Twilight had never really liked trains. Sure they were a great way to get from one place to another, but they could only go where their tracks took them, never deviating from the path on which they'd been set. Not to mention the fact that she thought they were loud and shaky, making them one of the most uncomfortable modes of transportation.

The train currently transporting her through the Badlands could be called an exception of sorts. It made use of the latest designs and architecture, meaning that all the problems remaining were minor at best. Still, if given the option, Twilight would’ve preferred to go by carriage.

The inside of the train was fit for royalty. Twilight was still coming to terms with that. The lavish furnishings, golden filigree and delicious food delivered at a whim were all wonderful, but felt excessive for somepony who still considered herself a somewhat frugal librarian.

The light airy silk curtains shielding the windows weren’t much help in the way of sound reduction, yet it was a lot less noisy than on a normal train. Courtesy of a dampening spell she had designed and cast herself. Though even without the auditory problems, there was still the shaking as the train passed over the poorly maintained tracks, which kept her from falling asleep.

It left her utterly exhausted. For two long months, she had spent nearly every waking moment inside this metal box on wheels, disembarking only to briefly see a city and sometimes give an impromptu speech before moving on to the next one. Sixty one days, seven hours and three minutes of touring through all the major cities of Equestria in an attempt to get everypony acquainted with her new status.

Looking out the window, she let out a heavy sigh. Despite the bags hanging under her eyes, her listlessly drooping wings, and what must have been the worst bed mane in the history of ponykind, she knew that she wouldn’t be getting any more sleep tonight.

She sat up to the nearby window, watching as the desert lands rolled past. They were dry, lifeless and looked about as exhausted as she felt.

A set of cleverly designed mirrors placed throughout the wagon gave the impression of a much more open space, and a few simple spells reinforced the illusion. Yet despite all of that, she felt trapped, Celestia’s presence filling the room even though her body only occupied a fraction of it.

She could’ve read a book from the bookcase that spanned the opposite wall and held most of her favorite reading material, were it not for the fact that she had already read all of them. Thrice. Even stargazing didn’t appeal to her.

Sighing again, she looked away from the window, her eyes wandering back to the cause of her apparent inability to find joy in much of anything. Near the entrance to the cabin, sprawled out on a pile of pillows that served as a makeshift bed, lay a shimmering white form.

Princess Celestia.

The princess’ breathing was soft and rhythmic, occasionally interrupted by a dainty snort or a murmured shred of conversation. If it were any other pony, Twilight would have noted that they were sleeping peacefully. Coming from Celestia, the barely perceptible motions captivated her utterly. They made it hard to think about anything else, and, unfortunately, made it impossible for her to fall asleep.

She had given up trying to tell herself that she shouldn’t stare. After eight weeks of trying and failing to avert her eyes, she knew it was no use. It was unproductive, unhelpful, and not to mention, rude. With Celestia curled up on a pair of pillows like she was, however, that knowledge was completely irrelevant.

Before Twilight had tried to occupy herself with the landscape, she had re-read one of the driest books she could find. Before ‘A Statistical Analysis on Analytical Statistics’, she had experimented with her magic, poking and prodding the sound dampening field to see if there wasn’t some way she could improve it. None of it could distract her from Celestia for long, however, and none of it helped her sleep.

When they were out and about during the day, it was relatively easy to put her mentor out of her mind, focusing her attention on greeting ponies and shaking hooves. At lunch, she could at least pull back her focus to her food and drown it in attempts to discern how a dish had been prepared. Even when talking to the Princess directly, she had found ways to keep her mind active on the conversation rather than the princess herself. She used distancing language, referring to herself only as Celestia’s faithful student and letting the elder Alicorn lead the conversation away from anything that could potentially give her away.

Here inside the train, however, she couldn’t do any of those. Nothing she did could make her stop yearning to lovingly touch her mentor. To run a hoof through her mane and another through her downy plumage. Twilight wanted desperately to feel her mentor’s strong forelegs around her in a hug. A hug similar to the ones she’d gotten as a filly, yet infinitely different in meaning.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and let her eyes take in the details of the princess’ face again. She knew it wasn’t to be. It wasn’t the type of bond they shared, and that was very unlikely to change. The princess was a lot of things to her; first and foremost, a mentor, but she also served as a confidant, and even took the role of a mother figure at times. Yet none of them translated into the one thing she really wanted Celestia to be.

A wry smile played across her lips. Even if she’d had the guts to confess how she felt, finding the time to actually tell Celestia in private was nigh impossible. Throughout their entire trip, Celestia had been busier than Twilight had ever seen her. The princess seemed to operate in a perpetual state of exhaustion, shaking hooves, smiling, planning, teaching Twilight the finer points of diplomatic truth-stretching, and a whole slew more. Things had been hectic. She corrected herself with a slight shake of her head. Things had been more than hectic; they had been crazy.

And after every day, when they retired and the train was set in motion, Celestia would stumble over to the makeshift bed and be asleep before her head hit the pillows. She spent all the travel time she had in a heap on the floor, not bothered in the slightest by the shaking of the car. Which meant that even in the only place they truly had some privacy she never got the chance.

Celestia always gave so much of herself that a bath or proper grooming were often forgone entirely, yet despite that, Celestia always managed to look... beautiful.

After this public relations affair was over, they would part ways again. Celestia would go back to Canterlot Castle and Twilight...

Twilight swallowed the lump in her throat and blinked away the tears that always threatened when these thoughts ambushed her.

She would never be anything more than a ‘faithful student’.

She angrily rubbed away the tears with the front of her leg. It doesn’t matter, it’s better this way.

The only protest she got was her heart pounding against her ribcage violently. It felt like somepony had blown a crater into it.

I wonder what her wings feel like

She of all ponies knew that the mind could be a fickle thing. This time, however, it was her own mind that betrayed her. It was like her mind had latched onto that single thought, and amplified it until it was all she could think about. She began pacing back and forth, trying to corral her thoughts back into line, with little success.

Why not find out what they feel like?

I can’t do that! What if she wakes up?

Twilight threw a nervous glance in Celestia’s direction. She was convinced that the princess could somehow hear her thoughts. Her mind, however, didn’t relent.

Celestia waking up from a soft touch? Please. You’ve seen how easily she falls asleep. Even without the dampening spells, she practically crashes into dreamland every day.

Twilight wanted to argue; wanted to tell herself that there was no way she could do something that audacious. That she was a logical pony and couldn’t simply act on whimsical impulses. She had tricked herself. Celestia wouldn’t wake up from a soft touch, of that she was certain. It seemed like a once in a lifetime opportunity before she had to go back to Ponyville and writing letters about friendship while she felt so much more.

She tiptoed closer to the bed, trying not to disrupt the aura of serenity Celestia exuded. Twilight stopped dead in her tracks the moment Celestia let out a content sigh and rolled onto her back, unfurling her wings in the process, which made Twilight’s breath hitch as they came to rest on the floor.

Go on, she’ll never know.

Resistance crumbling, Twilight found that she couldn’t tear her eyes away. She tried to reason with herself even as she stepped closer to the sleeping princess.

That doesn’t matter, I’ll know! I can’t betray her trust like that!

Are you really, though? Remember how she used to hug you when you were little? You just want to feel that again, right? Acceptance? She let out a sigh which carried off a lot of the tension as she recalled easier times.

Yes. With a few more quick steps, Celestia was within a hoof’s reach; all she had to do was lean down and touch.

She set herself down near the wing joints. Now that she had given up trying to convince herself otherwise, she wanted to look, really look at her mentor, drink in the details of the pony she was always close to while they were out meeting and greeting the public. In public, there was no place for familiarity. There was the occasional nod or wave. Talking would have only been an option if ponies didn’t constantly hound either of them for one thing or another, and something as intimate as a hug was out of the question. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had been this close to the princess.

Throughout the years she had spent under Celestia’s tutelage, she had hugged the princess many times, and always gleefully accepted when the princess leaned down to offer her one. Though at some point she couldn’t remember clearly, it had stopped, replaced by smiles and nods, mixed with some polite conversation.

Celestia’s mane billowed erratically, doing what it wanted while its mistress wasn’t awake to keep it in line. It traced Twilight’s fetlocks as she sat down, as if inviting her to go ahead. Though, for the moment, Twilight was content merely watching.

She didn’t think that she would ever grow used to the idea that one day her horn would be as long as Celestia’s. Though it governed the use of magic, Celestia’s horn also added a certain regal flair that Twilight was sure she would never have.

She wondered if she’d ever stop feeling clumsy. It always seemed like she was stumbling after the princess, like a newborn foal taking their first steps. Celestia seemed born for her role as princess, always calm and elegant. She had a certain fluidity and grace to her movements which Twilight couldn’t imitate no matter how many times she tried.

She suspected that it had something to do with her wings. She still hadn’t learned how to fly— at least, not without a little magical cheating— and even when she wasn’t flying, her center of balance felt like it was in the wrong place. Her wings felt gangly and disproportionate to her body, and it had been a challenge simply to walk in a straight line at first. By comparison, Celestia’s wings were large and majestic, with a wingspan which dwarfed that of any two Pegasi put side by side, yet she had no such problems.

After those first problematic few days, Twilight had done what she did best. She had immersed herself in books. She had learned more about the theory behind aerodynamics and wing care than she had ever thought possible, but not a single useful source of information about how to deal with unwieldy wings, aside from a small booklet titled ‘So, You’ve Grown Wings’.

Any resistance she had left melted when she noticed a few crooked feathers among the princess’ primaries. Her own experiences with crooked feathers and preening had been nothing short of painful and she wasn’t going to let Celestia suffer from badly preened wings as well. The theory of preening was rather straightforward, but as always, practice proved to be much harder.

Her earlier contentment evaporated. She leant down and carefully ran her muzzle through the feathers of the wing, clamping her lips around the crooked feathers and gently tugging them back into alignment, and accidentally pulled one out of its socket when she tugged a little too hard.

She muttered a silent apology while she continued her preening. The feathers felt soft against her cheeks, and she lost herself in the sensation until a low groan from Celestia made her jerk back, taking another of the feathers with her.

It was a minute before she dared breathe again, and another two before she felt safe enough to move. She took the feathers she had so clumsily pulled out and tucked them underneath her own wing. Better not leave them lying around.

After preening the other wing as well, Twilight moved to Celestia’s chest. She ran her muzzle cheek through the well kempt fur and reveled in the sensations it brought when Celestia moved again.

The princess rolled over onto her side, trapping Twilight a cage of a foreleg and a wing, and squeezing her like a teddy bear. It made breathing difficult and moving all but impossible, so Twilight kept still, afraid of waking her mentor, and even more afraid of what Celestia would say if she found out what her faithful student had been doing.

The princess had always been encouraging in her teachings, but Twilight hadn’t gotten through the years without a few stern reprimands for doing things she wasn’t supposed to. They hadn’t been too bad all things considered, but sneaking cupcakes from the kitchen —which Celestia had taken a few of herself after the reprimand— and getting caught red hoofed with a book filled with spells she had been told she wasn’t anywhere near ready for —Where she had simply used her newly learned teleportation spell after being grounded— were nothing compared to this.

She wanted to cry. Not only had she betrayed her teacher’s trust, but having been as close to Celestia as she was right now was everything she dreamed of.

“Because ignorance is bliss, Twilight,” Celestia had replied cryptically when a very young Twilight had asked her why there weren’t more ponies interested in studying and learning.

Younger Twilight hadn’t understood what the princess had meant, but now she finally did. The prospect of having to go back to being just a faithful student terrified her. She didn’t know if she could bear the longing for the princess, which had grown exponentially with each feather she had helped smooth over as she lay there next to her princess.

There was only one thing that scared her more than that.

A disappointed, or even angry, Princess Celestia; to see the mare she so admired put on the mask of aloofness she normally used for the public and shun her, cast her out of whatever good graces she had been privileged to be in. It would be more than she could bear.

Celestia would be furious if she found out.

The decision was easy. She carefully began to extract herself from the feathery embrace, halting every time her ears picked up even the slightest sound from her unknowing companion. After a good amount of wiggling and squirming, she was clear enough that another few seconds would mean freedom, and the crushing knowledge that she could not have what she wanted.

She hesitated for a split second, just long enough to brush a hoof along a wing.

Then disaster struck.

Two slender white forelegs draped themselves around her neck and pulled her back into an embrace. It was something she had been longing for, though the circumstances were less than ideal.

She was hoisted up and came face to face with Celestia. She closed her eyes and braced herself for the inevitable tirade. Celestia would condemn her and ask her to leave the train at the next station, if she didn’t throw Twilight off right away.

When the expected anger didn’t come and Twilight instead found herself being smothered against her teacher’s white fur, she wondered if all her fear had been unfounded. Her heart fluttered at the thought and she had to prevent herself from squealing.

As she calmed down, she realised she was closer than ever. Celestia had pressed Twilight to her chest and was squeezing for all she was worth. Her mouth was parted ever so slightly, her breath hit Twilight’s muzzle, and her left ear flicked at some unseen annoyance. Celestia was still asleep. Twilight’s relief vanished when Celestia scrunched up her face in fear and almost crushed her with what wasn’t quite a hug anymore.

She’s having a nightmare.

The realisation tore the last of her fear to shreds and replaced it with concern; what in the world could be bad enough to give the princess nightmares? She shook her head dismissively; worrying wouldn’t help. she had to do something.

Being a princess had its perks. Being able to observe either princess as they used their own particular brand of magic was one of them. Neither Celestia nor Luna had ever really realised what Twilight’s special talent entailed, and for the longest time, she herself had believed it to simply be ‘magic’ as she’d always been told. When she had eventually figured out that her natural aptitude for spells was such that she could replicate any spell after having seen it cast once, it became a guilty pleasure.

Before long, it became more than that. Collecting, and especially mastering, difficult spells she had seen other ponies perform was a way to broaden her horizons, and it quickly became a relished challenge.

To help Celestia, she would have to try a type of magic she had only seen Luna perform a scant few times. While only Luna seemed capable of ‘dreamstriding,’ as she put it, Twilight could cast Lunar Dream Magic. Unlike normal unicorn magic which was conjured and controlled with willpower and focus, this brand of magic made use of intricate mental and magical runes.

While it wasn’t as taxing as dreamstriding, the spell would nonetheless require a significant initial surge of magic to cast and a lot of focus to maintain its stability. Power she had in spades, but focus... she was still learning. On the other hoof, the worst thing that could happen if she failed the spell was a severe headache, and adding whatever nightmare Celestia was having to her own personal collection of blood curdling night terrors. The reward was worth it.

She worked quickly, unwilling to let her mentor endure the nightmares a second longer than she needed to. She wrapped her horn in arcane energies and drew the runes in her mind’s eye. When Luna had cast the spell, Twilight had been preoccupied with observation and study of the spell itself to pay close attention to its effects. Now she saw them in their full glory.

Her magic wove itself through the runes she had drawn and exploded into little puffs of shimmering dust, like sand kicked up on a beach. It settled on everything in the room and Twilight shivered as the nightmares fleeing from her mentor’s dream realm brushed past her on their way back to the night sky. Celestia visibly relaxed, her grimace fading back into an open, unguarded smile that Twilight wished could be leveled at her just once.

With the fear behind the grip that had kept her trapped gone, it wasn’t hard for Twilight to squirm out of Celestia’s grasp. She carefully removed herself from the princess’ embrace, obliging her thoughts in their flight of fancy only after she was free.

Not for the first time, she found herself wondering what it could be like to kiss the alabaster Alicorn. Was Celestia passionate in her romance? Everything Twilight knew about her would suggest that she would be gentle, and in control. But one of the first lines of the books she had been reading had been about how love can be unpredictable. So perhaps Celestia was passionate, with wet sloppy kisses instead, or measured ones with very little real passion behind them.

Would her lips be warm, or cold? Soft, or firm? Would she taste like sweet strawberries, like Twilight had always imagined? She felt a tingle run down her spine just thinking about the numerous possibilities.

She realised she could find out. You could steal a kiss. Just one, she’ll never find out.

But what if she wakes up? I don’t want her to hate me...

Isn’t it worth the risk?

Twilight bit her lip as she looked over the princess again. Could it really be so bad? Nopony had to know. She took a deep breath and steeled herself, turning around resolutely and starting the walk back to her seat. I am not going to betray my teacher’s trust by taking a kiss not freely given. Pretty sure that would count as stealing... not to mention several other things.

Her determination crumbled with every step. She had already done some things she shouldn’t have; how bad could one kiss be? When she glanced back one last time, the option of rational thought was taken from her. Celestia had rolled over onto her back, wings splayed out on either side and her forehooves held close to her chest as if she were a puppy.

A single one wouldn’t hurt.

Three quick steps and she was back where she had come from, and with a few more she was standing over her. She placed her hooves carefully, trying to make sure she wouldn’t step on either of the princess’ wings, and shivered when the princess’ forelegs grazed her chest.

With the nightmares gone, Celestia looked so peaceful. Twilight would have lost herself in the sight if it weren’t for her mind reminding her of why she was here.

She knew it was wrong. She knew she shouldn’t. She knew that everything would come crumbling down if Celestia ever found out. Yet, in spite of all of all the things she knew, she couldn’t help but want some good memory to cherish when the tour ended and Celestia would inevitably send her back to Ponyville. She licked her lips and leaned in.

Celestia’s lips felt warm and soft, tasting more like the chocolate cake they’d had for dessert than strawberries, and although she wasn’t kissing back, it was still one of the best feelings in the world.

She moaned softly, startling herself and jerking away from the princess.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, what if she—

Her train of the thought derailed as a large wing flexed and knocked her clean across the room. She landed on her side a few hoof breadths from her seat near the window. The sudden movement hadn’t just knocked the wind out of her, it had also knocked the fear back in. She had been caught red hooved, and didn’t even need to look to imagine what was going to happen next.

“Twilight Sparkle!”

She would look at the princess after getting an earful of the royal Canterlot voice and see the shock and betrayal in those beautiful rose colored eyes. Celestia would get up and walk forward. Still elegant, but with any fluidity replaced by a stiff rigid stride until the princess stood in front of her, towering over her like the wrathful goddess she was.

“What were you doing?!” That would be the first blow, Celestia not understanding, or perhaps not wishing to understand.

Twilight would stammer and try to explain herself but even if she could come up with a good excuse, Celestia wouldn’t want to hear it. She would have to listen as the princess paced around the room, lecturing her on all the things she had done which would be followed by the second blow when Celestia stripped her of her titles. Not the title of princess, it was doubtful that even Celestia could take that away from her, but the most important one.

“You are no longer worthy of being my student. get out of my sight.”

“But princess, please...” She would make one final attempt,blubbering out an apology for everything she had ever done in incoherent sentences. Celestia would hear, but wouldn’t really be listening. Eventually, she would run out of things to say, and anything she had said would prove to be for naught. In the end, she would hang her head, and do as she was told, faithful despite the fact that she was no longer a student.

Then, upon reaching the door the door, Celestia would deliver the finishing blow. “Years of caring tutelage, and you repay my trust with this... this violation. I never wish to see you again, Twilight Sparkle. Get out before I banish you to the farthest point of the world!”

She realised she was crying when she felt tears rolling down her cheeks. She made no attempt to hide them; Celestia would figure figure it out anyway. “Please forgive me,” she mumbled. She wanted to close her ears, her eyes, her mind. Her head hurt and she wanted to disappear, to crawl into her bed and never come out again lest the sun reminded her of the very special pony that hated her.

Even with blurry vision, she could imagine the shock on Celestia’s face. She could only cry harder, knowing without a doubt that what her mind had shown her already was going to happen, step by agonizing step.

Celestia hadn’t moved, but Twilight tuned out what she was saying, her brain trying to guard her fragile heart from the pain she was certain was coming. She got up in a daze, stumbling towards the door in the rear of the car; any moment now the princess would tell her to leave or be banished, so the faster she complied, the better. If she was fast enough, maybe she wouldn’t even have to hear Celestia say those words she really didn’t want to hear, and be spared that final blow.

Four steps... three steps... She left a trail of tears as she made her way towards the door.

“Twilight, stop.” The words sounded as if they’d had to claw through a wall of syrup to reach her. She ignored them, desperately wanting to get out.

She reached out to the doorknob with her magic, only to find it blocked by a familiar golden glow. Her blood froze in her veins; Celestia wasn’t going to let her go until she had heard everything the princess had to say.

She swallowed heavily, turning around while keeping her head low and her eyes on the floor. She couldn’t stop Celestia from being angry, she couldn’t explain herself, and apparently she couldn’t get away either. That didn’t mean that she wanted to see the shock and disgust on her mentor’s face, however.

“Twilight.” Celestia's voice was a lot closer now. Was the princess going to hit her too? In the right state of mind, she would have laughed at the ridiculous notion. Now, however, she wasn’t sure.

She flattened her ears against her skull. Celestia had always been gentle with her, and had always supported her when she needed it, but now... now she was the disappointment.

“Twilight, look at me.”

A well-manicured hoof reached under her chin and lifted her head until she was looking straight at her mentor’s face. She saw the disappointment she had expected to see, but there was no anger. Regardless of her fear and pain, she was still mesmerized. She found confusion next to the disappointment, and something else, something she had no idea what to make of.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Twilight,” Celestia said softly.

Mesmerization broken, Twilight jerked away from Celestia’s hoof and brought her gaze back to the floor. “Yes... you are.” her voice cracked making words come out a great deal more desperate than she would have liked. She couldn’t help it.

Celestia moved swiftly, and before the trembling purple alicorn could protest, she had been pulled into another hug, intentional this time. She melted into the embrace and let the softly murmured reassurances that everything would be alright carry her.

She always felt safe when Celestia held her. Protected. Secure. Whatever fears had taken hold in her naturally paranoid mind were muted and diminished within her teacher’s embrace.

“I’m sorry, princess... I’m so sorry.”

The relief that she wouldn’t be banished was swept away by the fact that she was going to have to hear Celestia crush her dream. It was banishment, but of a different sort. The fact that the princess would never love her remained rooted in her mind. Of course Celestia wasn’t going to come down from her pedestal for a pony like her, alicorn though she may have become.

I should go. Back to Ponyville.

It felt like the best option; she could tell Celestia that she was sick, which wasn’t a lie if you counted heartbreak as a sickness. She would go back to Ponyville and ask Pinkie to throw her a party to try and forget. Her friends wouldn’t ask too many questions, hopefully.

Can you drown sorrows in punch...?

She was thinking about doing exactly what she had wanted to avoid before this whole mess started. But then, before acting on her impulses, she could have been happy simply admiring the princess from afar. She couldn’t go back to that now; she had come too close, experienced too much.

“Princess,” she started, intending to get it out of the way as soon as she possibly could. Unfortunately Celestia didn’t let her get past that first word.

“Twilight, why would I hurt you?”

“...” Watching those lips curled up in a comforting smile should have made it easy to explain. She couldn’t. As long as she didn’t say it out loud, she could still hope. She needed to find a way out so she could go home and continue believing that there was a chance.

“D-did I say that?” Twilight forced a chuckle. It came out sounding weak and pathetic. “I didn’t mean that. I was... uhm... I was just upset.”

Celestia fixed her with a stern gaze. “I could always tell when you were lying, Twilight, that hasn’t changed.”

“I—” she choked, dry swallowing whatever was stuck in her throat. The small sphere of hope she had created in her heart deflated with a squeaky wheeze, which made the dam keeping her emotions in check burst.

“It’s... I...” her breathing became laborious until she was almost hyperventilating. “It’s... like... It’s like I’m in a library... the biggest and best in the world. And there’s this book... the book that holds information to everything I ever wanted to know about, and that I really want to read. But It’s on the highest shelf in the restricted section of the library. So while I can look up to where that book is... I can only look, never touch... and it hurts.”

She held her breath after finishing her monologue. With a little luck, the princess would understand what she meant without having to say the exact words. Luck, however, was not on her side.

“No analogies, Twilight, not this time.”

“I... I... can’t. I’m sorry.” Her body buckled, exhaustion sapping even her ability to stay upright. Her hind legs went first, causing her backside to hit the floor with a plop. Her forelegs soon followed, leaving her a thoroughly flattened-looking pony.

It was over. No more hopes about a life with the princess. No more dreams about how she was going to prove herself worthy someday. When all was said and done, she couldn’t even admit to the most important feelings of her life, making sure that there wasn’t some way she could delude herself into thinking otherwise. The princess would understand. Of course she will. Celestia would let her go back to Ponyville, back to her familiar, safe, and most of all empty library. More importantly, she could go back to her friends. She needed a shoulder to cry on.

She stiffened when the princess settled down next to her. A majestic white wing draped itself across her back and her breath caught, followed by a soft whimpering when Celestia gave her a light nuzzle.

“Dry your tears, little one,” she said with the tone she had always used when she was about to explain the trick behind something particularly demanding. Anything from difficult spells to important life lessons, and Twilight had a sneaking suspicion that this one would fall into the latter category.

She dragged her foreleg along her eyes. It came away soaked, yet the tears wouldn’t stop coming. That in turn brought fresh pain. Even after all the mistakes she’d made, she still couldn’t do the simplest things the princess asked of her.

“S-sorry,” she mumbled in reply. “I can’t.”

Celestia said nothing for a long while, looking at her student while the gears in her head turned. Finally, she leaned down and kissed away Twilight’s tears. Twilight gasped but Celestia wasn’t done. She rested her forehead against Twilight’s and gave her a gentle nudge, finishing off with a kiss on each of Twilight’s eyelids.

“There,” she said as she pulled away. “Much better. Now, why were you crying?”

Twilight stared at her in disbelief; why was she asking again? “Because I lo—” The words got stuck in her throat. She swallowed them and tried again. “Because I l-l lov—” Her eyes started leaking again. “I l—” Her breath was stolen by Celestia who had placed her lips firmly on Twilight’s own.

Confusion and joy fought over her heart. Joy won out, and with a happy little squeal she leaned into the kiss, letting herself be guided by the lips and direction of the older mare. The kiss didn’t last nearly long enough for Twilight’s liking, but her lung capacity wasn’t infinite.

“I love you too, Twilight Sparkle.”

Twilight’s mind, industrious as it was, immediately started churning out questions she wanted to ask.

Why did I not notice if that’s really the case? Why did she never tell me before? What do I do now? And a million more besides.

Before she could pose any of them, Celestia kissed her again, leaving her breathless while the princess, Her princess, preempted the flow of questions with a simple gesture and some answers.

“I’ve always loved you, Twilight.” She giggled airily. “The day we met was the start of some of the happiest years I’ve had. At first, I assumed it was motherly affection, especially because of the happiness that came from seeing you take to your studies with such glee. Later, I thought it was closer to the love of a friend...”

Twilight opened her mouth, closing it only after receiving a squeeze from the princess’ wing. A clear prompt to remain silent and listen.

“I think I really fell in love with you after the events with Nightmare Moon. I always knew you had it in you, but that day really made me see how brave and stro—”

“I wasn’t! I was scared to death the whole time!” Twilight blurted out. “If the girls hadn’t helped me when they did, I would have failed. She would have banished you and then...” she shut her mouth, feeling her heart hammer furiously in her chest as if to say ‘why couldn’t you just be happy with the praise?’

“Bravery doesn’t mean you’re not afraid, Twilight. It means that you press forward despite being afraid.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Twilight’s sudden question startled the princess. Her tone was more accusatory than she would have liked but she simply couldn’t help it.

“Because I wanted you to—”Celestia stopped and shook her head. “No, I needed to give you a chance to find your own happiness.”

“Why? Why did you let me believe that you didn’t love me?”

“What would you have done, had I come to your room a week, or even a day after you had been accepted as my faithful student and proclaimed that I loved you, Twilight?” Celestia fidgeted after she had asked the question, suddenly uncomfortable in the position she was sitting in.

“I would have returned the sentiment, although I probably wouldn’t have used the word sentiment back then,” Twilight replied with an air of confusion.

Celestia laughed. A full deep belly laugh that Twilight had only heard a scant few times throughout her life. She couldn’t help but let out a giddy squee when Celestia placed a kiss on her head, right next to her horn. “That is one of the things I love about you, Twilight. You look at things differently than most ponies. But that’s not what I meant.”

This time, Twilight didn’t need any prompting to remain silent. She was quickly learning that, sometimes, simply by listening, she could get more answers than by asking the most well-formulated questions.

Celestia looked her in the eyes and Twilight could imagine she saw the pain of a thousand lifetimes there. “What if you hadn’t loved me, Twilight? What if you were looking forward to finding a colt friend? Settling down and raising a family of your own?” Twilight realised that she wasn’t imagining it. Celestia’s eyes were filled with what up untill now had been a hidden pain, and her normally impeccable posture had fallen slightly.

She tried to picture what the princess had said in her mind. “I would’ve felt like...” She fell silent. Never before had she taken the fine line between admiration and duty that ponies around the princess walked. Twilight herself had never felt it that way, doing everything she had done out of love for Celestia, or the fear of losing it.

“Do you see it now, my faithful student?” Celestia asked her. She appeared to have shaken off most of the sadness and pain, but Twilight could still see some of it lurking behind the very convincing but ultimately faux smile the princess had plastered on her face.

"But none of that matters anymore, right?" she asked with a hint of concern.

"No, I suppose it doesn't." Celestia admitted with a soft smile.

Twilight tried out a smile of her own but found that it didn't sit right on her face. It felt fake. She needed to make Celestia understand that it would all be okay, and who knew, with a little luck, she might convince herself as well. While it felt like her wildest dreams were coming true, a lifetime of insecurity wasn't easily forgotten.

She wanted to embrace Celestia and express how happy she was, now more than ever. The fear of ruining the connection she had just obtained withheld her, however. It might be too much of a risk.

She absently rubbed her cheek against Celestia's side, taking comfort in the texture. She stopped when Celestia moved, looking up and losing herself in Celestia’s caring eyes. She also found love in those magenta pools. Love that must have always been there, but she had been too scared to see.

The princess smiled and nudged her in turn. Shaking her out of her silent reverie. "What is it, Twilight?"

"Could I... I mean... Can I? Is it possible that I...?" Twilight groaned, even with the hardest part behind her, she was still scared and tripping over her words.

"Nevermind," she said with a sigh after a minute of fruitlessly trying to come up with a coherent sentence. She would have given most anything for a dictionary right then.

This is good enough. I don’t need any more. Like her smile, the thoughts felt fake. A dream of something better buried under a blanket of fear.

She felt a kiss on her cheek and saw Celestia patiently smiling at her. She had either been thinking about the same things, or she could literally sense Twilight’s intentions. Twilight wouldn’t put it past her; the princess had an uncanny knack for knowing what she was thinking and empathy seemed as likely as any other explanation.

"Don’t give up now, Twilight. If you can’t find the words, perhaps you could show me what you mean?"

Twilight was hesitant. Returning the gesture would be crossing a line. A line she wasn’t sure she could return from if she made the decision to cross it. On the other hoof, it was just a chaste kiss on the cheek, she didn’t have to tell Celestia about anything else, right? It was a long shot from what she really wanted, but for now this would have to do.

"Twilight..." The patient smile was still there, only temporarily fading when the lips moved to produce sounds. Celestia had always had that smile when Twilight frustrated herself with a problem though now it looked subtly different. It was less like the smile of an ancient goddess, which held boundless patience and gentle reassurance. Instead it was a smile befitting a flesh and blood pony, holding the same gentle patience, but with a hint of eagerness as well.

“Twilight, It's okay. You are okay."

She heard the words but had difficulty accepting them. She wished she could make the statement tangible. To be able to touch it before strapping it down and running tests on it. Her heart needed to verify what her ears told her brain; that Celestia was being completely sincere.

"Am I really?" In those three little words she tried to convey how she felt. How for so many long years she had been convinced that she wasn’t good enough. That she still felt like she wasn’t.

Celestia’s simple answer shattered those doubts with a hammer and broke it into little pieces. "Yes you are. Now..." The warm wing on her back vanished and she watched as the princess got up. For a moment Twilight thought that she had done something wrong, until she noticed the slight bounce in Celestia’s stride as she made her way to the far end of the wagon, back to the pile of pillows that served as a makeshift bed.

"I know it's scary,” the princess continued, talking like she was still right next to Twilight. “But try not to worry for once.”

Twilight didn't know what had changed, but when Celestia settled down on the pillows, her gentle smile had vanished. Replacing it was a coy but enticing grin that stretched from ear to ear and made Celestia look even more stunning.

Celestia suddenly giggled, which made Twilight blink. It made the princess sound so young and happy that she immediately knew she wanted to hear it again. A moment later she realised why Celestia was giggling. Her cheeks tinted red while she flexed her wings, hopelessly trying to get them to behave. She silently promised them vengeance for making her look like a lovestruck filly. Then again, she supposed she was.

Over on the pillows, the princess slowly let her own wings unfurl. It was majestic gesture compared to Twilight’s stiff, uncooperative appendages, which were more embarrassing than helpful. Seeing the princess’ feathery appendages mirror her own was comforting. While often uncontrolled and very embarrassing for young flyers, older Pegasi —or an Alicorn— only displayed their wings like this when either preparing for flight or... something more intimate.

She no longer felt weird or out of place. Or maybe she just felt like the princess understood what she was afraid of. Whichever one it was, seeing those white wings on full display excited her a great deal as well.

Is that wrong? I love her right? I don’t just want—

"Twilight.” Celestia’s voice was soft but firm. “Stop thinking."

Easier said than done. Nonetheless, Twilight closed her eyes shut out the world, trying to still her active mind. When she opened her eyes again, the first thing she noticed was a soft tapping. Following it to the source she saw Celestia patting a pillow, while her smile did all the talking. “Come.” it said. “Sit.”

A few strides, and she sat down, shooting a questioning glance at Celestia. “What do I do now?”

Something about the princess had changed. She paired a beguiling smile with movement from her tail. Twilight could feel the ethereal hairs touch and tease their way across her sides, coming to rest right underneath her chin. Celestia softly blew into her ear and said, “Whatever you want.”

Twilight knew what it meant. She had read enough books on the subject to know what seduction was, but it brought back her insecurities. She’d never done anything like this before. Even the things she had read about and prepared for didn’t go quite that far. How could she ever be good enough for Celestia?

“Twilight...” Celestia sounded disappointed and Twilight could feel her throat tighten.

She lowered her head with a whimper. Failure. She failed again. She had gotten close, so very close, but close didn’t cut it when it came to the things that really mattered.

Twilight noticed that her eyes were drifting back. She couldn’t stop herself from wanting to look at Celestia. Never before had she seen this sexy side of the princess, and it made her irresistible. At least it would have been, if Twilight hadn’t been so afraid.

When she finally looked up, the captivating creature that had lured her to the bed was nowhere to be found. The Celestia giving her a sad smile wasn’t trying to be flirty, or alluring. She was simply the Celestia Twilight had always known, and had fallen in love with.

Twilight didn’t know if it was magic or simply the feeling that Celestia accepted her, faults and all, but she felt inspired to give Celestia the best she could offer. Quickly, before her courage failed her again, she closed the distance and kissed Celestia on the lips. It felt even better than the first time, but she refused to get lost in the sensation. There would be time for that later. For now she wouldn't stop for anything... With the possible exception of seeing if Celestia approved of her actions.

Celestia smacked her lips and waited for Twilight to continue, so she did. She tried another, more passionate kiss she had fantasized about, softly poking Celestia's lips with her tongue, asking for permission. When Celestia opened her mouth and allowed her entry, Twilight pressed forward with her entire body, moaning into the kiss. The moan turned into a yelp when Celestia rolled onto her back, using the momentum to pull Twilight on top her herself.

Neither of them broke the kiss, and before long Twilight felt, more than heard, Celestia moan softly. That small victory, knowing that what she was doing was really okay was enough to finally break the dam of her restraint.

She broke the kiss, leaving the princess panting. But rather than try to catch her breath she attacked Celestia with everything she had. Lips and hooves, magic and wings, she used them all to make her ment— her lover feel just that, loved.

She spent a long time going over every inch of alabaster coat she could reach. After that, she focused her attention on Celestia's wings, nipping and kissing each individual feather while her magic smoothed over all the spots where her loving nuzzling had mussed up Celestia's coat.

She crawled up until she was face to face with Celestia, planting a tiny kiss on the tip of her nose before moving a little higher still. She kissed each ear before nibbling on the right one, reveling in the coos and moans she managed to coax out of Celestia's mouth.

After a good hour of nuzzling and kissing Twilight finally relented. She quietly laughed to herself, feeling warm and tired. Her own wings were a mess and she was sure she was sweating all over, but she felt good. In fact, she felt great. Having done almost everything she had always dreamed of doing and having Celestia enjoy it felt better than her dreams ever had.

The rest would have to wait, though. She collapsed, completely out of breath. Her head landed on Celestia's chest and it took her a few moments before she could find the strength to lift her head to look at her lover's face.

Celestia was looking back with a dreamy smile, briefly leaning forward to plant a kiss on Twilight's forehead.

"Did I do..." Twilight trailed off, she didn't want to think that she'd done a bad job, not after how great it felt.

"You were wonderful, Twilight."

Twilight laughed again, both relieved and exhausted. She wasn’t going to get very far. Keeping her eyes open after the sudden flurry of activity was taxing enough, and her current position on Celestia’s chest was too comfortable to move from. She blinked a couple of times before dragging herself up a little bit with an immense amount of effort so that her her head was resting on Celestia’s neck. “Celestia?” she asked, suddenly feeling timid.

“Yes, my love?” the princess answered. The words pierced the veil of exhaustion for a brief moment and made Twilight’s heart beat loudly, overjoyed at finally hearing the words from Celestia herself.

“I just wanted to say—” She yawned and nuzzled into the alabaster coat she was resting on. “I love you.”

Celestia watched her young student battle and lose the fight with exhaustion. She watched Twilight close her eyes and let out a sleepy little mewl before using her wings to create a blanket for her very special somepony. “I love you too, Twilight Sparkle.”

Twilight barely registered the kiss on the top of her head before the combined exhaustion of the tour, fear, and elation finally exacted their toll. She fell asleep. Sheltered by a pair of white wings and dreamed of her future, together with the pony she loved.

Once she was sure Twilight was asleep, Celestia let herself yawn, giving into the exhaustion she had been fighting since the moment Twilight had woken her up in such a unique way. She closed her eyes and let a soft smile play around her lips as she marveled at the surprises Twilight managed to cook up every single day.

“I love you too.”