Everything felt stiff.

That was the first thing that Sunset became aware of as she fought her way back to consciousness. She was stiff all over, like she’d done a full workout without cooling down, leaving her muscles with a faint ache and her joints slow to respond.

The second thing she noticed was that she was tangled up in a mess of blankets in the dark. The former unicorn fought to free herself from the slightly stuffy cocoon, and eventually sat up to do so…

Only for her forehead to come into painful contact with something above her that was only barely softened by the blankets. Sunset swore vociferously, tears burning at the corner of her eyes from the pain. “Hydra licking, kraken rutting, son of a three legged, inbred, cross-eyed, rotten toothed, mangy yak!” Fingers gingerly checked her forehead for blood or a lump, and she laid back, trying to gather her scattered wits before she did anything else.

Slowly, the fog cleared from her brain. She vaguely remembered the headache she’d developed the night before, along with the burning pain in her limbs as she struggled with her magic and the unintentional Pony-up…even more hazy was the memory of dragging herself under the bed with the blankets…. Part of that might have been the fault of the nightmares and sour dreamscape that left her feeling more exhausted than when she’d gone to sleep. Sunset could recall fighting her way to the edge of wakefulness several times, seeking the familiar body that she had been expecting…craving…near enough to touch, only to be dragged back down into the black morass of shifting shadows and twisted wastelands and a Twilight who wasn't…

Sunset rolled to her side, finally squirming free of the blankets once she was half out from under the bed. No wonder she felt like utter garbage—anyone would after a night like she’d had. Running a hand through her hair, she sat heavily on the bed. At least her headache was gone, and her Pony-up had long since ended. A glance at her phone told her it was way too early to even consider being awake and alive…but there was no way she was going to get any more sleep.

“…shower it is,” she muttered, hoping the water would help loosen up the stiffness she had from sleeping on the floor. And maybe help wake her up the rest of the way. Grabbing clean clothes from her bag, she staggered down the hall to the bathroom.

Thirty minutes later and it was still an evil hour of “too early to be on this side of the sunrise,” but at least she felt marginally more mortal and less like the discard pile from a necromancer’s lair. After squeezing most of the water from her hair and giving it a quick once over with her brush, Sunset tiptoed her way downstairs where she caught the faint scent of fresh coffee.

The kitchen was dim, lit only by the thin, grey light of pre-dawn and the eerie lights of appliance displays in red or green; those weak sources reached into the spaces between objects, slowly drawing each one out from the formless shadows. Despite that, Sunset could easily make out a masculine figure, outlined in the same pale light that exposed dark blue skin and golden eyes as he turned in her direction. A tired smile tugged at Night’s face as he greeted her in a voice that did not shatter the peace of the early morning hour, instead weaving deftly through the quiet like it belonged there. “Good morning, Sunset. There’s coffee, if you’d like a cup.” He left it at that for the moment, his vocalization fading smoothly back into a contemplative yet welcoming stillness.

For a moment, Sunset was caught by a sense of deja vu, the scene reminiscent of more than a few times during her adolescence in Equestria, where she would stumble back to her room after yet another all night study session, opening the door to her balcony to let in fresh air and catching sight of Princess Celestia on her own balcony. The mare’s coat had been washed out from its usual brilliant white and pastel hues to grays and blues in the dark as she stared down over the terraced mountain city and the lands beyond for a long time before she lowered the moon and raised the sun to mark the beginning of another…

Though Night did not bear even the remotest physical similarity to the ancient alicorn, there was still something in the way he stood in that moment, surrounded by a meditative silence that felt like it curled around and welcomed her that struck her as the same as those long ago early morning vigils she’d watched and had desperately wanted to be a part of. Back then…she’d turned away from her balcony, from the sight of the ageless immortal, reminding herself quite firmly that belonging like that was nothing more than an illusion. Wishful thinking from an orphan filly who had still dreamed of the mother she so desperately desired, unable to fully admit that she had no place at the alicorn’s side…that her dreams were nothing more than that, a fantasy that could never be reality.

Here though…here there was a pervasive sense that she was welcome in the quiet and dark, not some kind of intruder or observer. She stepped forward, deeper into the kitchen, until she reached the counter where the coffee pot sat. There she found her mug waiting, the colorful custom words printed on the surface echoed some of her own tired morning ramblings just as brightly as it had on Christmas morning when she unwrapped it to expectant grins from Cadence and Shining—the latter of which was far too pleased with himself over the whole thing. A tired smile tugged at her lips before she could stop it, even as she filled the mug with bitter ambrosia and set about liberally doctoring it with creamer and sugar that sat at the ready on the countertop nearby. Heat seeped into her palms as she held the mug, closing her eyes and letting the richly scented steam fill her nose for a long minute before she took that first sip, savoring the way the hot coffee managed to taste sweet as it washed away the night’s foul dryness from her throat.

Night spoke again, the soft pitch once more picking its way through the quiet instead of disturbing it. "I was going to sit outside and watch the sun rise from the back porch. Would you like to join me?"

Blue-green eyes opened at the question, their owner surprised by both being asked and her own positive response, despite it being a cold winter morning. Sunset gave her answer with a shy smile and a nod, before following him quietly out the back door to the small patio, pausing in the journey only once as he offered her a thick, warm coat to put on—it was one of several in the laundry room, and the teen suspected that it had once belonged to Shining Armor, from breadth of the shoulders and the way it enveloped her like a blanket.

Settling into one of the chairs, hands still wrapped around a mug whose heat should have burned her but had ended up more in the zone of ‘comforting,’ Sunset stared at the navy sky that was slowly becoming touched at the bottom edge with achingly familiar shades of magenta and purple. The colors of early morning twilight giving way to the sun’s fiery presence stirred up memories not just involving her relationship with the nerdy girl who called this house home, but also of a time long ago, of when she was a fiery little filly with a curly coat that danced around alabaster hocks and tugged on pristine wing-feathers excitedly. “Is it time yet, Princess?” the filly in those memories asked excitedly, on those rare and important mornings where she looked forward to waking early or staying up late. Golden magic had caught her in its grip then, and warm wings enfolded her, as Princess Celestia had laughed and reassured her, “Soon, little sun, soon…”

The ache became bittersweet as the former unicorn stared at the changing skyline, emotions spinning themselves into words that spilled forth in a waterfall before she could even properly register that she’d begun talking. “I can remember,” Sunset murmured, the sounds turning to clouds of steam that drifted lazily upwards like dragon smoke, “once upon a time, the story of an immortal princess who was wisdom and compassion made real, whose strength was such that her magic granted her dominion over the heavens. The sun and moon danced across the sky at her behest, but despite being a goddess, she was ruled by her wisdom and compassion, and turned her powers to protect and serve the people of her realm, that they could rise and go about their days with joy, and rest peacefully at night, knowing that she was watching over them always…”

Her mind’s eye saw Princess Celestia as a little filly once had, larger than life, the sun and life, magic and love, warmth and safety, a being who engendered trust with her very presence…before the reality of her situation had torn the veil from her eyes. “Goddess of the Sun, Ruler of the Celestial Spheres, Princess of the Dawn…” Sunset couldn't stop the soft, sad laugh that escaped her. “When I was small, I clung to that story, to the myth of that princess. I wanted to be just like her, a true Daughter of the Sun…”

He turned towards her, expression concerned but thoughtful, and she sighed, taking a sip of her coffee. “I outgrew the fantasy…but it was a legend that shaped a lot of who I became…and who I’d like to be someday, I suppose.”

Night’s concern gave way to a warm and understanding smile. “Stories like that go hand in hand with the heavens in a lot of cultures, and I’ve always had an appreciation for them. It's fascinating, how we can look back at how the myths and legends of a people are shaped by and how they influence their search for understanding of celestial phenomena….though I must confess yours is a legend I’ve never encountered before. Do you happen to know a book that has it in there?”

Sunset shook her head, half cursing the moment that let her spill the truth dressed up as a myth. “I’ve…never found a book here that had the story in it…unless you count the book I gave Cadence for Christmas…but I made that one myself, from memory. Not exactly a credible academic source…” The excuse she’d given and the way he accepted it without suspicion made her heart twist painfully for more than one reason. For the incomplete truth, and for the fact that it was a truth, of sorts. No book in the human world would have history or myths from Equestria…one more reminder that she was the outsider here, no matter how much she pretended otherwise.

“That’s too bad…I’ve seen some of the stories in the book you gave Cady.” Night leaned comfortably back in his chair and looked out at the sky that was slowly lightening to a lavender streaked with shades of pink and red. “Would you like to hear some of the myths I know then? Ones about the sun always seem to sound better when watching it rise or set. Something about it captures the majesty and awe that the original storytellers were trying to impart, I think.”

The former unicorn nodded, not particularly trusting her voice at that moment. It was much easier to keep silent and stick to simple gestures, letting the familiarity and…something else, something she couldn't quite define because it was different to anything she’d experienced—a part of her dared to suggest that it was the same emotions projected when he interacted with his children, but she shied away from that. It would hurt too much when it turned out she was wrong.

So instead, she basked in the warmth of both the slowly rising sun and the emotions his presence and tone conveyed, letting it all wrap around her and serve as a soothing balm on a restless, nightmare rattled mind. Night Light was still turned toward the view as the last stars vanished one by one before the sun’s light, his voice rising and falling in a soft cadence that would have matched any of the storytellers that had graced Princess Celestia’s court….and all of his stories about the sun, or gods tied to it. Some stories were foreign, others she had heard read aloud by Twilight, and still more were familiar, as though half remembered and drawing on echoes from her past…

“…and so, Inari resolved that the Sun must be made to slow, or else Their children would not have time to tend the rice, and neither would the rice have time to flower and grow…depriving all of the grain that they depended on for food. Resolved, Cunning Inari wove a net of music and clouds and time itself, with fingers clever and nimble…”

With every story, every sip of the warm drink, Sunset could feel some of her tension drain out of her, drifting away with the receding shadows in the face of the dawn. It was such a powerful feeling, that had she been anypony else, she might have thought that the Princess of the Sun’s magic had somehow reached her here, driving away her inner demons with golden light. In a way she was both sad and glad—sad that it wasn't, glad that she wasn't fooled, and both that she had once been close enough to Princess Celestia to know the difference.

She put it out of her mind, choosing to float in a half daydreaming state as stories filled her ears, only rousing back to full wakefulness when the last of the coffee had been drunk and the full warmth of the winter morning sun was on her face, the air silent once more. The redhead turned towards her girlfriend’s father, giving a half smile. “…thank you. I liked listening to your stories…it reminded me a lot of…when I was very little…”

“I’m glad,” he responded, finishing the last of his own drink. “I always enjoyed sharing those kinds of stories with Twilight—Shining too, but he was never as interested as my daughter—and it's nice to be able to do the same with you…” There was amused affection now in his tone. “…Especially since it seems you and Twily have a shared passion for staring at the sky in all its splendor.”

Sunset felt her cheeks heat a little at what she knew was meant to be good-natured teasing, particularly when a part of her mind that sounded suspiciously like a voice that was both stupid and little suggested to her that that wasn't the only passion she and Twilight shared. “Uh…yeah,” she acknowledged. “It's…kind of become our thing, since…it's…relaxing. Fun. …makes all the stuff that we worry about seem small and insignificant…plus it makes her happy, and seeing Twilight happy is important to me…” Oh, ponyfeathers, please stop talking, Shimmer…before you basically give away that you're panting after his daughter like a diamond dog after a Fire Ruby! “…I want to be a good friend,” she tacked on lamely as a misdirection. “…I’m…starting to think her previous friends weren’t…actually that great…”

His eyebrows arched, and Sunset tried to shift focus, change the subject to something else. “…it was really nice though, to hear those stories. It makes sense now why she loves mythology despite being more a student of the ‘hard sciences.’ You're a good storyteller, Mr. Night.”

“…a better one than that visiting historian at the museum last November?” Night Light teased, his eyes dancing with laughter. “What was it I overheard you describing him as? ‘A reanimated yak fossil whose mother had dallied with a passing camel, his brain nothing more than a lump of algae stained swamp mud’ whose vaunted ‘expertise’ was little more than a ‘borderline creepy fixation on the worst aspects of a group of primates who discovered they loved sticking sharpened sticks into other primates?’” At her sheepish expression, he chuckled. “No need to be embarrassed, Sunset. I find your flair for descriptive insults to be both delightfully amusing and highly impressive.”

That made the teen smile crookedly. “I was being nice about him—what you didn't hear was what Twilight had just gotten done saying about him.” She bit her lip, then confessed, “I had to look about half those words up later. She…uh…has a very impressive vocabulary.”

More chuckles escaped the man. “I am aware…I am also aware that her commentary is likely justified. I may have memories of the same…lecturing ‘yak fossil’ during my undergraduate studies. Vague and hazy memories, mind, since I may or may not have fallen asleep due to his…monotonous cicada-like droning, and possibly dreamed most of it.” He paused, before adding wryly, “At least, I hope it was a dream. He certainly didn't strike me as the sort to do his history lecture on the Punic wars in a burlesque skirt and Roman legionnaire’s helm while dancing the can-can.”

Blinking, the redheaded teen stared at him for a long minute before sputtering with awkward laughter. “Stars, that’s an image…one I never wanted. For everyone’s sake, sir, I hope that it was a dream. Watching his attempt at reenacting ancient human combat was bad enough, especially with his desire to add ‘realistic' sound effects. Those poor audience volunteers…”

“Indeed,” Night responded sagely. “There are some things not even years of therapy can fix.”

Sunset lost it, falling into a full blown fit of laughter until her sides hurt. By the time she had recovered and wiped away the tears of mirth, Night was gathering their mugs and setting them aside so they wouldn't get broken. “I’m glad to see you seem to be feeling a little better this morning….did you and Twily have a chance to talk things out last night?” His tone grew quiet and curious without feeling like he was demanding. “I know that after she came to fully understand what she had said and done, she was very keen to apologize and set things right with you. That realization gave her quite a bit of a mental shake-up.”

Regardless of the tone, the subject made the teenager stiffen at first, at least until the end. Her girlfriend’s parents had so far always been honest with her. If they said that Twilight wanted to mend things after what had happened yesterday afternoon, then it was true. Feeling herself relax again, she answered his question, first with a shake of her head, then elaborating further, “I…only just woke up a little while before I came down; I think she might still be asleep.” She gripped her elbow with her other hand, eyes looking everywhere but at Night. “…I…I’m happy that she wants to…” Her voice faltered, trailing off as she lost her nerve and floundered with exactly how to word her thoughts. She also cringed inwardly at the growing realization that she was not sure she was entirely in the right mental state to handle that conversation yet.

Night made an encouraging sound, the lack of judgment giving her the courage to keep talking. “I…know she didn't mean to…that she wasn't acting like herself…but…” Sunset stared at the red and gold streaks in the sky, trying to regain the emotional quiet she’d found just minutes prior. “…what she said…the way she said it…it was…people have said it before... It…hurt…because I never thought…that she’d throw that in my face…” She gripped her elbow tighter, hunching in on herself in her seat. “…she knows how much it hurts…how it makes me feel.”

“That is one of the unfortunate sides to being close to someone,” Night acknowledged gently. “They know what hurts the most, and in anger, people sometimes say things when they lash out, things they regret later.”

The former unicorn blinked rapidly, swallowing back the ragged emotions and the magic curling under her skin like a barely contained animal. “I…I know. I have that problem a lot…when I get angry…I’ll just feel like I’m burning up and when I open my mouth ugly words come out, and I hurt people…but this time…”

Night Light nodded understandingly. “This time the shoe is on the other foot, and you're the one who has been stung.”

She sighed, trying to push her magic deeper. “Yeah…and I feel like I need to let all of the old feelings settle first before I can deal with the new, before I can hear her out…I know that’s probably silly or cowardly…but I’m afraid of what will happen if I don’t. If my head is still all…” She made a vague gesture with her one hand, “…it will be me who says something I’ll regret. That’s something I don't want to do, something that…as much as what she said hurts…that I don't think she deserves.” It was easier, somehow, in this liminal space, to voice things so intimate and painful without shame and embarrassment. Night Light was a surprisingly comforting listener, an air of calm acceptance and rationality to his presence that reminded her so much of how Twilight normally behaved when Sunset had things to get off her chest.

Even his voice, when he spoke, reminded her of Twilight from discussions past, and she swallowed around a lump in her throat as she realized how important that Twilight’s patient rationale had become to her, and how the increasing lack of it in the last month had been eating at her. “If that’s what you need to do, Sunset, that’s okay. Do you have something in particular that helps you organize your thoughts and feelings the way you need?”

“…physical activity,” she admitted. “Running, riding around on my bike, working out—I…have a small workout space in my attic…it's a lot easier to not think and just put all my feelings into what I’m doing. It…burns it away.” Sunset smiled faintly. “One of my friends, Applejack, lives on a farm out past the old mill, and lately, I’ve been going out there…I help out with some of the chores, and sometimes, we use the workout space in the barn…” Her eyes turned towards the direction she knew the farm was. “It's…hard work, but it feels good after…”

“I can imagine. There is something satisfying about a job well done…and a good workout.”

Sunset chuckled a little. She definitely had gotten both lately working with their magic at the farm. “Yeah. I was actually heading over there today to meet up with some of my friends. I’ve been helping plan a park beautification project—we’ve been getting people at school and around town to contribute time or money for supplies to help us pick up trash and add animal feeders and new park benches. AJ was gonna borrow the truck and she and I were going to hit the hardware store to buy the supplies. Means AJ is probably already up and halfway through her morning chores…”

Biting her lip at something that occurred, she glanced over at her girlfriend’s father. “…I would have invited Twilight to help out, but…I…didn't know if she was ready to go back to the park yet….” It was partially true, and the reason that she’d discussed briefly with Twilight. Luckily for her, the younger girl had soundly agreed with Sunset’s hesitation—she wasn't sure she was ready to go back yet either.

His features pulled into a frown as he considered her words and the meaning behind them. “I never did thank you for what you did,” he commented.

“I didn't do it for thanks,” Sunset whispered. “I did it because I couldn't let something like that happen.”

He reached over and squeezed her shoulder briefly. “I know.” There was silence then, things unspoken but somehow instinctively understood between them. After a few minutes he changed the subject. “Your project takes monetary donations?”

The redhead nodded. “Yes, sir. We’re putting the money towards supplies like trash bags, tools, and safety equipment. We don't want our volunteers picking up broken glass or anything like that bare handed.”

Night pulled out his wallet, counting out a handful of bills, before holding them out to her. “Consider this the family’s donation to your project then.”

She stared. “This is…a lot. Are you sure?”

“Quite sure. If there’s more than you need for supplies, use the extra to feed your volunteers. You can get party sized catering orders of sandwiches from the deli on Ninth. And you might consider, if it's open to walk-up volunteers, talking to Cadence for a mention on the radio.”

Asking Cadence was not something she’d considered, but it couldn't hurt. Sunset tucked the money into her wallet. “Okay…thank you…”

The early morning quiet closed back in around them for a time. Eventually, Night rose and collected their empty mugs. “Let’s get back inside before we freeze,” he suggested. Sunset nodded, following him back into the toasty warmth of the kitchen. They were refilling their coffee when he brought up the previous topic of conversation, his words measured and thoughtful, as though he had selected each one after careful deliberation. “For the record, I want to commend you, Sunset, for the amount of mature self-awareness you exercise in regards to your emotions, both in how you recognize your mental state and in finding healthy outlets for yourself.”

Blue-green eyes widened in surprise—she hadn’t expected to hear something like that. “…I never really thought of it that way…I just…I don't want to hurt Twilight…or anyone really, and if I get angry…that's what happens. People get hurt.”

“It does not take away from the fact that you have developed self awareness and what a therapist would likely call a ‘healthy coping mechanism.’” Night’s smile was warm and touched with…pride? He was…he was proud of her and her actions. It produced an odd, happy sort of satisfaction in Sunset, one that persisted even with his next question.

“You mentioned wanting to have space to sort your feelings before you sit down and talk things out with Twilight?” Golden eyes studied her over the rim of his coffee mug.

Sunset was torn. Part of her wanted to deny it, knowing that if she put it off, her girlfriend would just stew over it and end up in an even worse state with her anxieties running wild. That was something she didn't want to put the younger girl through that, no matter how badly she wanted time to sort through the morass of feelings and memories last night had unearthed. “I…do…” came the confession, guilt leaking into her tone as she hung her head. “…but…Twilight…I don't want her to get even more upset because she starts…you know, imagining the worst case scenario?”

Sipping at his drink, he leaned against the counter. “Sunset, I understand why you're worried…but in this case, it is completely reasonable to look after your own needs instead of putting them aside in favor of what will benefit Twilight the most. If you need to take a few days or even a week to get your head straight before you're willing to talk things out with her, then do so. Part of any healthy relationship—friendship included,” he clarified with an odd note to his voice, “is learning how to balance both parties needs, rather than one constantly sacrificing for the ‘good’ of the other.” When she opened her mouth to respond, he held up a finger to stop her. “More than that, Sunset, you are forgetting one detail: Velvet and I are more than willing to help when it comes to Twilight’s struggles with her anxieties.”

The former unicorn made a face as she looked into the swirling depths of her coffee. She had automatically discounted any outside assistance, mostly out of the habit of solving her own problems. It had never even crossed her mind that Twilight’s parents might be able to help keep the nerdy girl on something of an even keel while Sunset took some time to breathe. Instead, she had assumed that it was a choice between her desire and Twilight’s…and that wasn't much of a choice at all. Twilight would win, every time.

Still, Sunset wrestled with it, and it took quite a while before she responded to Night. “…if…if I was to take some space…would you and Mrs. Velvet be willing to make sure that Twilight is okay?” At his nod, she added, “I won’t leave without telling her…that's something I should tell her myself. I want to make sure she knows I’m going to come back…and that things will be okay…that I’m not going to leave her or not be best friends anymore or…or anything like that that she might get worried about.” She rubbed her elbow. “Would you be able to make sure she…doesn’t get the wrong idea before we talk…?”

He reached over and gave her another of those soothing shoulder pats. “We can handle keeping Twilight firmly grounded for the week, Sunset. She will be fine while you take your time and space.”

Nodding jerkily, feeling that gnawing sense of her own instincts demanding that no one could protect her Sparky the way she could, Sunset blurted. “If…if she’s not though…you’ll let me know, right? So I can come over and fix it?” The redhead hugged herself reflexively, struggling with the conflicting feelings and finally settling with the offered compromise when Night agreed.

“I believe we can do that, if Twilight shows signs of handling things poorly despite intervention. I do not believe she will, especially if you give her a specific deadline to wait when you explain this to her.” Night smiled encouragingly. “It will work out, Sunset. Both of you want to make this right between you, and as long as both of you feel that way, you will get through this. The strongest bonds are not so easily broken by a few fights.”

Her shoulders relaxed and she set her mug in the sink. “Alright…thank you…I…if it's okay with you, I’m going to message AJ and see if I can head to her place a little early.” With that, Sunset headed for the stairs to gather her things and make a phone call.

Oh look! Pseudo-parent-child bonding!

Night is a good dad. Even to wayward unicorn girls who follow his daughter home. Bit of a novel experience for Sunset, of course, since her first childhood lacked any real example of a male role-model authority figure.

Unless you count Kibitz.

Sunset does not.

About the only thing she and Kibitz ever agreed on is that Blueblood was "an absolute mule, with the manners of a starving diamond dog in a dragon's hoard."

Anyway...

Sunset's had one hell of a night. The morning has gone better, but...she's still rattled. And she has yet to talk to Twilight.

*winces*

That's going to be...fun.

No wait. The other thing.

Agonizingly awkward and uncomfortable.

But hey, at least I got to enjoy writing out a couple of Sunset's more creative moments of cursing here. I always enjoy coming up with those.