Twilight exited her closet, arms held out as she did a slow little spin, showing off another of her new shirts for Sunset’s approval. This one presented an alternative dictionary definition of ‘programmer’ as ‘an organism that magically turns caffeine into software.’ The redhead burst into laughter. “Where do you find these?” she asked.

“Different stores,” Twilight answered, leaning against the wall next to her closet door. “They're honestly easier to find online though.”

Sunset stood from the bed where she was being treated to an impromptu fashion show, and padded across the carpet, in a slow, deliberate stalk towards her girlfriend, trapping her against the wall. “I like the new wardrobe,” she teased, leaning down to kiss her. “It's all very you, Sparky…” Her hands found Twilight’s hips, and she pulled the smaller girl flush against her.

Lavender skinned arms wrapped around her neck as their lips met, heat and hunger and more than a little tongue involved in the kiss. Sunset growled as she pushed Twilight harder up against the wall, lifting her up an inch or two off the ground with hands that had migrated to her backside. As Sunset moved her lips down to nibble on Twilight’s throat, her girlfriend threw her head back and let out a soft moan. “Sunny…” she gasped. “…please…don't stop…”

The former unicorn was happy to oblige, panting in Twilight’s ear and clenching her hands slightly. “Sparky…” she breathed, tongue flitting out to trace the curve of that ear and then down her jaw. “My Sparky…” One hand hooked the other girl’s leg higher, until Twilight wrapped it around Sunset’s thigh.

Unfortunately, the rest of the universe had other plans, and whatever Twilight was going to say was interrupted by the sound of a car door slamming. Both girls froze, Sunset’s mouth still on her girlfriend’s skin, Twilight’s mouth open with another moan half on her lips. Their eyes met as they stayed motionless for almost a full minute, before they both broke down into breathless, flustered giggles.

“…I guess we should go down and say hi,” Sunset said after the laughter ended. “I still haven’t officially met your cousin—though she sounds like some weird fusion of Rarity, Pinkie, and Cadence…which is not the strangest thing I’ve said all week.”

Twilight giggle-snorted. “I’m afraid to ask what else was in the running.”

Thinking back to a few conversations she had with Pinkie at lunch or in art, Sunset made a face. “Trust me…sometimes it's just better not to ask.”

Rolling her eyes, Twilight opened the bedroom door to let Spike out. “I can imagine,” she said sarcastically, watching the dog race out and down the hall. “Come on.” The two teens continued laughing and chatting as they made their way towards the stairs.

It was Sunset who picked up on it first, foot pausing just above the second step from the top. She frowned, holding out a hand for Twilight to indicate that something was off. Instead of the happy chatter of greetings and family reunion, there was the familiar noise: the kind of suppressed whimper and too fast, harsh, short breathing of a person on the edge of panic. Exchanging a worried look, both teens hurried down the steps.

In the front hall, Velvet and a young woman that had to be Wildsong were bracketing another young woman with dark amethyst hair that had streaks of gold going through it. To her eyes, it seemed like they were the only thing keeping her together, and as Sunset studied trembling features, she could pick out physical traits shared by Twilight and her father, confirming that this was Glamour Shot on the verge of a full fledged hysterical meltdown. Velvet looked up at their arrival and asked, “Sunset, can you be a dear and make a cup or two of that tea blend of yours? I think we could use some.”

“Sure thing, Mrs. Velvet,” she responded, glancing back at Twilight as her girlfriend made a distressed sound of her own upon seeing her cousin’s state. “Sparky? I think there's a small container of some homemade cookies left in my backpack—can you go get them for me while I brew some tea?” The definitive task would take a few minutes, and give Twilight something to focus on so she could manage whatever was going on with less anxiety.

Turning back once Twilight raced back up the stairs, she met Wildsong’s eyes, recognizing the helpless fury in them for what it was. “Hey,” she offered, “Wildsong, right? It’s…it’s going to be okay—whatever it is, I’m sure there's a way to fix it.”

Velvet hummed in agreement as Sunset slipped by them to head to the kitchen, and Night voiced his own warmly. “Well said, Sunset…and she’s right, girls. You're both here and in one piece, so no matter what is wrong, we’re here to help—that's what we do in this family. Come sit down in the living room…”

With her back to the door and her steps carrying her into the kitchen, Sunset couldn't see it, but she could feel the relief that took away a portion of the anxious tension that had filled the front hall like a choking cloud. She held onto that feeling as she found the pretty, well-used tea service Velvet kept for everyday usage; something about the familiar actions of measuring out the loose tea for the pot both sharpened her focus and soothed her nerves. Sunset enjoyed soda and cider and coffee well enough—the fizz of a freshly opened bottle of Dr. Pepper in particular was a guilty pleasure for the former unicorn turned teenager—but there was something about real tea that filled her with the comforting sense of nostalgia and the times when she had been happy in Equestria.

She could remember, with clarity, the meticulous way Princess Celestia had made their evening tea when she was a filly, and how hard she had worked to quietly memorize the measurements and the steps without letting on what she was doing…step one in a master plan that she executed on the princess’s birthday when Sunset was six. The look on the Solar ruler’s face had been one of happy shock, when Sunset had presented her with a prepared tray with teas that she’d made herself, and plate of dessert goodies that the unicorn had pilfered from the palace kitchens when the cook was…busy…chasing down the group of chickens that had…maybe…kinda…sorta…found their way into the pantry…

With a little help from a mischievous little filly and a guard who’d been easily bribed with two slices of raspberry rum cake, of course.

A faint smirk tugged on her lips—stolen palace cake had always been the best cake, and even now she stood by that.

But all that aside, she could remember the several failed batches of tea before she’d finally managed to mimic the steps perfectly, and the surprise on the princess’ face when she’d taken that first sip only to find it exactly to her liking. After that, they would take turns making tea, and Sunset had been introduced to the subtle art behind different blends and styles, different cultural variations, and even a few more formal ways of serving tea to guests. It had been among the lessons that she’d gotten that had nothing to do with magic or academics that she had thrown herself into with ready abandon, a form of bonding with the mare she had seen as the closest thing she would ever know to a mother; even after the lessons themselves had run their course, Princess Celestia always made time in her day to have tea with Sunset.

Shaking herself out of the memories, Sunset checked the tea and determined it was ready, and let her gaze wander over the tray, a critical eye checking it over to ensure it was as it should be.

“…I’m not sure which of you is more of a fan of tea,” Twilight’s voice came from next to her. “You or Mom.” When Sunset turned her way, she offered out a small container. “Here’s the cookies you asked for.”

Noticing a smudge of chocolate on the corner of her mouth, Sunset chuckled. “I see you found the cupcakes I brought up earlier too.” A quick glance showed them alone in the kitchen, and she bent close even as she took the cookies to kiss away the chocolate. “Did they help?”

Twilight kissed her back, tasting of chocolate and sprinkles. “Yes…thank you.”

Sunset shook her head with amusement and began arranging the cookies on a little plate on the tray. “Anytime, Sparky. Now…you want to help me get this in there? I think your mom is right—it’ll help calm everyone’s nerves.”

Together they carried everything out into the living room, where Glamour and Wildsong had been placed on the couch, with Velvet still on Glamour Shot’s other side. Night was in his customary armchair, and Shining had taken to leaning against the wall near the big window, his arms crossed and the way he kept shifting his weight suggesting to Sunset that he was fighting the urge to pace. The redhead set the tray on the coffee table and began the work of serving tea to everyone who wanted a cup. The low murmured questions she asked and the actions that accompanied them gave her a chance to really study both the new arrivals and read the room.

She wasn't sure what shade Glamour’s skin normally was, but even she could tell that the young woman was pale and washed out looking from anxiety and stress. Her hands trembled when Sunset pressed the cup into them, and amber fingers had taken a moment to press Glamour’s tighter around it so she wouldn’t drop it on her lap. Watery eyes had focused on her long enough for Sunset to smile encouragingly, and a little coaxing from Velvet had her sipping slowly at the calming infusion a minute later. It was very reminiscent of some of Twilight’s more anxious moments.

Wildsong was a different story entirely. Her short hair had alternating stripes that made Sunset wonder if her Equestrian counterpart was a zebra…or at least part zebra. The black stripes contrasted with the rainbow of color that was the rest of her hair, but also with the honey colored skin that was flushed with anger and agitation. She had one arm curled around Glamour’s shoulders, her fingers tapping a restless pattern on her upper arm, and she took the tea from Sunset distractedly.

Whatever had happened, it had to be serious but in a way that neither of them could fight easily.

Her eyes checked in on the rest of the family. The atmosphere was one of concern and comfort, even as Velvet thanked her for getting the tea. Sunset settled Twilight into Velvet’s normal armchair, before perching with her own tea on the arm of it, hoping her protective actions would be overlooked in favor of the immediate crisis.

For a while, no one said anything. The only sound was the sipping of tea, a few sniffles, and Glamour’s breathing slowly returning to a normal rhythm. Eventually though, the silence had to come to an end, and it was Night who broke it. “Glamour,” he began, “it is very apparent something happened. We want to help, but we need you to tell us what it was so we can.”

Sunset watched an expression of panic come over Glamour’s face, and Velvet took the shaking cup from her gently to prevent her dropping it. Wildsong let out a slow sigh, and got her girlfriend’s attention. “You told me this was the part of your family that cared,” she reminded Glamour. “You need to tell them, Angel, or I’m going to, because it will be a frigid day in Hell before you go back to that bastard or his control after what he said to you today!”

The anger in her voice made Sunset tense—it was a kind of righteous fury, not the same as the former unicorn’s own searing flame but akin to the way she’d felt when Twilight told her about the encounter with the creep over New Years. It filled the large living room with its presence, and she could almost taste the coppery tang in the back of her throat, her stomach twisting with a faint sense of nausea. Her free hand immediately sought Twilight’s shoulder, needing the contact to stabilize her own emotional response to a scene she was mostly a spectator for, and she felt a shaky lavender hand come up to grip it. Across the room, she caught the motion of Shining Armor becoming even more tense, saw his face take on that calculating, intense look she knew meant he was thinking hard.

She could understand why; at first glance, it sounded as though Glamour had some kind of abusive boyfriend…but Sunset was fairly certain that she was remembering the conversations correctly and that the only person Glamour was actually seeing was the woman next to her doing the talking. So who could Wildsong possibly be talking about?

And then Glamour broke under the mix of peer pressure and gentle encouragement, starting to speak around hiccups and choked off sobs, her sentences broken and full of false starts…and Sunset felt her confusion morph first into shock and numb horror, before that gave way into a fury so deep that she could feel herself shaking and her magic screamed within her for a violent release against the perpetrator.

Laughter echoed in the narrow stairwell as the two girls headed back up to their dorm room after lunch. Glamour was excited to finish packing and get on the road—they were both looking forward to the weekend away, and she was desperate to be able to just be out of easy reach of her parents' social games, if only for two or three days. She’d long gotten used to them dragging her to fancy dinners and parties hosted by the wealthy elite, but in the last year, they had taken an unpleasant turn. Instead of encouraging her to mingle with other children of the wealthy in her age bracket, it was becoming more and more about her mother introducing her to specific rich bachelors—some of then as old as thirty five!—and her father expecting her to engage with and entertain the sons of his business partners and clients as some thinly veiled ploy to get more concessions from them in a deal.

Lately it had seemed like they were accosting her every week, sometimes two or three nights, sending couriers to deliver outfits for her to wear to whatever they were demanding she attend. Plus her mother had started lamenting her “pickiness about men” over the phone, telling her repeatedly that if the money was good enough, she could work around any flaws…and that nothing was stopping her from having a cute personal trainer or ‘driver’ on the side. The whole thing upset her, to the point where she had started screening her calls and only answering her mother if the woman called more than twice in a ten minute window.

It made her Song angry, an impotent fury that had nowhere to go, other than to run it off or go to the gym to work herself to exhaustion to burn it off. The prospect of spending the weekend down at cousin Night’s house had them both excited, as did the upcoming double date with her sweet, shy cousin and the girl who was responsible for bringing Twilight out of her shell. They would be able to sleep in a bed really meant for two people, not cram themselves into a tiny single bed really meant for one person, converse with people and not worry about policing their language, and would spend a whole day being allowed to be together, in love…just like a normal couple.

Plus she’d be able to gush with Twilight about their girlfriends! Her cousin was turning out to be every bit the mix of friend and little sister Glamour had always wanted when she was younger—at least until she’d been old enough to recognize that she wouldn’t wish what she had to deal with on anyone, especially not a shy and soft spoken girl like Twilight had been. Being pushed towards guys was taking enough of a toll on her own psyche, and she was glad that Cousin Night and his wife were nothing like her own parents.

Still…for one or two wistful moments, she allowed herself to imagine what life would have been like if she had been born to different parents, if she’d grown up as Twilight’s sister with Cousin Night as her dad instead of her actual father, with a mother who didn't measure every relationship in dollar signs…to have parents that loved her like Twilight’s so clearly did… Even as an errant train of thought more than any concrete fantasy it almost brought her to tears.

Then a niggling thought intruded, sinister in its simple truth. If she’d had different parents, a different family, would she still be her? And more than that…would she still have her Song?

Was this stolen, secret love worth the hard parts she had to deal with?

Glamour froze for a few seconds, her brain shuddering to a halt, refusing to address the question, and when her girlfriend paused next to her, a worried touch against her back registering to her nerves, she almost threw herself into a warm body, hugging Wildsong for all she was worth. Arms of corded muscle folded around her a moment later, squeezing her close. “Not that I’m objecting, Angel, but…what brought this on?”

Her response was a shrug, still unwilling to touch the question her mind had put forward. It was too much, too painful and bitter, and it would sour her for the day. She did want to waste time thinking about her parents now. So she plastered as real of a smile on as she could. “You looked especially huggable right then?”

Wildsong rolled her eyes. “Goof,” she teased. If she knew Glamour’s smile was faked , she didn't call attention to it. Her Song was good about that when it was something she really wasn't ready to talk about.

Then fingers poked at her ribs, aiming for her most ticklish spots. The young woman let out a squeak, trying to get away from being tickled, but those fingers followed. She squealed with laughter, bringing her own hands up to retaliate in kind. “Oh! It is on!” The two of them began chasing each other down the hall of their floor, weaving around bodies, furniture, and the odd misplaced sock on the floor, laughing loudly. Despite the childish nature of the impromptu game, there was another layer to the way those hands touched her that made Glamour’s nerves tingle, and one look into her partner’s eyes told her Song felt it too. They might be getting a bit of a later start than intended…and Glamour was okay with that.

She fumbled with the doorknob to the room, all while she had Wildsong’s arm around her shoulder, acting as though Glamour was carrying her weight. It meant she was bent forward a little as she finally managed the feat of unlocking their door with her key and pushing it open. “I swear, Tiger, you're going to get it!” Glamour Shot threatened playfully.

“Dear,” came a voice from within the room. “You shouldn't play such games or slouch so much—you might end up with scoliosis.”

Jerking like someone had electrocuted her, Glamour stared at the sight of her mother sitting placidly on her bed, taking a file to one of her long, manicured nails. “Mom?!” the young woman yelped, her voice a strangled squeak. “What are you doing in here?”

Another new voice answered. “Since you refuse to answer your phone as is proper, young lady, we came to find out why.” Her father gave her a disapproving frown from her desk where he sat, hand resting on Glamour’s open laptop. “And we find you shouting and carrying on in the public spaces of this rat infested habitation with a member of the help like a drunken toddler.”

Sunset interrupted. “The help?” she asked, the control she had over her own emotions slipping, and the word came out of her mouth the exact same way she’d heard Canterlot nobles had used it in her hearing. “He did not seriously—?!”

“Oh yeah,” Wildsong responded. “Sure as hell did, kid...though I kinda expected worse. People like him? I usually hear things like ‘nappy haired bandy.’ Being called a servant was actually pretty tame.” Everyone else in the room looked sincerely uncomfortable, and Sunset was smart enough to figure out it was a slur…probably akin to ‘mudpony,’ ‘featherduster,’ or ‘ringer.’

The redhead’s face twisted up. “But to assume you were, what? A maid? Because…what? No designer jeans? No gaudy fake rocks set in pretend gold?”

A shrug was given as part of her reply. “Who knows? Could have been that, could have been my stripes, my haircut, my clothes, the fact that I’m butch…shit, maybe I just didn't have enough carats hanging off me? Maybe he just figured his money meant that his kid had a live-in maidservant? Don't worry, I gave as good as I got.”

Glamour Shot’s insides felt like the heart of a glacier: frozen, dark, and bitter as she took in the sight before her eyes. The refuge that she and Song had crafted, a slice of privacy away from judging eyes and expectations had been invaded, violated. Her desk, where her father Lucky Shot sat, had been gone through, most of the drawers half open and her laptop open and on and pulled up to one of his many accounts. Her neat stack of notebooks with her homework and projects had been shoved to the side in favor of his briefcase, and he appeared to be using her favorite mug as an ashtray for one of the foul scented cigars he loved to smoke. That of course meant that their dorm now reeked of fancy male cologne, her mother’s perfume, cheap tobacco, and the open thing of nail polish her mother was using now on her nails. Nail polish that the young woman realized was hers, taken from the beauty kit that her mother had apparently pilfered from their bathroom and helped herself to.

She felt violated. Was there nowhere that she was safe?

Wildsong snorted, and stepped into the room. “Real original, Thirsty Howl. I wasn't aware B&E or petty vandalism were now part of Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.” She went to move by him, plucking the cigar right out of his mouth on the way and dropping it in a half empty water bottle from a vending machine to douse the end. “And no smoking in the dorm rooms.”

Oh no. This was bad. Her father was going to lose it.

“Just who do you think you are!?” Lucky Shot began to heave himself from the chair.

Panicking, Glamour intervened. “Daddy, she’s like, my roommate, and she’s totally right! We could get in serious trouble—there's a big no smoking rule and they kick you out for breaking it!”

Her mother frowned at her hand as she painted her nails carefully. “She has a point, Lucky. A black mark on her record would be a bit unseemly—what would your grandmother say?” Her eyes flicked up to meet Glamour’s and the young woman could tell her mother was trying to help deescalate the situation. “Though I’m not sure why you insist on staying here, dear.”

Bracing herself for what she knew was coming, Glamour said, “I like being able to connect with my classmates, Mom, and it's a lot easier to get involved in group study sessions in the common room here. Besides, I totally have the best roommate!”

“I understand you're happy to have such a good friend and that you're serious about your grades, but you could still have that if you were to join my old sorority.” Summer Breeze gave her daughter a warm smile and then turned the expression on Wildsong. “I’m sure I could even get them to give you an invitation too,” she told the wild haired young woman. “Then the two of you could be roommates and study buddies in someplace a little less…on the edge of being condemned as a biohazard.” She set the polish on the nightstand. “Especially if you were to offer your assistance to any of the sorority sisters who needed tutoring.”

Wildsong let out a slow, deep breath, a sign that she was trying to resist saying something without thinking. “I appreciate the offer, but it's a little bit late in the year to think about uprooting our accommodations,” she responded, managing to keep her voice level. “Maybe I’ll think about it over the summer.”

“You really ought to,” Glamour’s mother gushed. “It would present you with so many wonderful opportunities! Especially if you grew your hair out in a more even style—Glamour or the sorority sisters can show you how to really make yourself stand out as an even more exotic beauty, and I’m sure they could introduce you both to some nice boys from very good families!” She turned back to her daughter, who was trying to keep her expression vapid and neutral. “I know you're a little uncomfortable by yourself with some of the young men your father and I have introduced you to, but maybe having your friend with you on a double date will help you break the ice!”

Summer meant well, but it didn't help her feel any better. Particularly when her father interjected. “Stop coddling her, Summer. She needs to get over this hang-up of being distant and frigid to her dates, before she starts to gain a reputation.” His face twisted in anger. “No daughter of this family will be thought of as being like one of those people. Tranquil Dancer has brought enough shame on the family with his inappropriate behavior.”

It felt like her heart had completely stopped, transformed into pure ice that was so cold it burned even to breathe…so she didn't. Song’s knuckles were white from where she gripped her own desk chair, biting her tongue to keep from exploding at the balding man with the world’s worst comb-over. Even her mother was coming as close to frowning as she got, and that said something. “Lucky,” she challenged her husband, “while we both want Glamour to find a nice match from a good family, you should also completely respect her desire to finish her education for a career of her own—it means she can be much more selective about which suitor she decides to pick since she won't be entirely dependent on an allowance to be happy. If she wants to put a little more focus on that for a few years, and engage in more casual meet and greets to gain a wider feel for her options—”

“Enough! Her attitude has already offended half a dozen clients, and cost me the Luxurious accounts! And now she’s packing her bags to go who knows where when she is supposed to be preparing to play her part in tomorrow’s charity gala. It took me months to plan this and even longer to convince Blue Oryx to attend!” He whipped around to his daughter. “Pack your things—you're coming home for the weekend, and we’ll have a service move your things to the sorority house for when you come back. It's time you start acting like a proper member of this family and doing what you're told—this low class teenage rebellion ends, and it ends now.”

“After t-that,” Glamour sniffled, “I snapped a little. I t-told him I couldn't…that I had plans here…” she trailed off.

Wildsong picked up the story for her when it became clear Glamour couldn’t continue. “She spun a complicated lie about going to a fancy party as your guest, sir,” she addressed Night, “as the date of an Italian cousin of someone named Cadence? It was enough of a story that her mom played middle man again and told him that Glamour could come home and play next weekend, and suggested he offer up his assistant or something to be arm candy for some rich creep. Then we packed as quick as we could and came here…I told her we needed to tell you, since…it feels like there’s no way what he’s threatening is legal—she’s twenty, not ten or fourteen…and she said you're reasonable and pretty chill.” She fell silent, hugging Glamour tighter around the shoulders. There was worry, but from where Sunset was sitting, she was hiding it well.

At that point, the room was so deathly silent that Sunset was fairly sure she could actually hear the sound of her heart pounding with magic and fury. She forced it down—the worst thing in the world right now would be if she caught fire, but the emotions didn’t stop. Not when the story that Twilight’s cousin was telling struck deep in direct opposition to the Equestrian native’s cultural sensibilities. The fire inside only cooled when Twilight squeezed her hand, though Sunset was not sure if she was seeking or offering comfort. Regardless, it served to remind her that she needed to get her emotions—and by proxy, her magic—under control, before they got out of hand.

She forced herself to breathe, slowly, a steady in and out of air that she could hear Twilight copy, even as she clutched Sunset’s hand like a lifeline. The former unicorn tuned that out for a moment, focusing on why she was so angry on Glamour’s behalf. The first part was obvious—her father was little better than the scummy would-be rapists that Sunset had attacked in the park. He treated Glamour and her body like a commodity for him to use in his business dealings, the way another person might use a fancy office or a gift or an extra item in the purchase bag ‘thrown in’ to ‘sweeten the deal.’ Even the most unpleasant of nobles didn't do that, even the most xenophobic of tribalists—sure, maybe they deliberately made sure their foals’ friend circles were entirely ‘the right kind of pony,’ or encouraged them to keep their partnerships to their same social strata, but that was a far cry from this…nopony would ever treat another’s body like that. Only a few treated their own bodies like that, and they were few and far between because it didn't get them far. Most ponies just didn't have the interest for such to be an effective method of manipulation.

The deeper discomfort took longer to recognize, but when Sunset realized what bothered her so badly, she actually felt part of her anger drain away like water in a sink once the plug was removed. It wasn't something that would ever sit right, but as far as she knew, humans were much less at risk of being driven to madness if someone prevented them from following their passion, the way it did for ponies. What Glamour’s parents were doing, and how her father at least seemed to be pushing her in directions away from the education and career she wanted, all to make her do what he thought was her obligation and duty…it was wrong, even for a human…but it wasn't the jarring, soul-deep anathema for them that it was for a pony. It would never elicit the same kind of anger, fear, and disgust as it would in Equestria. Sunset exhaled, reminding herself of some of the princess’ lessons on interspecies diplomacy.

“Remember, little sun, these aren't ponies, and they don't have the same traditions we do. They eat different things, view their families in a different way, and have their own language and holidays. As long as no creature is being harmed or forced against their will, we need to respect that their ways are not wrong. Only different, and that differences have no bearing on whether they are capable of being our allies or not…”

Sure, Princess Celestia had been talking about Hippogryphs and some of the more baffling aspects of their culture at the time, but the lesson…it wasn't a bad one, she admitted privately. It made her feel more than a little guilty about how she had behaved in regards to humanity…now that she’d actually gotten to know some humans closely, and started to see them more as beings instead of intelligent monsters. Way to act just like the Canterlot traditionalists, Shimmer, she grumbled bitterly to herself.

It didn't stop her from feeling a deep seeded sense of offense and fury on Glamour’s behalf that her father was trying to dictate her life’s path, of course. Especially because it was a violation of both the ‘no harm’ and ‘consent’ clauses. Glamour had tried her best to be friendly and kind to Twilight, and she didn’t deserve to be driven to being on the verge of tears and panic because her sire was a terrible man.

Twilight made a distressed sound, and her grip tightened further, pulling Sunset out of her thoughts. Blue-green eyes looked down at her girlfriend, whose face seemed to switch rapidly between anger and worry. Spike had crawled into her lap, and she was hugging the dog tight with her other arm. The redhead followed both their gazes and realized that while she’d been lost in her own thoughts, wrestling with her rage—and the magic that still buzzed like a hornet’s nest under her skin—Glamour had finally given in to tears, sobbing into her hands. Despair hung about her like a cloak, and Wildsong had pressed tight to her side, looking about on the edge of furious tears herself.

Velvet was the first member of the family to move, enveloping both young women in one of her ‘mom hugs’. She murmured reassuring words into Glamour’s hair, alongside gentle praise for having the courage to tell them what was going on. Glamour collapsed brokenly into the embrace, weeping in a way that Sunset remembered doing herself on more than one occasion…and she felt her own eyes well up as Twilight Velvet weathered the storm and provided comfort to both a relation and a total stranger.

“You girls did exactly the right thing, coming to us…I just wish you had told us sooner,” she soothed. “Don't worry…it's not the end of the world, and it's going to get better. You both have a right to be angry and hurt—what Lucky and Summer have been doing are wrong, and you don't have to put up with it.”

Wildsong spoke up again. “I’ve been telling her that for a while,” she said, voice rough and thick. “But she was afraid they’d disown her like they did her sister, taking away the money she needs to finish her degree, and cut her off entirely from the rest of her family.”

Night stilled. “…is that what Lucky told her?” he asked, his voice low and frosty. When Wildsong nodded, he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Velvet said, her voice filled with heartbreak that Sunset could practically taste in the air, even from across the room. “…your sister was never disowned from the family, even if your father cut her out of his life.”

Glamour hiccuped and stared up at Velvet with something like faint hope and trepidation. “What? But…Daddy said…and she never wrote…or called…and she just went away…”

Taking another one of those deep breaths, Night pulled his glasses off to rub the bridge of his nose. “He lied then, and if he did that, I wonder if he had a direct hand in cutting contact between you and her. Your sister is part of Doctors Without Borders—she’s been traveling the world for years as a surgeon…” He settled his glasses back on his face. “Your father cannot cut you off from the family educational trust, Glamour, nor can he remove you from the family. Only Stalwart Veracity has that power, and it's one he has never exercised, regardless of how unpleasant some members of the family can be.”

She dissolved back into tears at that, though these seemed to be tears of relief. For a long minute, it was the only sound in the room, and Sunset moved so that she and Twilight were squished together in the armchair, her arm going around her girlfriend’s shoulders as they watched events unfold. Twilight pressed into Sunset’s side, hugging Spike tightly now with both arms, her face buried in his fur. Across from them, Velvet was now rocking Glamour gently, soft apologies joining her litany of reassuring words.

Night focused on the less agitated Wildsong, his expression having hardened into a stern frown, so cold that Sunset half expected hoarfrost to start forming on the lenses of his glasses. “You both have my word that this situation will not be continuing as it has been, nor will either of you suffer academic consequences because of my cousin’s overblown ego.” Sunset shivered—the icy rage in his eyes actually made it feel as though the room’s temperature had dropped ten or twenty degrees, and part of her wanted to recoil when he rose abruptly to his feet. “If you will excuse me,” he continued, “I have some calls to make and people to inform of the situation. I assure you that this will be dealt with swiftly; Stalwart will be exceedingly upset to learn what cheap games Lucky has been up to…” Golden eyes flicked to Glamour then back to Wildsong. “If you wish it, it will be arranged so that neither of you has to suffer his presence in your vicinity ever again.”

Wildsong’s lips twisted into a feral expression. “You’d better damned well believe ‘I wish it.’ He’s made her cry too many times.”

As he nodded and began making his way out of the room towards his office, Shining spoke up from the window, adding his two cents. “It's more than just a restraining order he’s looking at,” he stated, and Sunset recognized Shining Armor, Detective of the CCPD in his tone and posture. “What he has been doing can—and often is, for investigation purposes—considered a form of prostitution or trafficking. Given the behavior you described, and the ease with which he has been trying to push his own daughter into the arms of strange men in exchange for financial gain, it is very likely that this is the least of his transgressions. Say the word, and I will happily contact my superiors at the station to file a report, as well as have my partner contact the local FBI liaison to give them a tip.” His mouth was set in a grim line, and Sunset realized she could entirely see how his counterpart had become Captain of the Royal Guard in Canterlot Castle. “Between that and Uncle Stalwart’s connections, that will have people crawling up his backside with a microscope, looking for every misdeed he and his ‘associates’ have ever even thought about doing.”

Twilight’s cousin raised her face away from Velvet’s shoulder to stare at Shining. “…y-you mean y-you think he’s d-done this to o-others? Is…is that why Dia l-left?”

“I don't know,” Shining admitted, “but with your permission, I can get the ball rolling to find out…and if he has, then he’ll have to face the consequences.”

Her brows pinched, but she nodded. “D-do it.”

He reached out and gently squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll take care of it. You ladies worry about having a good weekend. We’ll fix this.”

After Shining went to join his father in making some calls, Sunset found herself falling back into thought from her position as an outside observer. With the knowledge that action was being taken, her own rage had cooled to a low simmer, and she could take in what was going on with a much more level head. This was a family dealing with an internal crisis…but…they were just as focused on Wildsong as they were on Glamour—even now, Velvet still had both of them in her hug, despite Wildsong being more calm and mostly attending to her partner. Night had addressed both of them, and had asked Wildsong what she wanted.

And with a very eye opening jolt, Sunset realized that it was exactly how they’d treated her when she had a crisis in their presence. Like the night she’d woken up screaming from a nightmare…or…back when they had barely known her for more than a month or two…when she’d come in after the prank in the locker-room. Not only had Twilight spent two nights and a whole day trying to put her back together, buy Velvet had cleaned her clothes without question—including her battered jacket, going so far as to even stitch up the worst of the tears in the old leather, cleaning its surface with leather soap that Sunset knew they had no reason to have ‘just laying around the house,’ meaning they had bought it just for the purpose of cleaning her jacket. On top of that, they’d made her favorite foods, and provided her with reassuring hugs, and Night had picked up a gallon of her favorite ice cream for the inevitable nightmares she suffered. At the time she’d been so out of it, she barely registered it, and by the time she’d been in a place to reflect on everything, she had avoided thinking too deeply.

However, Sunset couldn't deny it now, not watching how they reacted and cared for Glamour and Wildsong in this moment. They really had been treating Sunset like family the entire time…it wasn’t an illusion, or a delusion, it wasn't the wishful thinking of the lonely little filly locked away inside her who had only ever wanted a family…a place to belong. Her eyes burned with the tears that filled them and her throat constricted tight around an aching, painful lump lodged in it. The former unicorn could feel it…the subtle ties that had been weaving around her for months, anchoring her reformed, reinvented self to this world and people in it.

Twilight was the strongest among those anchors, a chain wrapped willingly around her heart, but she was not the only one. Each of the people in her life she had forged a relationship with was a connection binding her to this world, the life she had here, and to the person she was becoming…and each of them had taught her something about herself along the way.

Applejack, dependable and true, who had been the first of those she’d harmed to reach out a hand to help her up and not knock her down…It had been the blonde’s firm strength and blunt, honest nature that helped Sunset make sense in those early days of her own emotions, of what was okay to feel and want, and that she could be true to who she was deep down. That real friends were those she could trust to accept who she really was. Applejack, who told them all at New Years that they were family without the need for the bond of blood, who cared enough to ask about the world Sunset had left behind, and worried about whether or not the unicorn-turned-human had food to eat and a warm bed to sleep in…she was the roots of a great tree—not unlike the ones she cultivated so carefully—dug deep into the earth and preventing the ground from washing away even in the worst storms of Sunset’s life.

Never far from the farmer was Rarity, whose selflessness and giving spirit could see through her, who had put aside her own feelings, her own lingering resentments, her own wants, to reach out and give Sunset the chance she had not earned…who showed her by thought and word and deed that giving her best without expecting anything in return touched and inspired those around her in turn. She was always there for advice, or to lend an ear, and even the smallest request for aid would mean a hundred and ten percent of Rarity’s attention to the task, as if she were incapable of half measures and care little for its detriment to herself. For all her flightiness, there was something grounding in how readily Rarity was there when Sunset needed her, even if she didn’t know what it was she needed her for.

Crazy and chaotic Pinkie Pie, with ability to help her find the silver lining on the worst of days, always ready with a smile or a joke or an observation that lifted Sunset’s soul, no matter how much life weighed it down. Pinkie, who was joy unfettered, and brought with her her own family that, in spite of some of their equally odd quirks,were endlessly supportive in their own ways…whether that was Marble’s slight smiles and soft words, the firm unyielding presence of Maud and their parents, or even Limestone’s sour grimace as she held Sunset to her word to be a better pony. The avalanche of pink that lifted up everyone around her had taught Sunset to look for the little joys in life, and to help others find it…If Rarity and AJ grounded her, then Pinkie was a life preserver in stormy seas, keeping her from being swept away in the tides.

Her thoughts drifted to the most unlikely of her friendships…one that the old her would have scoffed openly about: Fluttershy. The animal lover was practically a spirit of mercy and compassion, who showed by example that balance was possible, that even Sunset could temper her fury with understanding, her frustration with patience. She had forgiven Sunset for not just individual episodes of ugliness but for a long, drawn out, concentrated campaign of abuse and malice designed to wear her down and isolate the shy girl…and then gone beyond forgiveness to reach out and offer succor. In Fluttershy, Sunset had learned not just forgiveness and kindness, but that she could heal and move beyond her scars…that she could learn from the past…and eventually she would be able to free herself from the hurt that past had left behind. Without that, Sunset was not sure she would have been able to let go of enough to form any of the ties that bound her to anyone other than her Twilight and Twilight’s family… In a way, that meant that Fluttershy was responsible for her ability to form friendships and find an emotional anchor in any of her friends. It was a sobering realization.

Then there was Rainbow Dash. Loud, brash, and more than a little obnoxious, Dash had surprised Sunset with her conviction and devotion. Sunset had never lacked in the first herself—even as a filly, her drive to succeed at a task meant she found ways to do so, even against the most frustrating of obstacles or limitations. It was at least half the reason she’d stolen the crown from Princess Twilight, and why she had an entire host of contingency plans as one after another her plans failed. But…loyalty…devotion…reliability in another…that had been something that was in short supply, with far too many other ponies trying to play head games with her until she grew too wary of all of them and just isolated herself. After years and years of pushing everypony away and then years of being a bully, Sunset had…lost…much of her ability to believe any being would actually stick to their word with her…or that she was deserving of anything other than the inevitable sting of betrayal. Rainbow had changed that, when she had stood by Sunset against what felt like the entire school, even getting herself in trouble just to ‘make things right’ when she didn't have to.

And it wasn't just her—Principal Celestia had, perhaps without realizing it, stood up for Sunset in that same dark moment, something the princess…hadn’t. She hadn’t assumed that it was immediately Sunset’s fault, even though given the events of the formal and her sophomore year she would have been well within her right to. Instead, she gave Sunset a chance and held all of the students accountable, not just Sunset. It…was a sobering revelation that maybe Princess Celestia…was not perfect…and made mistakes that had hurt Sunset, even if that wasn't the alicorn’s intention. Seeing her former mentor’s counterpart make different choices, and explain those choices rather than answering with some cryptic riddle…. Knowing that, she decided that maybe what had happened between her and the princess wasn't one hundred percent Sunset Shimmer’s fault. More than that, between Dash and the Principal, they had made her realize she deserved the loyalty of the people she cared about, that cared about her…and that she had every right to expect a bare minimum amount of reciprocity when it came to loyalty. That the former unicorn should be able to count on her emotional anchors not giving way at the slightest hint of trouble.

The principal’s choices paired with Vice Principal Luna turning out to be a person who placed a high value in fairness and justice meant that Sunset had adult authority figures that she not only had come to trust but knew her history in its entirety and still gave her a chance. Miss Luna was honest without being cutting, and she wasn’t afraid to point out mistakes—hers as much as Sunsets or anyone else’s—but she was always fair about it, looking at as many sides of the problem as possible. Some part of Sunset wondered if the Lunar Princess was the same way, and if so, had she not fallen to the Nightmare…would her presence have made things better for a young Sunset Shimmer? It was certainly a possibility, though there was no real way to know. Regardless, the human woman had provided someone who Sunset had come to trust to be truthful and fair with her, while providing an adult perspective someone like Applejack or Rarity lacked…and she had proven just how far she was willing to go to have Sunset’s back. Sunset couldn't think of many beings in Equestria who would willingly follow another into the kind of dark magic soaked area like Crystal Prep, after all—what did it say that some humans were more loyal and steadfast than her own species when it mattered most?

Sunset’s mind continued to mull over the people she had in her life, that tied her to the here and now, to this world. Like Flash—next to Fluttershy, she had wronged him the most out of anyone, had broken his heart and wounded him deeply…and he had not only forgiven her, but forged a friendship with her and kept her secrets. Or Lyra and Bon-Bon, who she wasn't close to, but had shared a measure of mutual respect and trust as they helped in every way they could to make sure that the students and teachers of Canterlot High would be safe during the next inevitable magical showdown that occurred. She was even starting to form something of a professional working relationship with Trixie, of all people, though she wouldn't call that a friendship just yet. Trixie’s ego was still a bit too much for Sunset to handle, even with being friends with Rainbow Dash for months.

All those people, plus Twilight and Twilight’s family…they had bound her more and more to this world without her realizing it…and now that she had, Sunset Shimmer was confronted with another, very sobering fact.

The fact that she had more connecting and binding her to the human world than she had ever possessed in Equestria. Sunset had more of a life here in less than a year…than she had from almost two decades in the world she’d been born to. She still missed her real body, her horn and hooves and the easy use of her considerable magic, and some part of her would always miss her favorite foods…but with every passing day, the part of her that ached for Equestria was being supplanted by the attachments to this world and its inhabitants…

And the most terrifying thing about it was that that thought no longer terrified her.

Aaaand that's a wrap until January, cats and kittens!

So, yeah. We have the return of Glamour and Wildsong, with their own personal drama--some of you may remember the Glamour one-shot (it was going to be a two-shot, but my co-writer and editor wasn't happy with the second chapter, so I might just mark that one complete as is.)

Anyway, Glamour's personal drama has come to a head, with her parents being mostly unpleasant... Her father's name is Lucky Shot, but it should say something that behind his back people call him "Cheap Shot." He's one of those 'rich, entitled men' that believes his children are his to control, especially daughters, and is still bitter that even after divorcing his first wife for someone younger didn't get him a son. He also has, as one can see, some very...outdated attitudes about social strata and certain groups of people.

This chapter also touches on a rather interesting world building conundrum we had: Human racism. In a world where people are born with a rainbow spectrum of skin colors, and those colors are barely genetic at all (look at Twilight and her immediate family, all of them are vastly different tones and hair colors. The apples are the same way), the standard practice of grouping "your group" and "others" by appearance alone is much more difficult in most cases.

However, there we were left with one group whose appearance would have been notably different--people whose Equestrian counterparts are zebras. After some deliberation, we gave them the striped pattern to their skin and hair (people of mixed ancestry, like Wildsong, can have all kinds of combinations of the striped patterns and wide range of skin/hair colors, though the stripes often persist, even faintly in the hair in even those with very distant ancestry.) This gave us the ability to leave in a somewhat ugly and prominent part of world history in the human world, and with it, the lingering prejudices...because unfortunately, as awful a piece of history as it is, the slave trade impacted history for centuries to come on three continents--even today, people are dealing with the vibrations and ripples of the systematic dehumanization and enslavement of vast numbers of people from Africa to provide a cheap labor force for places all over the world hundreds of years ago.

This is also where I, personally, admit that I've never been on the receiving end of the casual prejudice that Lucky Shot portrays towards Wildsong--even if I spent an entire summer sunning myself, I would, at best, be in the same skintone gradient as any other person of considerable Mediterranean heritage. We bronze, but not that much. However, I have been in the ROOM when friends were on the recieving end of this, and had a lovely conversation with a former friend years ago about it, and unfortunately, I have...relatives who are exactly that bigoted. My grandfather, my father...

Anywho.

This is all a roundabout way of acknowledging the reflection of the real world in the human side of things, and perhaps explain Wildsong's reference to what she HAS been called. Since the unpleasant slur that I refuse to write even in explanation evolved out of the way a Southern accent in the US slurred the word Negro, which was, in and of itself, a term that grew from the most basic of descriptions: the spanish word for the color black, I needed something equally insulting to have grown out of the idea that Wildsong has stripes.

This led me into different terms in spanish and italian to indicate stripes. The one I settled on was italian "banda" which, self-explanatory, means striped or banded. Slurring led to "bandy" and I thought there was a bit of double meaning because "bands" can also refer to bindings/restraints (wristbands, hairbands, etc.)

So yeah. Wildsong's words echo a former friend's conversation about the insults she would get sometimes, and which ones she would ignore versus which ones she would get salty about, but words changed to reflect the setting, and the Sparkle family demonstrates the awkward feeling one is left with when you cant really appropriately participate, comment, refute, or repeat something that is said.

And of course Sunset is fairly ignorant because she lacks the cultural osmosis that people born humans get, but she is intelligent enough to pick up on the social cues, and infer....by comparing it to Equestrian slurs. If you couldnt figure out by process of elimination, "ringer" was what we came up with as a slur for unicorns, referring to both the way their horns have seeming "rings" because of the spiral, and also to the idea of "ring toss" -- trying to toss things onto their horns.

Beyond that, we have Sunset hitting a turning point emotionally...realizing that she's become more tied to the humans and their world than she is to the place she came from...brought about by being forced to see that Velvet and Night really do treat her exactly like they do "real" family members. This...was more impactful for her than them telling her. All of her interactions before have been with a sample group size of 1--herself.

This matters because of lore for Rubicon's Equestria that I've hinted at but never come out and said formally. For ponies, the absolute backbones of socio-cultural life is family and the what their cutie mark drives them to do with their lives. It ties into a complex web of how families are large, connected social networks, and how ponies value their special talents more than monetary gain, meaning renown and reputation (both familial and individual) play into social perception. Families aren't just people you see at a reunion for ponies. They are your source of support, of care, of safety, and can even be used to kickstart your own career, in ways that humans just...dont really do. At least not us humans in the western world.

At the end of the day, it means orphans like Sunset are not just rare, they are almost unheard of, because in most cases, they find some family member to take them, even if its a twelfth cousin three times removed, and thus, she has been a permanent outsider to an integral piece of her own culture--and in a way it is the driving force behind her desperate attempts to get the princess to adopt her, and her own painful, consuming need to BELONG somewhere.

Anyway.

Yeah.

So...that's a wrap until January, as I take my December off to do my birthday, the Solstice, Christmas, and New Years in rapid succession. While this year will be much less hellish than years past (its just me, my spouse, and my mom this year), we've got to do some game planning, since events have made it clear that Mom is not going to make it to June to retire. She's going to have to retire early (she's looking at March) for her own health.

In the meantime, Happy Holidays a bit early, and I hope you all have a good time with whatever you celebrate--or just enjoy as a day off from work/school/etc. We'll be back in the first week of January to our normal posting schedule!

Hugs and Cocoa,
The Rubicon Team