Fancy Pants cried out. He didn’t deserve to be here. He was a privileged trust fund kid who’d never worked a real day in his life, and he had the gall to be out here, with the buffalo? Was he that vain, that arrogant?

He should be ashamed of himself.

He should let go.

Saffron Masala was going to get Joe killed. She heard the grenades, the screaming. Could she pretend she didn’t know what she meant?

Of course Joe would do anything to protect her. She knew that. As long as she was doing this, he’d protect her.

She needed to stop. It was the only way she could keep them both safe.

If Dotted Line went through with this, how much blood would be on his hooves? How many would have dreams haunted for the rest of their lives by what they did today? What things would they forever see every time they closed their eyes? What could possibly be worth it?

He had to stop this.

It was impossible to make Photo Finish doubt herself. She had already proved she was willing to die for this, had already come so close. She held tenaciously to the cusp of life.

As Photo Finish’s voice snapped and crackled across the swirling doubts corrupting the dimming sun, blackening it, a thin tendril of stars reached out for it. That will was so far beyond what her feeble frame should have been capable of. That was her weak spot.

The mind of Photo Finish in the storm went silent, and cried its last.

Nightmare Moon lips twisted up at the corners of her mouth. She had to be so indirect before, but Twilight Sparkle had given her direct access to her subject’s hearts and minds.

She had been given an impossibly powerful new weapon.

Fancy Pants turned away. He was still connected to the heart, but it was hard now. He couldn’t look Chief Thunderhooves in the eye, staring at his hooves in shame.

The Chief slammed the ground with his hammer, hard enough to jostle Fancy Pants. That got his attention. “Tell me what is upsetting you.”

“It’s not my place to do this.” Fancy Pants tugged at his moustache. “I shouldn’t be here.”

Chief Thunderhooves nodded, sidled up beside Fancy Pants and looked out at the new sun and the dark spots roiling on its surface. “I see. You think, by doing this, you condescend to us?”

Fancy Pants winced, and Thunderhooves took off his helmet, stroked his chin. All around them was the crackle of flintlocks, the reply of thunder and lightning. Thunderhooves didn’t seem to pay that much mind, right now.

“Fancy Pants, my friend. The buffalo are helping themselves right now. It would be our honour if you would join us.”

Fancy Pants set his jaw, and turned back to the sun. He concentrated.

Dotted Line backed away. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t be responsible for this. He couldn’t-

Limestone slapped him, then picked up the next crate she’d come to pick up.

“Get your head in the game, Boss.” She growled. “Things are about to get hot.”

“We can stop this. We can de-escalate, we can negotiate, we can-” he stopped. Those ideas were already starting to sound strange and absurd to him. He’d only disconnected from the sun for a second, but…

Limestone snorted, picked up the next crate from outside Dotted’s bunker-office. “Nah, you couldn’t. If you told anyone to stop now, they wouldn’t listen to you. They’re not doing this for you, idiot.”

Dotted took a deep breath. Of course they weren’t. That was the secret to his leadership; He was only as important as other people let him be.

He reconnected to the sun.

Saffron didn’t need anyone telling her why Nightmare Moon should shut up.

She was not raising a child in a world without daycare centers.

The artists in the trenches of Manehattan couldn’t stop to mourn Photo Finish. They were fighting to keep her ideas alive.

Twilight let go of the sun with a gasp.

Nightmare Moon’s mind had been so cold, and overwhelming. It was so easy to be lost in the swell of voices - but it had only taken hers to force them to one side, suppress them, quiet them.

The sun flickered and guttered. Everyone had come too far to stop now, none of them believed this would come without a fight. Nightmare Moon couldn’t overpower every pony in Equestria, but she didn’t have to. She just had to fight them long enough to convince them that she could.

That meant she was distracted, focused entirely on the sun and all the voices in it. Twilight raced through the Everfree back to the castle.

Nightmare Moon hovered in front of the hole in the library, the stonework melted like candlewax. Her eyes were closed, her lip curled in a snarl. It was like she was purring with hate.

Twilight only had one shot at this.

All the love in Equestria was powering that thing. The difference she could add to that was a drop in an ocean.

What Twilight was, though, was in the right place at the right time. All the concentrated power of Equestria, freely given to her, to do with what she will.

Twilight reached around the sun - careful not touch the spell itself, where Nightmare Moon could have heard her do it - and grabbed it.

Then, as hard as she could, she hurled it at Nightmare Moon.

Nightmare Moon’s eyes opened only at the very last second. Too late.

Deep down, Twilight had hoped that Celestia had just been imprisoned, or captured, or escaped. She’d have hidden away until Nightmare Moon was defeated, then step out to congratulate Twilight on saving Equestria, and they’d all throw a parade and live happily ever after.

She knew that had always been unrealistic. It was a dumb hope, but… she was never going to get Celestia back.

Equestria had lost its immortal, benevolent ruler. It was going to have to figure out how to lead itself, now. What that would even mean.

It’s not that they’d never heard of democracy. Most towns had a mayor. It’s just… when you had Celestia, the point of national representation seemed kind of moot, didn’t it?

Even with Nightmare Moon gone, Celestia remained a past tense.

The real sun rose over Equestria again, raised by a team of forty unicorns led by Celestia’s protege Twilight Sparkle.

She took no pride in it, and resigned immediately after. Moondancer graciously accepted the honour.

There was more important work to be done, and not much time to do it in.

It was easy for Pinkie to find Twilight. She was in the library, like always. A plate of mostly-eaten salad was next to her, and an empty glass of water.

Pinkie hugged her from behind, and kissed her cheek. Twilight groaned.

“You’re not allowed to be antisocial anymore,” Pinkie chided, “You fixed Equestria. Everyone wants to be very nice to you. No excuses.”

“That’s the problem,” Twilight grimaced, not getting up from her reading desk, “if everyone’s being nice to me, I don’t get any work done.”

Pinkie blew in Twilight’s ear, which flicked rapidly in annoyance. “Oh no! Twilight! We can’t have you having too much fun!”

Twilight groaned again, with more enthusiasm. “Okay. What are we doing?”

“They’re talking about renovating the castle, now.” Pinkie dragged Twilight’s arm. “They’re arguing over what gets changed, and what gets preserved for history.”

“Preserved for history?”

“Yeah!” Pinkie laughed. “They’re going to build a museum and everything!”

Twilight pulled back. “About us?”

“About everything! So, now’s your last chance to tell everyone how not important you are and how embarrassing this is, since you didn’t really do anything. I thought you wouldn’t want to miss out.”

That got Twilight motivated. She redoubled her pace. “You just want to watch everyone tell me I’m wrong about that, don’t you?”

“Duh!”

They made off through the castle, warm and dappled in sunlight. They walked against a steady current of ponies carrying yellow folders and clicky pens.

Something else happened when the Crystal Heart came down on the Everfree. The chaos magic woven through the place got hit with the full blast of all the harmony magic Equestria could throw at it.

It was still a place where the weather controlled itself, the plants grew on their own. But the forest was bright, welcoming. Safe.

Deliberately Slow had a theory about that. Nightmare Moon had become a symbol of order, the resistance was chaos. It didn’t make sense, then, for the harmony magic to act as a force of order.

It had long been held that order was a force for good, and chaos was malicious.

Bullshit.

Twilight was ahead of Pinkie now, practically at a run. “What are they really talking about in there?”

“I told you.” Pinkie teased. “They’re really talking about how great and important and wonderful you are.”

“They are?”

“Well. I might have started the ball rolling,” Pinkie teased. “It was all true though.”

“Pinkie…”

They’d never used the throne room for much, anyway, while they were hiding in the Everfree. The throne had been tossed out, and where it had stood on the dias was Equestria’s new constitution - most of which Twilight had written, when nobody else volunteered.

They tried to crown her princess too, because she was Celestia’s protege and all, but Twilight had yelped like a kick puppy when it came up. There was nobody else everyone could agree on… Pinkie suspected that Twilight mostly wrote the constitution just so nobody tried to put a crown on her head again.

Even Princess Cadance was just Mi Amore Cadenza now. She didn’t seem that bothered by it, as long as Shining still called her “Princess” now and again. He didn’t seem bothered by that, either. Also, Twilight was probably going to be an aunt any day now, but that was neither here nor there.

Anyway, they’d put a bunch of fancy desks and chairs and stuff in the throne room, because it was big enough, and it was kind of Equestria’s government now. Canterlot Castle was still a bit of a sore point. Bad taste in everyone’s mouth.

When Twilight entered the room, everyone else stood up. She glared at them until they stopped showing undue respect to her again. They did so, out of respect, which just annoyed her more.

“Twily.” Shining Armor announced. The informality was enough that Pinkie felt Twilight relax. “I know you love museums.”

“Seeing them is one thing. Being one is another.” Twilight countered. “What were you thinking?”

“Honestly?” Shining shrugged. “It’d help draw normal people in. You remember what Canterlot was like, don’t you?”

Twilight hesitated. “Elitist. Snobby. Old money. Right?”

“Right.” Shining gestured around. “We were thinking, making half this place a museum means everyone can come here and feel like they’re meant to be here, ‘cause they are.”

Twilight thought about that. “Can we make the library a lending library? Open to the public?”

“You could.” Shining agreed. He stopped, looked around the room. Frowned. “Ah, sorry. All those opposed, say neigh?”

The room full of elected representatives from all across Equestria were silent.

“Okay, yeah, you could. Sorry, still getting used to that.” Shining rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “We were thinking some marble busts, a big one of Owlowiscious above the library doors. Botanical gardens from here to the Tree of Harmony, and some nice plaques. Maybe a memorial wall. We were also thinking of filling the cellars with soil, and keeping a collection of all the plants that can’t handle sunlight.”

Pinkie was cackling inside. Twilight couldn’t say no to any of that. Got her!

“That sounds… unobjectionable.” She conceded. “But I’m noticing you’re only mentioning the parts that don’t have anything to do with me.”

Pinkie went still. She forgot Twilight was smart, and noticed things. Drat.

Shining rubbed his neck. “Ah. Would the representative from Cloudsdale take this for me?”

Rainbow Dash had an eyepatch now, and a long scar from forehead to the corner of her lip on that side. She looked awesome. Equestria’s Messenger had won her home county with 79% of the vote. “Hey, yeah, so. We were also thinking, yours and Pinkie’s bedrooms, and the music room made sense.”

Twilight bristled. “No.”

Rainbow shrugged. “Hate to tell you this, Twilight, but you really did wear a groove between your bedroom and the library. I’d make other suggestions, but you really didn’t give us much to work with, here.”

“Absolutely not.” Twilight was caught in fight or flight - she couldn’t pick whether to be angry or terrified. Pinkie stayed close. “I don’t need to be remembered. Let me fade into obscurity, the sooner the better, please.”

“Twilight,” Rainbow deadpanned, “Hate to break it to you, but you beat Nightmare Moon by making your own sun and throwing it at her. That’s pretty unforgettable.”

“I had help!” Twilight protested. Pinkie snickered, and Twilight shot her a sidelong glare. “It’s your bedroom, too. You really want ponies in a hundred years to be trying to work out who you were by going through your diary? Reading your poems?”

Pinkie froze. “Oh, wow. This is a really bad idea.”

Rainbow shrugged. There was an absolutely wicked smirk on her face, now. “Hey. You can vote against it, since you’re here, but I’m pretty sure you’re going to get overruled here. I get that you don’t think you’re a big deal, but this isn’t really about calling you the hero of Equestria or anything.”

Twilight didn’t even dignify that with a reply. She just raised an eyebrow at Dash, at the rest of the room.

“Yeah. We all think it’s important that nobody ever forgets-” Rainbow Dash pauses, catches herself. She’d all been swagger and bravado here, but this one dug at a wound deeper than the missing eye. “I think it’s important that everyone remembers who the first to stand up was. Not how it ended, but how it started. They need to know it could have been anyone - and why it wasn’t.”

Twilight had stopped breathing for a bit. She shook her head, caught herself. “Yeah. Okay. Just… do me a favour, save the really real stuff for when I’m dead, or at least too old to care, alright?”

“I think we can all agree that’s fair.” Rainbow announced to the room. No objections.

Pinkie cleared her throat. “Ah, actually, now I’m kind of-”

Rainbow boomed, she’d had drill sergeant training and it showed. “All in favour of the plans as drafted, say aye!”

“Aye!”

“All opposed say neigh!”

“Neigh!” said Pinkie Pie, and nobody else.

“Motion passed. Next on the agenda… hey, who’s got the agenda?”

Twilight pulled Pinkie out of the room before she could tackle Rainbow Dash.

The dining room was a cafeteria now. The kitchen still ran full time, and it made ice cream. Home made! Castle made. Pinkie and Twilight had a cone each. It helped.

“This isn’t fair.” Pinkie sulked.

“Isn’t it?” Twilight asked in amusement. They played hoofsie under the table.

“I’m not like you,” Pinkie batted at Twilight’s hooves, and Twilight nudged back, “I actually didn’t do anything.”

“They were right.” Twilight sighed, looking up at the ceiling. They were surrounded by ponies that worked in the castle, now, and none of them paid them any mind. They really weren’t that special, here. “It’s about knowing who took a stand, remembering us as more than just… idealized, heroic figures.”

“Idealized sounds good. We should go with that.”

Twilight shook her head. “I don’t know. Dash said something about remembering how it began, not just how it ended. That means you. I wouldn’t have done it without you.”

“Don’t you mean couldn’t have?”

Twilight shook her head. “I could have. I just wouldn’t have believed it, so I wouldn’t have tried. Everybody but you told me I couldn’t.”

Pinkie pouted. “Being historically important sucks, huh?”

Twilight’s smile turned wistful. “Maybe that was how Celestia handled it. Just never letting herself become history.”

They tried to finish their ice cream before it melted.

Applejack caught up to them both in the hall as they were walking back to the library. There was a knowing smirk, there. “Knew I’d find you here.”

“I’m a bookworm. Rub it in.” Twilight blew her fringe away from her eyes.

“Well, that’s just it, actually,” Applejack handed Twilight a letter. “Managed to get my grubby little hooves on an important document from a lifetime ago.”

Twilight looked at it. “I was going to be librarian of Ponyville. What about it?”

“Never got rescinded, officially.” Applejack snorted. She took the parchment back, rolled it up, and tucked it under her hat. “The job’s still yours, if you like.”

Twilight blinked. “What, really?”

“Yep.”

“You’d just let me retire, be a normal librarian. Not let anyone bother me.”

“Well, hey now,” Applejack scolded, “Part of the whole job would be letting people bother you. You’re their librarian. People need to bother you to ask what books you think they’d like.”

The implication hung in the air. It wasn’t just a job: It was a place in a community that wanted her. Twilight straightened up. “You mean it?”

“Twilight, it’s a library job,” Applejack knocked her hat back, somehow without losing anything she was keeping under it. “I ain’t trying to crown you princess or nothing.”

They both had a giggle about that.

“I’ve kind of been afraid to ask,” Pinkie rubbed the back of her neck. “Are the Cakes okay? I never found out.”

“The Cakes made it through just fine,” Applejack reassured her. “Heard they miss you a ton, too. You didn’t ask? It’s been weeks.”

Pinkie couldn’t say it out loud. Twilight did it for her. “She’s been scared they were punished for knowing her. Like Fluttershy could have been.”

Fluttershy was the gentle explanation, because she was one of the ones that made it out okay. But they’d come after Twilight’s parents. They’d come after a lot of folk.

Nobody would ever really know just how much was lost.

“Sugarcube Corner’s waiting for you. Ponyville’s got a lot of parties that need planning, and I can’t think of anyone better.” Applejack reassured her. “They’re safe. You were careful enough.”

Twilight held Pinkie up. She hadn’t even felt her knees wobble, and Twilight was already moving to catch her.

“I think we’d both like that,” Twilight answered for them both.

Pinkie didn’t have much left to take that wasn’t being made into museum. All their luggage was Twilight’s two cartloads of books, which they had to cart through the Everfree path. They’d kept the name, too. Everfree. The Everfree Castle. It was a good name for it.

Then, they were out the other side. They were in Ponyville again, in the bright morning sun. It was almost the same as when Pinkie had left it, and she wasn’t.

That was scary.

They arrived at what Twilight insisted on calling a branch library. She smiled every time she said it. She had changed, too.

She took the key out, put it in the door, unlocked it. She wasn’t ready to open the door yet. “Are you going to move back in with the Cakes, then?” Twilight asked.

Pinkie blinked. “I don’t think they’d have room for you, though.”

“I know.”

“Twilight, we’re married.” Pinkie snorted. “I want to live together.”

“I just mean, you don’t have to any more. You can-”

Pinkie kissed her stupid wife so she’d stop being dumb. “I only ever did what I wanted to. I’m going to keep reminding you until you stop forgetting.”

Twilight was flushed up to her ears as she finally opened the door. “It’s just good to be reminded sometimes. You have something to go back to, now.”

“Oh right. That reminds me, I was forgetting something!”

“Yeah?” Twilight asked absently. She was already shelving a big pile of the books she’d brought with her, making herself at home. “What?”

“I still want to be a mom!”

Twilight flinched, dropped the books. Thump. “Wow. I mean, I didn’t forget, I just wasn’t ready for that to come back around this exact second.”

“You don’t?”

“I just don’t think I’d be good at it,” Twilight admitted. She was quiet though. Pinkie started helping her shelve to let her think, and also just to see what Twilight had actually brought with her.

Most of them were poetry books, Pinkie noticed. All the ones she recognized were ones she liked.

Twilight put the last book in its correct place. “This library has a lot of windows. It lets a lot of sunlight in.” Twilight looked out one of them, now. “I really like it. I think-” She stopped. That moment between what she was thinking, and having to say it.

Pinkie kissed her cheek.

“I think this feels like it could be home for me. A real home.” Twilight announced. Was it just her imagination, or did the tree shiver happily when she said it?

“A place to put down roots, you mean?”

“I love you so much.” Twilight tried to hide her mouth with a hoof, but it didn’t hide the smile reaching her eyes. “I do.”

Pinkie’s heart start beating faster. She whispered at it to settle down until she knew for sure. “You mean…?”

Twilight wiped her eyes, sniffled. Her voice was catching in her throat, but she was glowing. “You told me a long time ago. That I only got to save the world if I got to have a happy ending, too. Well, we saved the world, didn’t we?” Twilight wiped her eyes. “I earned my happy ending, didn’t I? I- hang on. We need to go outside a moment, okay?”

Pinkie was out the door that second. Twilight stepped outside, looked her up and down, closed the door behind her.

With a gasp and a giggle, Pinkie was scooped up - not with her magic! In a proper bridal carry!

“We are married!” Twilight declared, loud enough for all of Ponyville heard her.

“Yeah!”

“We have a perfect home!”

“We do!”

“And!” Twilight kicked the door open. Kicked it! Actual property damage! Pinkie loved her so much. She kicked it closed behind her. This just to Pinkie and no one else, she said: “We are going to be amazing parents.”

They kissed. Twilight kept carrying Pinkie towards the bedroom, which was up a flight of stairs, which was really impressive and actually kind of great. This was just showing off - Twilight had been taking care of herself.

It was a beautiful day.