Princess Celestia, Ruler of Equestria, Monarch of the Sun, the immortal alicorn who ushered in a golden age for all of Equestria and its allies, and holder of far too many titles and honors which still failed to adequately describe the dedication, honor and fairness with which she ruled and guided her little ponies, sighed heavily.

Trotting through the Canterlot Royal Gardens, taking in the atmosphere of the immaculately trimmed hedges, the patches of rare and beautiful flowers, and wonderful creatures, who shyly poked their little heads out of the trees to observe their visitor, Celestia had known full well that it wouldn’t take away the pain. She had known that nothing would distract her from the constant reminder that hung over her head, literally, every night; a reminder of the mistakes she had made nearly one thousand years ago and the consequences that she endured in their wake.

But she had dared to hope that it might dull some of that pain; that something might serve to soothe her aching heart.

“Luna,” she whispered as a tear ran down her white-coated cheek. Her hopes had been in vain, just as they had been every night since she had been forced to do the one thing that she regretted, the one thing that she loathed herself for, the one thing that broke her heart more than anything in a millennium sitting on the throne, the singular ruler of Equestria.

Singular. Single. Solo. Undisputed. Each word and many others had been used to describe her reign, but none better than the one she had chosen:

Alone.

Hard to believe that a mare such as Princess Celestia could ever think herself alone, right? With so many ardent supporters, both domestic and abroad, with the unanimous love of her little ponies, one might think that, whenever Princess Celestia cantered, she was hardly alone.

But wasn’t she? After all, nothing can compare to the bonds of one’s own family. Without her sister, Celestia was without that constant companionship that she had cherished for so long. Lords, Ladies, farmers, ponies from all walks of life journeyed to stand before her… But none were the same as Luna.

Without Luna… was there even a point to Celestia? What was the radiance of the Sun without the splendor of the Moon? What was the bright joy of day without the sweet caress of night?

What was Celestia without Luna?

She came to a stop in front of the small pond, just as she always did, and fell back on her haunches, letting her wings droop slightly as the full weight of her crown seemed to drive her into the ground.

Alone. No matter how hard she tried to fight the feeling, no matter how much the legion of advisors and dignitaries assured her that the exact opposite was true, no matter how many smiling faces she looked out upon with every day she raised her Sun over the land, Princess Celestia felt alone.

For a time after banishing her sister, the Solar Princess had seemingly distanced herself from relationships; she still loved her ponies, but, as stated, their lives were simply far too short. Without somepony at her side to stay with her and comfort her, Celestia had seen no point in taking a lover.

What was the point of having a special somepony when she knew that she would end up burying that pony and walking on without them, unchanging with each passing day, grieving the memory of yet another dear to her lost? It was a thought that she simply couldn’t bear. A thought that created a rather paradoxical problem for her:

Without a special somepony, without a husband, she could never have foals of her own. Again, she truly dreaded the thought of having to bury one of her own offspring, but in private, within her own thoughts, Princess Celestia was jealous of her ponies.

They could hold their loved ones in their hooves for their entire lives, they could live, love and die with the pony they loved, they could watch their foals grow up into wonderful mares and stallions alike, but she couldn’t. Ponies could love and adore her for their entire lives.

But she would never be able to hold onto them for her entire life. She wanted so much to have somepony to hold, a foal of her own to raise and love, and yet she was afraid.

In their younger days, Luna referred to it as “The Alicorn Paradox.” The Lunar and Solar Princesses had a great capacity for love, but they were so afraid to let their ponies get too close lest they be hurt when that pony’s time finally came. They wanted foals of their own more than anything in the world, but they were terrified by the mere thought that someday, inevitably, they would be forced to preside over their funerals.

For centuries, the sisters leaned on one another, each a constant source of love and support as they battled their own inner demons. But, without Luna, without her family, without somepony close to her for a millennium, Princess Celestia felt empty.

She wanted her sister. She wanted a family. She wanted… to be whole again.

Inhaling shakily, Princess Celestia spoke in a barely audible whisper. “I don’t want to be alone.” Her Royal Guards, always lingering out of sight, just out of earshot, didn’t hear her sniffles, nor could they see the tears dripping down her muzzle and onto the grass. “I don’t want to be alone anymore!”

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves and reign in her emotions. It will all be okay, she assured herself. It will pass.

After all, she did still have the testing for prospective students to her school for gifted unicorns coming up for the month or so. Yes. That was always quite lovely to see. Hundreds of happy foals, each eager to prove that they were ready to take a more advanced path in learning magic.

Perhaps she would find another foal with the skill to become her personal student. While it was true, Sunset Shimmer’s fall from grace had been painful – quite possibly the most painful thing since being forced to banish Luna – it was almost like she had a foal of her own.

Yes. She dared to imagine, she dared to treasure that time she spent with the young filly, holding it in the same light that a mother would spending time with her foal.

Celestia still held cherished those moments, just as she cherished those she spent with her sister, despite all that had happened since then. They were precious, too precious to let go…

Maybe the fates would smile upon her again and reward her patience with another student, another bright eyed young foal with a mind eager to learn and practice magic. And maybe, at long last, she would feel whole once more.

“Please,” she whispered, closing her eyes and focusing with all her heart, wishing just as she used to when she was a filly. “Please.”

Lightning arced down from the sky, hitting the ground just a short distance away from the grieving princess, followed shortly by a booming crack of thunder. Blinking rapidly to rid her vision of those pesky light spots, the ageless princess beheld a figure, sitting exactly where the bolt had touched down.

Startled, Princess Celestia leapt to her hooves, wings fanned out and head lowered into a more readied stance; whatever had invaded the Royal Gardens on this night would find that the Princess of the Sun was just as formidable as told in the stories of old.

She was met with a sight that nearly melted her ancient heart.

A foal, a tiny little foal with a chestnut coat, a long, scruffy black tail and mane, with a tiny horn poking out at the center of its head. Its fetlocks were wrapped around its hind legs, its muzzle buried in its knees as it cried and shivered, mumbling something in between sobs.

Princess Celestia lowered her wings, leaning forward and straining her ears to listen.

“Please help me,” it whimpered in the voice of a frightened colt. “Please help me!”

Several millennia worth of instincts acquired from reigning over and loving her subjects kicked in, this little foal wasn’t a threat. It was nothing more than a young foal crying for help, a young foal who was lost and alone.

Just as she was.

The Solar Princess stepped forward; the soft thuds of her hooves on the ground alerted the little foal to her presence, causing him to look up, revealing a pair of emerald eyes hidden behind black-rimmed glasses gazing up fearfully at her. He froze, seemingly terrified and confused, unsure of what to do until he realized that her focus was entirely directed upon him. Once that realization set in, along with the fact that her towering figure was approaching him, the colt finally moved.

He gave a startled squeak and unclasped his fetlocks, pushing himself back and away from the approaching princess, backing up against the trunk of an old, strong oak tree.

Noting his fear, Celestia ceased her approach and tried a different route. Fixing a kind smile on her face and assuming her most soothing, motherly voice, she leaned forward and lowered her head to look him in the eyes and speak to him on his level. “Don’t be afraid, little one,” she cooed softly.

In all her years, in her wildest dreams, Celestia never would’ve anticipated the response her attempts to sooth the colt’s nerves garnered. Who could blame her, though? For who could possibly anticipate those emerald eyes, widen in horror, a feat that would’ve amazed the Solar Princess in any other circumstances, and increased efforts to seemingly meld into the tree trunk and escape the much larger pony. Suddenly, the colt’s gaze shifted downward, staring at his own legs in shock and horror.

Celestia didn’t understand this; she didn’t quite understand why he was now holding his hooves up, jaw working uselessly as he seemed unable to comprehend his own appearance. He went into a full-blown panic! Frantically checking himself over, crying out in growing horror at the sight of his barrel, his hindlegs, his tail! His hooves shot to his head and felt around his elongated equine head, his jaw seemed to drop lower and lower with each detail he took in, finally hitting the ground when his hooves brushed against his horn.

Meanwhile, Celestia’s eyes widened in horror and fury at something entirely different, a feature that definitely didn’t belong on the body of a foal.

Black and blue, ugly blemishes, of varying shapes and sizes along his forelegs, the edges of additional bruising peeking out from beneath his oversized shirt.

Injuries. Pain. A foal in need of help.

“Guards!” The Princess called sharply, a summons that was answered almost instantaneously, a credit to the unparalleled discipline of the Royal Guard.

“Yes, my Princess!” Two stallions, a unicorn and an earth pony, both with traditional illusions in place, making their coats white and manes royal blue, answered, bending at the knee in reverence of their ruler.

“Alert the Royal Family Physician. This colt has injuries that must be attended to immediately.”

“At once, Princess!” Without question, without a backwards glance, the guards galloped off at a brisk pace to see her orders met. Despite the situation, Celestia couldn’t help but smile inwardly at their dedication.

Hmm, Shining Armor and Steel Hoof, I believe. She thought idly. Both new recruits, fresh out of the Academy. If I recall, Private Armor has a younger sister enrolling in my school. I wonder… One thing at a time, old girl.

Returning to current matters, Celestia noticed that the colt trying to stand, but falling flat on his face each time, growing more and more upset each time he tried He whimpered incomprehensibly, repeatedly switching his frightened gaze from his own hooves to herself. Finally giving up on standing, he seemed resolved to try and simply edge himself out of sight, pushing himself along the ground with his hindlegs and dragging himself forward with his forelegs. Oh, dear.

Unused to being regarded with such fear, she frowned. She was just trying to help; typically, speaking soothingly and lowering her wings, clear signs that she wasn’t threatening, worked. Instead, this little one was still looking at her as if she were Tirek incarnate.

Well, that just wouldn’t do.

Celestia sighed and began channeling magic, her horn light up gold. It might startle him a bit, but she had to prove that she meant him no harm. In her experience, there was really only one thing left to do…

The colt yelped and struggled as his body was enveloped in a golden light and gently lifted into the air, his struggles grew more frantic as he was drawn towards the Princess of the Day.

“Nonononononononono!” Celestia winced at his panicked whimpers. By her mother’s wings, what did this fear stem from?

She drew him in close, wrapping her hooves around his small body in a warm, gentle hug. Her wings encircled his small body, tickling him with her soft, downy feathers. He tensed up, clearly expecting some sort of attack.

Celestia made note to find the root of this fear and his injuries so that she might have… words with those responsible.

The colt, still regarding her with apprehension, recoiled as she leaned towards him to nuzzle his cheek tenderly. “Don’t be afraid, little one.” She whispered gently. “I don’t want to hurt you, I want to help.”

Even as a young filly, hugs always seemed to help.

He was still so tense, still leaning away from her, not fully accepting her embrace, but one thing had changed: he wasn’t fighting. He wasn’t whimpering in terror or flailing his limbs. He was frightened, but he was listening. He understood her.

Celestia pulled back to meet his gaze, fixing him with a look of obvious concern. “You are hurt,” she began. “You are lost and you are afraid, aren’t you?”

It was a seemingly simple question with an equally simple answer, but there was an underlying motive: Celestia hoped that she could get him to admit his need for help, rather than hide from her and in fear that she might use it against him.

She was trying to show him that she was the big pony that he could come to when he couldn’t find his parents. She was the big pony that he could trust.

Looking up at her shyly with those big green eyes, rimmed by those black-framed glasses, the colt hesitated, considering his options. To Celestia’s immense relief, he nodded once.

It was a simple answer to a simple question, but it was a start.

Engulfing the little one in her magic again, she placed him on her back, legs straddling her spine and using her magic to gently nudge his hooves into place around her neck to steady himself. “Hold on tight,” she advised. “I don’t think a fall on top of your other injuries is something either of us want, little one.”

He didn’t reply verbally, but Celestia felt him tighten his grip, heeding her word. Good. They were connecting.

If not for quiet of night, save for the soft thuds of her hooves on the soft ground, if not for the Solar Princess’ ears being bent towards the youngling, listening intently in case he slipped or his wounds were aggravated by her cantering, she would have missed the near whisper that came from his mouth.

“Harry.”

Celestia stopped abruptly, turning her head to regard the little one with a curious eye. What was he trying to say? Hairy what?

“My name,” he mumbled shyly, eyes fixed on her ethereal, flowing mane, avoiding her gaze. “My name is Harry Potter.”

---    

To his credit, Doctor Tender Care didn’t balk or stutter that this colt was not a member of the Royal Famiy, and, therefore, shouldn’t be his problem, as his predecessor might have done. He simply nodded and took a look at his patient. He could clearly see the injuries that his Princess was referring to, the bruises on his forelegs and a rather nasty scar on his forehead – which had only peaked out when little Harry had flinched away, causing his mane to shift just enough to reveal the old, lightning bolt shaped wound.

The scar was an old injury, so that wasn’t pressing at the moment. The bruises and cuts, on the other hand…

Based on body of the colt and the fact that its legs were firmly locked around Princess Celestia’s neck, seemingly trying to press itself into her coat so that it wouldn’t be noticed, he was utterly terrified. Which matched the Guards’ account of the events in the Royal Gardens; a foal, which had come from nowhere, descending in a bolt of lightning, and shrunk from the Princess’ initial attempts to sooth him.

Princess Celestia’s current expression as she gazed upon her passenger, that familiar expression of love and concern that he’d seen so often during his tenure told Tender Care all he needed to know.

Right now, she wanted an immediate assessment of his injuries. Based on their extent, they could decide what course of action to take.

Doctor Tender Care simply shrugged and stepped around the Solar Princess so that he was face-to-face with the colt, who shrunk away as soon as he realized that he wasn’t quite as hidden as he thought.

If not for the bruises, the good Doctor might have thought this one of the most adorable sights ever; hay, it was almost like a foal hiding behind its mother’s leg.

When he asked for the colt’s name, he shyly glanced around the Princess, but remained silent. The ageless mare laughed lightly and lifted the little one into the air in her magic field again, placing him on the examination bed and sidling up next to him when he began to panic at the loss of contact. She nuzzled his messy mane and spoke in his stead. “Harry Potter,” she said softly. “His name is Harry Potter.”

Ah.

The good doctor gave his friendliest smile and stepped forward, inwardly noting how Harry tried to push himself back, as if he were hoping to either blend in with the Princess’ immaculate white coat or somehow meld into her body to escape the approaching stranger.

He’d be discussing that little detail with his Princess at a later time. Right now, there was a young colt with a problem. “Harry,” he spoke softly as he continued forward, though at a slower pace in hopes that it might help young Harry if he had the chance to see that his intentions weren’t harmful. “My name is Tender Care, I’m one of the Royal Physicians – a doctor. The guards told me that you were hurt when Princess Celestia found you, is that right?”

The reaction that followed was, quite possibly, a mix of the most adorable and striking sights he’d ever seen: Harry didn’t directly answer him at first, instead, he chose to look to the Princess for reassurance, silently asking her if it were okay to converse with him.

As if he were asking his own mother if it were safe to talk to somepony she let in the house.

Princess Celestia simply laughed and nodded, pausing to nuzzle his head again and whisper some comforting words to the frightened young colt. After a rather awkward moment, Harry answered his question with a silent nod, still not fully giving his trust.

Fair enough, Tender Care hadn’t exactly made it through Canterlot University’s Medical Program by sitting on his plot and hoping for miracles. With Harry’s trust issues in mind, it would probably be a good idea to explain to him what was about to happen before casting a spell. For all he knew, the sight of his horn glowing might spook the poor colt.

And judging by how skittish he already was…

Well, the last thing they needed was a game of hide and seek with a lost, frightened foal.

“Harry, I need to cast a spell so I can see what’s hurting you,” he began, taking extra care that he used simple words, just as he might explain this spell to a classroom of foals. “My horn will light up and you’ll feel a bit of a tingle, but that’s just the magic touching you and searching for what’s wrong. Is that alright with you?”

It would be a bold-faced lie for Tender Care to claim that he didn’t feel a sense of relief when his patient nodded, albeit very shyly and hesitantly. With tentative permission granted, Doctor Care’s horn lit with a forest green glow, the same as the aura that surrounded his young charge.

This spell, the Injury Callback Spell, was specifically designed for the medical field: the spell served to pick up on broken bones; torn, damaged or poorly functioning organs; broken bones; and even scarred tissue.

It was invasive, certainly, but in this situation, when a foal had visible injuries from an unknown source, it was best to be safe through than sorry.

As the information was relayed, Tender Care was relieved to find that Harry’s organs were functioning well. That was a relief. The good doctor nodded, quite happy that his spell didn’t show anything that required immediate surgery, no signs of damaged or malfunctioning organs.

Fortunately, the scan was going relatively well. Harry didn’t seem to have any scar tissue or broken bones, though that didn’t do much to ease his feelings on the surface bruises and signs of malnourishment exhibited in the foal.

The bruises along his fetlocks all had a rather similar pattern and were roughly the same size, suggesting that repeated impacts of similar force had played a part in these injuries. Somepony had regularly struck Harry, resulting in multiple bruises.

It took just about every ounce of professionalism for the good Doctor not to let his temper loose and begin demanding to know what heartless monster would do such a thing to a colt as young and innocent as his patient.

Only a sharp exhale through his snout, drawing a raised brow from his Princess, gave any indication that Tender Care was quite irritated.

Foal abuse was considered utterly barbaric by Equestrian standards.

Tender Care fixed his Princess with a look, one that she had grown familiar with from his examinations of her family over the years; it was one that she immediately associated with news of an unpleasant nature.

Spectacular.

Just as a look was all that was needed to tell Princess Celestia that his diagnosis would be unpleasant, a simple nod and glance were enough to tell him that it could wait until after she took care of her charge.

Given that he was quite far from home and alone, Harry really didn’t need to hear two ponies discussing the specifics of his injuries. With all the stress and anxiety he’d endured since his arrival, he could do without that.

For now, he needed to know that, despite the unfamiliarity of his surroundings and situation, he wasn’t going through it alone.

Celestia giggled at the surprised squeak that Harry let out when he was, once again, lifted into the air and onto her back by her magical field, feeling him wrap his hooves around her neck to steady himself just as he’d done earlier. She stood, trotting lightly toward the door. “Walk with us,” she ordered. Tender Care fell into step almost immediately, rather interested to see where exactly his ruler was taking his patient and, well, still waiting to verbally give the summary of his diagnosis.

That being said…

“Ah, Your Majesty? Where–“

“Am I taking him?” Celestia supplied, a teasing smirk playing about her lips. “Well, little Harry has certainly been through, I think he deserves a break from all this seriousness and negativity, wouldn’t you agree?”

Well aware of Her Majesty’s penchant for mischief and games, Tender Care barely restrained a whinny of protest and nodded. He knew exactly how this would play out: she would do something completely off the wall and somehow, somehow, manage to make everything go exactly how she wanted it.

That being said, he still had to ask. “What exactly did you have in mind, Your Majesty?”

His only answer was the widening of her smirk into a full-blown grin.

---  

Tender Care’s eye twitched as he took in the utter absurdity of the sight before him.

Just as he thought, the grin his Princess had sported hinted at the sheer silliness of her plan, her method of easing Harry’s mind and, well, taking care of something that he really should’ve considered.

Fine! So she had one over him tonight! That still didn’t mean this was any less ridiculous!

To be fair, he probably should have seen this coming, given the Princess’ penchant for snacks. And, well, it did, in a way, serve the purpose of giving Harry something a bit more positive to focus on.

Still. Did she really have to send for Pony Joe to bring a selection to the Royal Palace?

The middle-aged stallion had been a friend of the Royal Family since the day he first opened his business, just within trotting distance. Their relationship had started when the Princess had, in a rare instance in which her patience had run out, teleported just outside of his diner and stormed in, plopping herself down rather ungraciously in one of the counter top chairs and telling him “I hope you had your coffee this morning, my little pony, because I’m going to be here a while.”

Sometime around three in the morning, Joe, in a rare moment of stupidity brought on by exhaustion, finally snapped and informed his Princess that she needed to leave so he could close shop or she could “figure out how to work the fryer and make whatever horseapples” for herself.

It took all of two seconds for that haze of exhaustion to lift and for Joe to have the sudden realization that – yes – he had in fact just told the Princess of the Sun to go take a long trot off a short pier and that it just might possibly, maybe, probably, definitely be openly disrespectful to the most powerful magic user on the planet.

Bar. None.

Pony Joe’s panicked, racing thoughts had been cut off by a snort from the typically straight faced Celestia, just before she completely broke down and laughed her flank off in the middle of his diner. It had been his bluntness, his momentary lapse in which he’d forgotten who she was and just treated her like an ordinary pony, for just an instant, which led to Pony Joe’s Doughnut Shop becoming a regular hangout for Her Majesty.

Which brings us back to the present. Pony Joe raised his brow at the sight of the little foal. There hadn’t been any foals born in the Royal Family in several years, this one was certainly too young. That, in combination with the sight of the bruises on the colt’s fetlocks made for an even more confused doughnut shop owner. However, he did exchange glances with both Princess Celestia and Doctor Tender Care, silently demanding an explanation as soon as possible.

But there was one thing about the young newcomer that nopony present could maintain a straight face at: not the Princess, nor Tender Care, not even the young Royal Guard recruits could resist at least a snicker at Harry’s initial reaction to seeing the admittedly impressive spread that the baker had brought with him and subsequently hearing Princess Celestia’s gentle command that he eat.

If not for their sharp hearing, they likely would’ve missed his mumbled reply. “C-Can I really eat?” Naturally, this question was met with rather perturbed grimaces from the guards and doctor, something else that Pony Joe would have to ask about. Celestia, however, seemed to hide her sentiments on that question a bit better, instead lowering him to the floor, quickly catching him with a hoof when he stumbled, and nodding to him.

The follow up “But there’s no way I can eat all that” nearly reduced Private Shining Armor and Private Steel Hoof to a pair of giggling foals before they realized that they’d just broken protocol and hastily fixed the traditional stone-faced expression of the Royal Guards on their faces.

The Princess’ sly grin at their antics hinted that those poor recruits would endure plenty of teasing for that little misstep.

Upon returning her gaze to her young charge, Princess Celestia was forced to bite the inside of her cheek so she wouldn’t let out a rather embarrassing “D’aww” at his reaction to the selection laid before him. Harry, meanwhile, was completely awestruck, looking as though he’d never seen so many doughnut varieties in his young life. To him, the plethora of colors, different icings, and sprinkles, even ones that were filled with jams, were, for the most part, completely alien to him.

Leaning closer to the gaping colt’s ear, she gave him a bit of whispered advice. “My favorites are the ones with white frosting and sprinkles,” she inwardly giggled at the way his head whipped around to stare at her, as if he wondered if he’d heard correctly that the ginormous magical pony princess liked doughnuts with sprinkles.

His reaction was, essentially, the exact one she would’ve expected from any of her subjects who might discover her penchant for sneaking out of her lavish Palace for a late night snack, never mind that it was a “commoner’s venue.”

Naturally, as she had become his de facto guardian, he took her word and tentatively reached for the recommended treat with a hoof rather than use telekinesis. Celestia shrugged it off as a possible lack of experience in magic, which could be remedied with practice.

However, that didn’t explain why he was unable to pick up his selection with his hoof. Harry brought the aforementioned limb back to give it a rather perturbed look before trying again and getting the same results. He growled irritably and tried using both hooves in a pincer like fashion, trying to squeeze the doughnut between his hooves enough so that he could pick it up, but light enough so he wouldn’t smash it together. He let out a small “Ha!” when he was finally able to pick it up, sitting back on his haunches and claiming victory over his sugary nemesis, much to the amusement of everypony present.

Harry brought the doughnut closer to his muzzle, pausing to examine it curiously. For a moment, it seemed as though he might reject the offered food, which would put Celestia in a rather tough spot:

A rejection was contrary to her goal of trying to make him more comfortable, showing him through action that he could trust her enough to give a peace offering of food, so that she might be able to convince him to sleep off his stress.

Poor foal looked like he could use a good nap after all that he’d gone through during his brief stay in the Palace

She was brought out of what can only be described as ‘maternal strategizing’ as Harry, seemingly satisfied by his examination, brought the doughnut to his mouth and took a small, hesitant bite…

His eyes suddenly lit up and he would proceed to – as Celestia would later swear – nearly inhale his food. As soon as he’d polished off the last of his snack, Harry once again directed his emerald eyes on her, trying some form of silent communication.

Approval? Permission for seconds? Wondering why she wasn’t eating with him? Again, Celestia wasn’t a mind reader – well, not without use of one of a variety of rather invasive spells, which she felt decidedly uncomfortable using on a foal without consent – she could only speculate until he gave some sort of –

Before she could finish the thought, Harry had taken a second doughnut, the same icing and sprinkled kind as the first, and held it out to her.

Ah. Well, that answers that question.

Rather than simply take it and indulge him, Celestia made a show of pretending to look around, eyes darting left and right. “Oh, I’m afraid I can’t dear,” she said with faux sadness, which was received with a look of confusion from her young charge, who glanced at the doughnut in his hooves as if wondering if he’d grabbed the wrong one. Years of practice prevented her from losing her poker face as she kept the act up. “If I eat too many doughnuts, I get in trouble with the Royal Cook. He says if I eat too many, they’ll all go right to my flanks!”

After a moment’s pause, Celestia quickly looked over her shoulder before making a show of leaning down to stage whisper to Harry. “But what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him!” she declared, taking the offered snack in her telekinesis and munching on it happily.

The sensation of cloth brushing against her fetlocks drew her attention downward again, where she noticed that Harry had resumed his previous location at her side, laying down on his stomach and snuggling against her fetlock and closing his eyes with a contented sigh, finally comfortable, finally letting his guard down.

Celestia smiled and knelt down beside him, causing him to open his eyes and look up in confusion as she disturbed his rather comfortable position. She responded by wrapping her fetlock around him and pulling him against her side in a hug, going a bit further by wrapping her wing around him in a gesture that spoke of love and protection.

Harry seemed to accept this, closing his eyes again and breathing easy as he drifted off to sleep in her warm embrace, knowing that he was safe at her side.

His steady breathing and nuzzling against her came as a relief, easing at least some of the tension that had formed in Celestia’s chest throughout the course of his arrival. From the signs of injury to his inexplicable panic over his own body, to how he shied from contact to his apparent need for permission to even consider eating in front of other ponies, Harry had been a source of great stress for the Princess of the Day, albeit unintentionally.

Letting out a deep sigh, her attention turned to the two stallions; Tender Care, still waiting to give his diagnosis, and Pony Joe, who was looking quite perturbed at being kept out of the loop.

Funny, she noted with an internal chuckle, how a friendship with a doughnut shop owner seemed to grant that pony some privileges that most would give their tails for.

A nod was all that Tender Care needed. He stepped forward, pausing only to roll his eyes and beckon the Royal Guards and Princess’ guest closer so that his patient might continue sleeping. In hushed tones, he gave a very short account. “His internals are, mercifully, in healthy condition, my Princess. However, there are some signs of malnutrition – not so much that he is in immediate danger, but enough for me to advise that he be placed on a strict diet so that his body receives the nutrients and vitamins needed to heal the damage.”

The sight of the ever-serene Princess of the Day closing her eyes and drawing in a deep breath, before exhaling sharply made her trusted physician nervous. Princess Celestia wasn’t pleased.

It had been years since the last time Tender Care had seen the typically calm and collected ruler of Equestria drop her façade, and it had been quite the sight to behold.

If memory served, that griffon ambassador vacated the Palace so quickly, he would’ve sworn some form of magic had been involved had he not seen the ambassador blur past him with an expression of sheer terror on his face.

This next part would, no doubt, put his Princess in a similar state of mind. Though her anger just might be quelled only due to the presence of the slumbering colt, clutched tightly in her embrace.

“As for the bruising on his fetlocks,” there was no way to sugar coat this part. Steeling his nerves, Tender Care proceeded. “The sizes vary slightly, but they suggest repeated strikes with blunt objects, whether they be weapons or hooves, we would have to ask him. At this point, the only assumption that I can make is that he was the victim of some form of bullying, attack or abuse.”

A sharp intake of breath, along with her unoccupied hoof grinding heavily against the tile floor told all that needed to be said about Celestia’s sentiments on the matter. Tender Care noticed her immaculate white wing squeeze tighter around the young colt’s sleeping form – a sign of the pegasus heritage in the ancient alicorn.

Under her wing, under her protection. Agitating a pegasus when they were in this state was ill advised.

Of course, that didn’t stop one of their party, who was still quite out of the loop, from speaking up. “I’m sorry for speaking out of turn, Princess,” Joe began. “But for those of us who weren’t here when Harry showed up, would somepony mind filling in some blanks? What exactly is going on?”

Celestia, eyes still shut as she reassumed her usual Zen-like aura, answered softly. “I’m not entirely sure of the specifics, Joe.” She admitted. “Harry appeared next to me, literally out of nowhere, in a bolt of lightning and was in a state of duress from the moment he arrived. He was utterly terrified of me, of his own body, of his surroundings, everything. And with his injuries…” She trailed off, uneasy to continue along that train of thought. That a pony, a foal, had to endure such pain and duress was greatly troubling.

That Harry had endured such pain and now, after finally succumbing to sleep, was alone in the world. Alone…

Just like she was.

“Not anymore.” She whispered, looking down at the sleeping colt fondly. “Neither of us are alone anymore.”

“E-Excuse me, Princess?”

Celestia turned her gaze to the surrounding ponies and made a choice; one that would forever change Equestria. “I’ll look after him.”

“But Princess –“

“No,” she cut in. “No orphanages, no foster parents, he was utterly terrified when he arrived, he only just started to trust me. I will take care of him. From this day forth, he is my son, my little colt.”

Celestia returned her attention to the foal in question and smiled, feeling whole again for the first time in centuries. “My little Morningstar.”

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