Spike heard the knock at their door and lay down his latest comic immediately. “I’ll get it!” The castle’s servants took care of all the cleaning, and the work Twilight was doing now was, sadly, mostly beyond the reach of a baby dragon. He’d always enjoyed helping Twilight, but that had never stopped him from wondering what he’d be doing if he had more free time of his own. Now he knew. He’d be re-reading his latest comic book for the seventh time and being sorely tempted to start drawing mustaches on the hero. It was only yesterday, when he’d caught himself idly looking forward to the possibility of another Changeling invasion, that he’d realized how incredibly bored he was. Just having a door to answer was a delight in itself at this point.

When he opened the door, though, all his cheer vanished instantly.

“Spike,” Celestia asked, “Would you please let Twilight know...” But Spike had wordlessly turned on his heel and walked away toward the study. Celestia fell silent. Apparently Spike hadn’t forgiven her yet, if he ever would. Not that I have any grounds whatsoever to blame him.

Spike re-entered the living room and, without so much as a glance at her, silently ascended the stairs to his room. Twilight stepped out of the study and watched him sadly as he closed the door. She sighed softly, then moved over to Celestia. She knew the solar alicorn well enough to see how much pain lay behind the neutral expression, and smiled in apology. “I’m sorry about that, Princess. He’s just...”

Celestia smiled sadly in return. “‘Just a baby dragon?’ I know, Twilight. It’s fine; he has a right to his opinion, and no little justification for it.”

That was an argument Twilight didn’t want to have again, so she took a step back and gestured to the couch. “Please, your highness. I take it you read my report?”

“I have, and I agree with your conclusion that catalyzing further fusion in the sun, even with all your refinements, is just too risky to do over centuries.”

“I’m sorry, Princess, I-”

“-Made more progress in the past six months than we have seen in the past forty millennia?” Celestia’s smile was genuine now. “Apology accepted.”

Twilight smiled back, but awkwardly. “Princess, you don’t understand. That was the best approach I’ve found so far. I’ve seen reports from your agents in Minos, the gryphon kingdom, and the dragon realm. Even Steven Magnet in Swisherland has come up empty on any mysterious artifacts that sound like anything man-made to me, and I hear he’s very influential there.

“I also haven’t found any way to change how the Elements bond...” At Celestia’s questioning brow, Twilight explained, “If we could bond you and one other alicorn to the Elements and then temporarily unlink everypony else, we could have used Starswirl the Bearded’s spell to...”

“...To switch my ‘special gift’ with that of a younger pony before the end of my natural lifespan, and so on before theirs in turn. Very clever!” Celestia looked down, though, as she considered “Sadly, the Elements have not been mine to command since the day of my sister’s exile, and I have tried since you brought them back. Which one would I use? Loyalty? Kindness? So many ghosts might disagree with those, if they had the voices. Generosity? The years that I’ve taken from others would say otherwise. Honesty? I lie every day when I am seen ‘raising the sun.’ As to Pinkie Pie’s Element...” Celestia’s lips quirked in an ugly way as she eyed the door to Spike’s room. “Don’t make me laugh.”

“Or they no longer work for you because you simply no longer feel worthy of them. After all, they did perform for you up until your sister’s... Well. And I can’t help but notice that you left one Element out of that list?” Twilight observed gently.

“Has Trixie had any luck with that one?”

“Last time we tried, she said she saw a little glow..” At Celestia’s optimistic look, Twilight apologetically explained, “To tell the truth, I think it just caught the light in a weird way. She has it now, for further experiments with using it. I’m sending Spike there tomorrow for a few books Zecora found for me. He can ask Trixie if she’s had any better luck.”

“I certainly hope they get along a little better now.”

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Spike felt odd as he approached the library, ready to ask for after-hours admittance at the door of what used to be his own home. Trixie was staying there still until she found a place of her own. He’d raised one hand to knock when Trixie rushed out and collided with him, sending both to the ground.

“Hello, Trixie,” Spike said from where he lay. “Leaving town in a hurry for some reason?” He eyed the diadem in her telekinetic grasp, the Element of magic. “And does that really belong to you?”

Trixie brushed herself off and glared at the little dragon. “Yes, it does. And to answer your earlier question, Trixie is not being run out of town again.” She winced briefly as the “again” slipped out. “Technically, Trixie has never been run out of town.”

“‘Technically’?” Spiked asked with mock innocence and genuine venom.

Trixie stood there, eyes closed, and counted to five. Then ten. “Please get on Trixie’s back.”

“Say again?” Spike asked, now confused and more than a little wary.

“An Ursa Major, and this time I really do mean Major, has come dangerously near the Ponyville end of the Everfree forest. Rainbow Dash let Trixie know before you arrived, and is alerting the other bearers and the Mayor now.”

Spike reluctantly hopped onto Trixie’s back, and Trixie took off at a dead gallop. “Is it attacking?”

Trixie shook her head. “It’s just approaching for now. We are simply being prepared. But, as I’m sure you were looking forward to pointing out, Trixie has not -- quite -- ever truly banished an Ursa Major.” Spike’s mouth opened, but Trixie beat him to it, “Yes, or even an Ursa Minor, so it seemed prudent to bring the Elements. More prudently, in case we cannot use the Elements without Twilight, we now have you to send her a message.” The last, Spike had to privately admit, was said without any of the rancor toward Twilight he’d expected from her, and he fell silent.

They felt the footsteps of the immense beast even before they reached the clearing with the other bearers. The impacts were several seconds apart, which Spike reluctantly realized gave some hint as to the sheer enormity of the beast. He jumped off Trixie’s back as soon as he could, after which she reflexively straightened out her cape before giving Fluttershy a look.

Fluttershy frowned in answer to the unspoken question, “I don’t know what it wants, but those footsteps sound angry.”

“How do footsteps sound angry?” Rarity wondered aloud.

Fluttershy just shrugged at her, but Pinkie spoke up, worried. “By sounding like those!”

Trixie looked at Rainbow Dash next, “Do we know where it is?”

They heard trees splintering in the distance, and looked toward the far edge of the large clearing around them to see that the great beast had just crushed several underfoot. The astral ursinoid was, fortunately, not headed directly toward them, but it’s general direction wasn’t as auspicious for Ponyville.

“About that close,” Rainbow observed nervously.

“Fluttershy? Any chance you could talk to it?” Trixie asked.

Fluttershy just stared back, frozen.

The magician shook her head. “It appears that Trixie has broken Fluttershy. Dash? Could you try leading that thing away?”

“On it!”

The cyan pegasus zipped away, leaving her trademark spectral trail behind her. Covering the considerable distance in a flash, she addressed the beast from near one ear, “Hey, why don’t you pick on a metropolis your own size?” She didn’t expect an answer, of course, but the complete lack of any reaction at all to the challenge was a little disheartening. Her expression determined, she gathered speed. She was simply the fastest flier she knew of, and a pegasus’s natural magic would let her move even more air than speed would ordinarily allow.

She’d bowled over whole crowds of pegasi, inadvertently. She broke the sound barrier itself, routinely and with ease. She could clear a sky in Ten. Seconds. Flat. I’ll handle this, no problem! We’ll all be back home by dinner!

In the distance the other six stared. “Is that a twister she’s makin’?” Applejack asked.

“You mean the little grey swirly bit above the Ursa’s left ear?” Rarity asked

“Eeeyup,” the cowpony agreed sadly.

They saw the tornado dissipate before Rainbow Dash flew back to them, now looking both exhausted and more than a little sheepish. “OK, I’m going to have to grant that thing round one.” At the others’ looks she amended, “Provisionally.”

“Rainbow...” Pinkie said.

“Give me a break, Pinkie. You don’t have to give me the whole ‘I know you tried your best, we’re all proud of you’ speech. This was just round one, like I said.”

“Rainbow...” Trixie spoke up.

“There are other things I can try, you know! I just have to catch my breath and... And that’s not what you all are trying to tell me, is it?” Indeed, her friends had all been looking behind her with growing apprehension.

“It’s following me back here, isn’t it?”

“‘Fraid so.”Applejack answered.

“Aw, horseapples. I’m sorry, girls. Is it at least going to miss Ponyville, now?”

“‘Fraid not.”

“We’re not finished yet, and neither is Ponyville,” Trixie interjected, removing her hat and slipping on the diadem. The others arrayed themselves behind her, their necklaces quickly gathering their characteristic auras. Trixie stared at the Ursa Major, concentrating... Come on, you stubborn little Element. This isn’t for me, it’s for Ponyville. I’m ninety-nine percent sure this time! Work just this once!

Nothing happened. Not the barest glimmer of a glimmer shown about the gem.

Trixie removed the Element, and looked at it in her hooves. “Rainbow,” Trixie said quietly, as she dejectedly gave the diadem to Spike. “Go warn Ponyville, please.” She then took a scroll and quill from beneath her hat, and gave them to Spike as well. “Everypony else would do best to scatter, and then help out the town after that thing passes. Trixie thinks she can distract it with her little fireworks to give you six some more time. Fluttershy, would you carry Spike?”

“Ah ain’t rabbitin’ off while you get stomped flatter’n a pancake,” Applejack asserted, her considerable stubborn running in full overdrive.

“We are simply not leaving,” Rarity announced dramatically, Pinkie nodding firmly in agreement.

“And I’ve got that whole ‘loyalty’ thing to deal with,” Rainbow Dash added. “OK, that didn’t come out right, but you know what I mean.” Even Fluttershy looked more resolute than scared, which was saying something given how scared she looked. Spike, on the other hoof, had gained an apparent fascination with his own toes.

Trixie looked about her and opened her mouth, but all that came out was a small choking sound. She blinked rapidly, swallowed and tried again, her voice a little husky. “Trixie said ‘distract,’ not ‘sacrifice herself like the some uncommonly glamorous speedbump,’” she clarified. “That thing takes six and a half seconds to put its foot down, and Trixie intends to be well out from under-foot whenever it does.

“But... that’s nevertheless very much appreciated,” she added quietly. “Thank you all.”

“Oh,” Rainbow Dash responded, grinning a little in embarrassment. “Well, you know what? Still, nothing doing! The town already knows to be on the lookout, and that thing’s not exactly going to sneak up on anypony.”

“Besides,” Pinkie spoke up, “I think we have a few minutes before it gets here. Maybe we can think of something else to avoid being squished flat!”

“Positive thinking at it’s best, Pinkie. But Fluttershy? You really do have to go, to carry Spike,” Trixie pleaded.

“She would,” the dragon announced miserably. “But Spike isn’t going either.” Trixie looked at him in astonishment, along with everypony else.

“Trixie, I’m sorry,” he explained, as he wiped away some tears. “I blamed you for replacing Twilight. I was scared that I was losing her, and I think after that I blamed you for a lot of other things I can’t really get into. None of that was your fault, but I cared more about how mad I was, and how scared I was, than I cared about being fair.

“I know you were a real pain when you were here before -- both times -- but you’ve been nothing but brave and selfless since you came back, and the whole time I’ve been nothing but terrible to you.” Spike looked at the diadem in his hands. “You’ve grown, and I think now it’s time for me to grow a little, too. I hope you can forgive me. And this...” He looked into the diadem’s gem, swallowed, then held the Element up to her. “I believe this is yours now.”

“Spike,” Trixie said softly, “Trixie knew things were hard for you lately. And, well...” She paused, and said wryly. “Trixie is used to a little scorn now and then.” She then took the crown into her hooves, but only to push it back into Spike’s hands. “Trixie is happy to accept your apology, but she has to face the facts. Trixie is not meant to bear the Element of magic.”

“One more try? Please?”

Rarity coughed lightly. “I hate to break this up this truly beautiful moment, everypony, but, you know... Tremendous, angry, incredibly frightening monster and all?” She turned toward the Ursa when she noticed her necklace glowing again. “Oh, my...”

A brilliant burst of light later, and all seven found themselves laying on the ground.

“Revered artifacts from the dawn o’ time or not, Ah do wish they’d give us some time to brace ourselves before givin’ that kind of a kick,” Applejack said, shaking her head and reaching for her hat. She then broke into a broad grin. “But, more important, welcome to the club, Trix.”

Trixie smiled widely with realization. “Everybody saw that, right? The Ursa Major, banished?” She clapped her forehooves together excitedly. “It really happened this time! Trixie has witnesses and everything!”

“Nope,” Rainbow Dash said, now hovering several meters above them. “It’s not gone, but it is headed back the way it came.”

“‘Vanquished,’ then. ‘Vanquished’ is good enough. And of course Trixie had a little help.” She looked down to the Element in her hooves, and then to Spike. “From everypony.”

Spike smiled back. “I think maybe it was my connection to Twilight that helped. But it’s all yours now,” he added. “I had this weird fear that if I held onto it much longer I would have ended up ‘Princess Spike’ or something.” He then winced at the affront to his dignity as Applejack chuckled and rubbed his head.

“No hard feelings, then?” Trixie asked.

“Not as long as you don’t try to rearrange the books in the town library again. You may be the Element of magic now, but I’m afraid being a proper librarian is something else entirely,” he said seriously.

“I think we’re missing the point here,” Pinkie objected. “A giant monster suddenly decides to march out of the Everfree Forest? Even for Ponyville, that’s strange.”

“Trixie assumed from recent experience here that things like this happen every week, and, for that matter, thought that was why the bearers all came from Ponyville in the first place.”

“Not quite,” Applejack said. “Pinkie’s makin’ sense this time. Like she said, this was a mite out of the ord’nary even for here.”

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

He was in the kitchen when he heard the front door close softly. “Fluttershy, is that you, perchance?”

“Yes, it’s me. Sorry, I’m home a little earlier than I expected.”

“And how was your day?”

“Oh, it was alright, I guess. I freed a bunny that was caught in some vines, put a fledgeling back into her nest, and helped vanquish a maddened Ursa Major.”

“Well, it’s good to stay busy. ‘Idle hooves,’ you know. Which brings me to a minor confession on my part...”

Fluttershy walked into the kitchen, frowning. “What did you do?”

“Well, you know how I’m avoiding being, well, outright evil? And it hasn’t been easy, I can tell you. Sometimes when eating or reading a book I just don’t know what to do with my hands.”

She was tapping a hoof now. “Yes?”

“But harmless mischief is all right, once in a while, don’t you think? I mean, just a little? As long as no one gets hurt?”

“Discord. What. Did. You. Do?”

He turned around with a tray and a broad smile. “I baked cookies! Oatmeal and raisin, your favorite.” He looked briefly apologetic. “Sorry about your diet.”

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Twilight was in her old guest room, now Trixie’s room, the Element of magic in front of her. She touched the gem gently, looking for the faintest sign of light within.

“Quite a party, isn’t it?” an unexpected voice quietly asked.

“Oh! Princess, hello. Yes, it’s, uh, quite a party. Pinkie really outdid herself.” Twilight paused before continuing, a little too brightly. “Trixie deserves it, though, doesn’t she? I mean, I admit I had my doubts, but she’s certainly earned it!”

Celestia nodded. “Yes, of course. You left before it was over, though.”

“Well, it’s Trixie’s party, after all. I would just have been in the way. She’s the bearer of the Element of magic now.” Twilight gently lay the Element within its case. “And everybody was having a lot of fun. Pinkie and A.J. seem especially fond of her. It’s great to see. Really.”

It hadn’t taken Celestia all her forty thousand years to learn when to say nothing, and sometimes it was when it was the other pony who needed to say what needed to be said.

“They’re all having fun, there, and I know Trixie tried to make me feel a part of it.” Her voice caught, just a little. “But that’s the point, isn’t it?” A single tear splashed onto the Element before she closed the case. “She had to try to make me feel a part of it. Princess, I feel awful, and I feel even worse that I feel awful.”

“A little bit of jealousy under the circumstances doesn’t make you a bad pony, Twilight,” Celestia said in her most comforting voice.

Twilight shook her head, holding back more tears. “It’s not a little bit. My friends are visiting me less and less often. I mean, I knew they would, eventually. What do I have in common with them, now? I’m a princess, right? I have to look at the bigger picture now, right? Trixie has my friends, she has my Element...” She sighed. “Celestia, I see Trixie and Spike getting along, and I have to try to not be angry at him for it. After all those lectures to him that he should get along better with her, now I’m actually mad that he’s doing it.

“But that’s not what being a princess is about, right? Running around with her friends and saving Ponyville yet again -- that’s not the life for Princess Twilight Sparkle the First! No, my life is my duty, now. My life is all about finding out how to kill my own beloved teacher, and then probably going down as history’s greatest monster for giving her... giving her the one thing nopony else can! My... life...” She stopped, not quite sobbing, but neither able to continue. Twilight recoiled at first from Celestia’s unexpected nuzzle, then collapsed against the solar alicorn. When she was able to continue, Celestia couldn’t remember her voice so being quiet. “I’d give anything just to be happy for her, I really would.”

“‘Sweet Sunshine,’” Celestia said softly.

“Huh?”

Celestia smiled to herself. The best way to get through to Twilight had always been to give her something to figure out. “That was my name as a foal. You didn’t think we were born ‘Celestia’ and ‘Luna,’ did you? Tradition even back then was to give a name to cover the most likely talents. I’ve always thought my special gift would have been gardening, like my mother’s, but available evidence does suggest my father’s gift for confections may have won out.” This last brought a quick giggle from Twilight, barely audible, but there.

Celestia continued, “After our transformation, we were made princesses under the Equestrian king and queen of the time for our protection. They passed on, their lines dwindled, and as we grew in experience the responsibilities of rule gradually fell upon us. And in truth, despite my complaints about politics, we do both love taking care of our little ponies.

“It seems that over the millennia, though, I’d forgotten how painful it was at first to leave my old life behind. Sweet Sunshine’s life. And now I’ve asked you to leave behind the happy life that I first thrust you into, years ago.” Celestia shook her head in self-recrimination. “On top of the overwork I knew you’d do, on top of shaking your perceptions of everything you thought you knew, and on top of laying such a heavy emotional burden upon you, I did this to you. Twilight, I’m so sorry.”

Twilight sniffled, but nuzzled back and gathered her composure. “It’s not your fault, Princess.”

“It is, Twilight. It was all for the very best of reasons, but it is my responsibility.” She looked reassuringly at Twilight and said, “Maybe I can make amends. My sister has informed me of one likely artifact she sensed some time ago, one less exposed to the elements. My desire to be sensitive to the circumstances of the time she discovered it led me to hold this option in reserve. I think the risks can be minimized, and I think we can tell your friends just enough for them to make an informed decision as to get involved.”

Twilight’s gears were turning almost audibly. Less exposed to the elements... Circumstances of the time... “You’re kidding. You’re kidding, right? Wait!” Twilight grimaced and stepped back. “I know what you’re doing. You’re giving me something exciting to distract me.”

“Guilty as charged,” Celestia admitted coyly.

Twilight rolled her eyes at her mentor and sovereign. “And it’s working, too. And you know what?” She suddenly grinned. “I love it! Thank you, Princess!”

Celestia nodded, but her own expression had darkened in counterpoint to her student’s. “Allow me to tell my sister first, though.”

Twilight’s eyes widened with realization, and she nodded hastily. “Oh. Yes. Yes, I think I can do that. Yes.”

Author's Note

I think talking is a free action during a giant monster attack.