Twilight carefully places her well-worn bookmark as the train comes to a trundling halt. She’s not exactly sure why Rarity insisted on taking the commuter instead of just teleporting; they could have been getting to the bottom of this cutie map problem hours ago!

“You’ve been staring out that window the entire time,” Twilight observes. It comes out more ornery than she means. She much prefers the view one gets from free-flying outside, and her wings itch with restless energy. The cost of being cooped up, she supposes, and finds Rainbow Dash’s habit of hovering everywhere oddly alluring. Though she doesn’t want to draw too much attention to herself, and she wonders if Rarity would view her the same way that she used to see Rainbow Dash: a bit of a showboat around those hapless grounded ponies.

Rarity, wide-eyed face firmly pressed against the thick glass, fails to budge.

“Rarity,” Twilight gripes with a roll of her eyes, “you can stop looking at everything like that. You’ve been here before; it’s just Canterlot.” Not that the lacquered gold and alabaster of the capital city looks bad, if too ostentatious for her liking.

“Sorry,” Rarity says, then immediately corrects herself with a swift shake of her head. “No, I’m not sorry. This is Canterlot! The capital of Equestria! The pinnacle of couture, the apex of fashion! Everything looks so amazing, from the highest spire to the garden mazes to the niche boutiques!” She peels away to grace Twilight with her most ingratiating grin. “Darling, you’ll have to show me around!”

“Darling?” Twilight’s muzzle scrunches up. “You only use ‘darling’ when you’re trying to get something.”

“That’s not true,” Rarity objects, turning back to stare out the window. The other ponies have disembarked, leaving them alone. “I call Doug darling all the time.”

Twilight snorts. “I stand corrected. Besides, you must have me confused with a different Princess. I wouldn’t know the streets of Canterlot from the back of my mane.”

Rarity regards Twilight’s mane with a volatile mixture of disdain and well-meant advice, much like the shampoos she’s always trying to get her to use. “I keep telling you, you should join me at Aloe’s. Ooh, do you think the royal spa is available?”

Twilight pulls out their planned schedule. Each fifteen minute block has been filled in, leaving precious little time for extraneous activities. Her dam works late, and her sire often sleeps during the day so he can be fully awake at night, so it just makes sense to see Rarity’s parents first. She pretends not to notice how her herdmate’s face falls. “I’m not sure; I’d have to check with the Princesses.”

“Oh, pshaw, darling. You’re a Princess!” Rarity suddenly grins, far too ebullient. “Just walk up there, and I’m sure we could luxuriate for hours!”

“Rarity,” Twilight lectures, “the map called us here for a reason.”

Rarity sighs, but concedes with a heavy nod. “Yes, yes, of course.”

The two exit into the busy station, luggage levitating behind them. Rarity stops, glancing backward at the train. “I was curious, though, about the history of the rails. Did they always take such a tortuous track up the mountain?”

Trivia surges into Twilight’s head, demanding to be shared with somepony, anypony who would listen. Especially somepony who just used ‘tortuous’ correctly. “The trains used to be slower,” she explains, breaking away from the crowds heading inside the mountain. She heads to the edge, feeling a tingle as she trips a sensor that corresponds with two pegasi glancing up from their perches. They quickly go back to scanning the cloudless skies, watching the airships come and go from the nearby sky docks.

Access to the open air is a premium in Canterlot, and the cavernous train station is no exception. Much of the excess rock has been chiseled away, leaving periodic reinforced pillars that would block an airship from entering but allow pegasi to slip between. Their little alcove is out of the way, though the view it offers is spectacular. Untouched land stretches for miles and miles to the south, forests and rivers and occasional hills that gradually turn into the deserts of Appleloosa and the rocky and foreboding backdrop of the Macintosh Hills. She looks down, and down, the nearly mile-long drop down the steep slope only marginally less dizzying now that she has wings. She has to lean over the ornate railing and crane her neck to see Ponyville, her school but a speck of color among the vibrant shops and houses. She can easily understand why the other Princesses live here, though she can’t see herself leaving Ponyville any time soon.

“In fact,” Twilight explains to the hesitant unicorn behind her, “there are three other tracks one can use to ascend or descend Mount Canterhorn on the outside.” Her horn lights up, an image of the mountain appearing with the tracks lit up in gold. “One pair operates on a funicular system, with pulleys and waypoints that allow one to traverse the height with minimal energy expenditure. But energy conservation is less of an issue because of the interior lifts, so those tracks serve as a backup, or in case maintenance needs to be done.” She leans over the railing to point at the tracks with their distinctive cables.

Rarity approaches the edge with far more trepidation, only stretching her neck out long enough to catch a glimpse before retreating. “And which course do you think has the best view?”

Twilight chuckles. “They all go up the same mountain with minimal tunnel usage. In fact, most of what used to be interior tunnels has been shifted to exterior tracks, as the price of dwellings that border the outside has increased by…”

Twilight trails off, her eyes widening at the realization. She whirls upon her herdmate. “You’re using my love of trains to derail us!”

Rarity sheepishly rubs at the back of her head. “Err, of course not, darling.”

“We need to get back on track.” Twilight sticks her nose in the air. “Now, given that the others went to places where their parents live, I think it only logical to start there.”

“Yes,” Rarity agrees as she stares at the ground, rubbing one foreleg against the other. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

While Twilight would never have considered herself the most in tune with somepony else’s emotions, it’s obvious even to her that something is wrong. “Hey,” she says, drawing close to Rarity and offering what she hopes is a comforting wing around her side. She glances down at her schedule, then puts the paper away. It pains her to deviate, but Friends come first. “You okay?”

It takes Rarity a moment to respond. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen my parents,” she forces out, almost at a whimper. “And, we didn’t exactly leave on the best of terms. So…”

Twilight grimaces. She didn’t realize it was so bad. None of them really talk about their parents, but she assumed their relationships were all at least cordial. “Do you want us to see my parents first?”

Rarity nods just the slightest amount.

“Alright. I can understand that.” Twilight straightens up, focusing on one of the upper plazas that juts out from the mountain. With an easy surge of power and a raspberry flash she teleports; another blink takes them to Luna’s balcony, then to just outside her parents’ villa.

“Whew,” Rarity exclaims, unsteady on her hooves. “Just, give me a moment.” One eye struggles to focus on Twilight, the other behind a closed eyelid. “Three group teleports in a row? I must say, you have taken to pregnancy better than any mare I know. With twins, no less! While over here I can barely weave three spells together without feeling exhausted.”

“Oh. Really?” Twilight rubs a hoof self-consciously; she doesn’t mean to make her Friend feel bad, or to show off! “It must be my alicorn powers. I’ve noticed a slight drop in efficiency, but trifling compared to what most mares report.”

“I know,” Rarity reassures between deep breaths, “you do not mean to brag. But the power you so casually throw around…” She shakes the doldrums from her head, then looks up at the tall double doors. “Very nice place your parents have.”

Twilight never thought about it before, but now that Rarity mentions it she has to concede the villa is very nice. Lavish, even, though not quite as conspicuous and gaudy as many of the mansions that dot Upper Canterlot. Tall windows frame the front and sides, with pink curtains half drawn against the noon sun. Lavender bushes climb the sides, their planters situated under windows and above doors, with purple blossoms contrasting the muted gold and alabaster. They trot along the crescent path, white and black stones making a mosaic of the mare in the moon, and admire the blue-flowering gardens on each side.

The front door swings open easily, Twilight not bothering to knock. The parlor has a lounge couch for two opposite a rarely-used fireplace, decorations of historic battles, a set of crossed swords (not to be touched! even with magic!) and a suit of plated barding, complete with helmet. A brief check of her thaumic sight shows every object (including the carpet) to be enchanted, ranging from simple softness and self-cleaning on the couch to automated dancing on the swords, triggered by a command word. Perks of Princess Celestia’s employment, she supposes, though she wishes the defensive layers surrounding the house weren’t necessary.

A dark blue curl of a mane pokes out from the kitchen, the rest of Night Light quickly following. “Hey, Twily!” her sire greets with a whisper, levitating off the ‘World’s Best Sire’ apron she and Shiny got him a few years back. He tiptoes over the carpet to greet her with a firm hug. He turns to Rarity, offering her a nod, smile, and similar firm hug, clearing her for access deeper into the house. “Rarity, good to see you; you’re both looking well. Cadance is in the other room,” he says, explaining the whisper, “and she’s a bit…”

“Nighty?” comes a call from the kitchen, swiftly followed by unsteady hoofsteps on the tile. “Who’s there? Is it…”

Twilight has to do a double take when Cadance comes around the corner. She looks like she did after spending a week Chrysalis’ captivity, haggard and unkempt with bags under her eyes and a disheveled messiness to her mane. At least she smells better, and has a fullness to her barrel that complements her otherwise slender figure.

Cadance’s eyes brighten as she spots Twilight, though her approaching steps are lethargic and unsure. “Sunshine, sunshine, ladybugs awake!”

Twilight returns the song and dance with a vigor that seems to inspire her fellow Princess. “Clap your hooves and do a little shake!”

The two bump rumps, devolving into giggles as their foalhood dance completes. “What are you doing here?” Twilight asks, hopping onto the couch as her sire leaves to grab a platter of snacks. With a bluntness she somewhat regrets, she appends, “And, um, how are you doing?”

“Oh, this?” Cadance says, brushing her mangy mane back with an embarrassment Twilight normally doesn’t see on the Princess.

“Heavens,” Rarity exclaims, leery of getting her hooves close, as though it might contaminate her. “Don’t take me wrong, but to borrow a leaf from Applejack’s tree? You look terrible. Like a robbing rat Opal dragged in.”

Cadance merely nods along. “I feel like I’ve eaten something that disagrees with me, but I’m afraid it’s this hungry little girl.”

Twilight’s brow furrows as Cadance taps at her belly, her eyes shining white. As far as she can tell everything looks healthy, if perhaps parched, a pony close to the end of her reserves. The sort of sight you might find after a long session of rigorous practice.

“I haven’t noticed any difference from my first time,” Rarity ventures, either unable to clear the frown from her muzzle or unaware it is there. Twilight suspects the latter. “Some shortness, but never so much as to cause overt distress.”

“I’m definitely sensing an increased draw,” Twilight says, dropping her mage-sight to better focus on Cadance’s reaction. “More than the two of mine combined.”

Cadance sighs, joining Twilight on the couch. In fact, she gets far closer to Twilight than normal, snuggling like a mare would with her stallion. Twilight lifts her wing, hoping the closeness helps; it seems to, but not by much. “She’s certainly a hungry baby,” she says, “and I’ve been putting in extra hours at the Crystal Empire. But… I… oh, dear.”

“Hey,” Twilight says, joking and at the same time quite serious, “I helped get you into this mess. You can tell me anything.”

Cadance snickers, though the glee is short-lived. “It is somewhat… personal.”

Twilight fixes her with a steely glare. “More personal than watching my brother ejaculate inside you, then having to study his sperm closely enough to time when they would reach your egg?”

Night Light, who was about to walk into the room, does an abrupt one-eighty back into the kitchen while whistling tunelessly. Rarity snags the plate of snacks in his aura; the three mares eagerly partake, Cadance especially glad for something to stuff in her mouth.

“It is about Shining Armor,” Cadance explains after she finishes her cucumber and mayonnaise sandwich, leaving the more exotic cheeses and crackers for the others, though Rarity contests the other pieces of the unicorn’s favorite meal. “I know he still loves me,” she quickly appends at their shocked reaction, though it does little to mollify their distress. “He sees me every chance he gets. And he’s doing it for the baby’s sake.”

“But?” Twilight Sparkle and Rarity demand simultaneously.

Cadance buries her head in Twilight’s side. “But what is the Princess of Love if she can’t get any?”

Next Chapter: Ch. 172 - Spirit Guards, Part Two Estimated time remaining: 4 Hours, 56 Minutes