Twilight Sparkle, you’ve been lookin’ more nervous’n a sheep at shearin’ time. Ah know that look. What’s botherin’ you?” The earth pony trotted over and put a foreleg over Twilight’s withers. The scents of rich soil and hard work tickled Twilight’s nostrils, but she hardly noticed, distracted by her own thoughts.

“Is it okay to love yourself?” the unicorn asked suddenly. Her friend looked at her askance.

“Well, a’course it is, Twi. You gotta have a healthy sense of self-respectin’, else you can’t really respect nopony else properly. Leastwise, that’s what Ah’ve always figured.”

Twilight scuffed a hoof again, sitting down and eyeing the wooden planks of the balcony. “That’s... not exactly what I mean,” she mumbled.

“Well what do ya mean then?” Applejack asked gently, sitting down with her, keeping a foreleg around her.

Twilight didn’t know what it was about the farm filly. She hadn’t initially intended to say anything, just take comfort in having somepony else around while she worked, but somehow Applejack always managed to draw the truth out of her. “I mean... really love,” she said quietly. “Like heart beating faster, can’t stand to be apart, blushing and shy glances kind of love.”

“Shoot, Twi, are you talkin’ about that narsissin’ thing?”

“Narcissism,” Twilight corrected absently. “And... I guess I am.”

“Well, Ah reckon as long as it ain’t hurtin’ nopony, it’s yer own business what you do in front’a the mirror. But I never had you figured for the type, that’s more the kinda thing that Trixie gal woulda had a problem with. Why d’ya ask?”

Twilight sighed. “I’ve just been confused lately, is all. About love and... all of it. I’m sorry, I know that’s vague.”

“Naw, I know what you mean.” Her friend patted her firmly on the back and gave her a smile. “Well if you want my advice, Twi, yer the type’a pony who could do with a little more self confidence. If this narcissisin’ thing helps you look in the mirror and see the fine pony yer friends see you for, well, Ah say it ain’t such a bad thing.”

Twilight returned the earth pony’s smile weakly. “Thanks, Applejack. I think that helps me a lot.”

The whole day had gone, aside from the odd feeling of loneliness, quite well. Twilight whistled happily to herself as she drew a mark in the last empty checkbox on her list. It was just beginning to get dark outside, and that meant her twin should be returning any moment now.

Just as the clock on the wall reached eight, a white flash lit the inside of the library briefly. Twilight smiled and turned around. Punctual, as always. Her twin was—

Her twin was in rough shape. Her mane was a mess of twigs and leaves, and dirt caked her body. Several shallow scratches were visible on one side, reaching from barrel to flank.

Thump.

Twilight’s eyes widened in shock as the other unicorn collapsed to the floor. She covered the distance in an instant. “Spike! Spike I need help!”

“Coming, Twi! Wow, what happened to you?” The little dragon hurried to her side with a look of concern.

“I don’t know. She just got back from the forest and collapsed.” Twilight started to brush away as much of the dirt as she could with her telekinesis, but her double’s eyes opened groggily.

“I’m... I’m fine,” the unicorn insisted, struggling back onto her hooves. “I just teleported a little too far. There’s a family of rocs living in the ruins, though.”

Twilight blinked and watched the other mare as she tried unsteadily to climb the stairs to the second floor.

“Yes, you are that stubborn,” Spike assured her.

“Shush, Spike,” Twilight said absently. She trotted quickly over to the stairs. “Hold on, I’ll help you to the bath.”

Her twin let out a surprised yelp as she was lifted unceremoniously by a maroon aura of magic. Twilight trotted up the stairs and into the bathroom with her, ignoring her sounds of protest, and set her down inside.

“There,” she said gently, locking the door behind them. “Let me get the water ready. You’ve obviously had a long day.”

“Oh, fine,” the other unicorn conceded, sitting down heavily on her haunches. Her ears drooped, her earlier bravado evaporating in the privacy of the small room. “I didn’t even get to start taking soil samples.”

“It certainly looks like you got some to me,” Twilight said with a giggle as she adjusted the bath’s knobs to what she knew was her ideal temperature. Her twin gave her a flat look.

“Yeah, I guess—hey!” The dirt-caked unicorn flailed as she was lifted again, and set into the hot water. “Oohh... that’s... that’s amazing...” Her eyes closed and the tension disappeared from her limbs as the heat from the bath seeped into her. Twilight couldn’t help but smile.

“Just relax. All of our chores for the day are done, so we have the evening to ourselves.”

“Mmm.”

The two sat in silence for several minutes before the unicorn in the bath sat up and began the process of properly cleaning off. Twilight found herself watching the other mare, and blushed slightly, but didn’t avert her eyes. Eventually, her twin noticed her gaze.

“Something on your mind?” she asked curiously.

“Well, uh... yeah. Actually.” Twilight thought back to her conversation with Applejack. She still wasn’t sure about this self-loving thing, but... “You know that one... fantasy I’ve always had? The one that I could never really, er, act out alone?”

The other mare tilted her head slightly. “The one with the ropes?”

Twilight blushed. “Mhmm.”

“What about it?”

“Well, I was just thinking. If it was just you and me...”

“...then nopony else would ever have to know.”

Twilight smiled shyly at her twin and nodded.

As the last knot pulled tight around her right foreleg, securing her belly-down on her bed, Twilight reflected that bondage required a great deal of trust. You had to trust your partner to treat you with respect, even when she was in complete control. You had to be sure she would follow proper safety precautions, even in the heat of the moment. And you needed to have faith that she would be acting as much out of a desire for your enjoyment as hers.

Of course, all of those concerns were much less pressing when you were a unicorn.

“Knots are secure?” Twilight levitated a short checklist and a pen in front of herself as she tugged lightly at each of the ropes holding her down. “Check. Emergency scissors?” Her partner floated a sharp pair of scissors into her field of vision in response. “Check. Safeword?”

“Thaumaturgy,” the other mare said absently.

“Thaumaturgy it is,” Twilight agreed. “Safeword, check.” She marked off the last item on her list, set it aside, and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

The light in the room dimmed as the larger lamp was extinguished. The lavender candle burned low on her bedside table, providing the only light besides the occasional soft glow as the free unicorn used telekinesis. Twilight shuddered with a sudden chill—it was definitely a chill, definitely not nerves at all—as her twin’s shadow moved across the headboard in front of her.

“You’ve been a very bad filly, Twilight Sparkle,” her twin murmured. Her voice was thick with excitement, and Twilight found herself swallowing a lump in her throat before she trusted herself to respond.

“Y-yes ma’am, I have...”

“You know what this calls for, don't you?” Twilight could hear the smirk in her doppelganger’s voice.

“Yes ma’am, I do,” she whispered softly.

“Remedial lessons.”

There was a soft rustle of paper next to her, then her partner coughed lightly to clear her throat.

“Law One: Every body persists in its state of being at rest or of moving uniformly straight forward, except insofar as it is compelled to change its state by force impressed.”

Extra Content
Remedial Lessons - Physics can be sexy. Want to hear more about Twilight's dirty, nerdy fantasy? Go here.
Warnings: Lesbian horse sex; safe and consensual bondage; mild science.