The words are spelled properly, but there's just something about them that makes Cheerilee unable to divorce them from the thick country accent of their author.

My essay about the history of Apple family history,

by,

Apple Bloom

Cheerilee rolls her eyes and makes a quick motion with her head to correct the punctuation and the excess 'history'. It was strange how somepony could speak perfectly plain Equestrian, but put a quill in their teeth and suddenly they had all the eloquence of a manticore.

For example: something about that filly would just never get the hang of... titling, and this was a painfully obvious example. The Apples actually had a family name, for one thing; she should count herself lucky.

And it had so much potential! The Roots of the Apple Tree. Our Apple Orchard. Apples from Ambrosia to...

To...

"Twi, honey?"

Twilight looks up from the smelly, ancient tome she's been poring over and glances across the table over her reading glasses. "Hmmm?"

Cheerilee chuckles weakly. "Well, now I feel silly for asking, but do you know of any apples whose name begin with Z?"

"Pony Apple or eating apple?"

"Either, in this case."

Twilight purses her lips and rolls her eyes upwards, almost parodically thoughtful. "Now that you mention it, no, I can't. I could look it up for you, if you like – I think I have a copy of Morningdew's Complete Flowering Trees and Shrubs of South-Western Equestria around here somewhere..."

Cheerille laughs brightly. "No! No, don't worry about it. It's not important."

"Why do you ask, then?"

"No reason." Cheerilee looks back down at the essay and feels her face fall into a glum expression. "Just attempting the impossible."

"Oh?"

"Trying to teach Apple Bloom to be a poet," Cheerilee says, grinning humorlessly at '...and once upon a time I guess we were wandering seed merchants? I dont know what that means relly but theres a broken cart behind the barn that the pigs sleeped in and it says APPLE SEEDS on.'

Twilight looks at her incredulously for a moment, then looks down at her notes and taps them. "I just wrote the sentence 'The aetheric transduction is governed across six principal vectors and two vertice interactions', in all seriousness. So... why do I suddenly think you have the harder job, between us?"

Because my job involves being dragged through bad old memories?

She barely has to read the essay, after all. She knows the Apple family history; Granny Smith had happily rambled it out for her several times. After all, as Granny had said, if she was going to marry young Macintosh someday, she would need to know where the in-laws came from.

"We could use a few more good Apples around here," Granny says, winking. Cheerilee smiles, her heart only slightly troubled by the implication...

Cheerilee rubs her temple. "I shouldn't be so... mmm. I'm always saying things like that about her. It's uncharitable of me."

"You've known Apple Bloom since she was a newborn. I'd be shocked if you weren't a little... you know, watching out for her a bit." Twilight gives her an encouraging smile. "They're not exactly an academic household. Not that that's, uh, bad, just... they aren't."

Cheerilee huffs a little laugh. "No. No they are not."

"And it's not like she doesn't call it on herself all the time," Twilight continues, waving a hoof. They both know quite well she's slightly forcing her cheerful, joking tone for Cheerilee's benefit, but that's fine. "Every time somepony tells me that Ponyville used to be so quiet before I showed up, I want to say: Excuse me? You're blaming me? Do you live in some universe where Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle, and Apple Bloom have their cutie marks already? Because if you do, where do I sign up?"

They both laugh at this. Spike, snoozing in a basket in the corner of the library floor, gives out a audible "heh" and rolls over.

"Still, though," Cheerilee says, frowning as she continues to scan the essay. "With all the trouble Mac's getting into with your friends –"

"Our friends," Twilight corrects, in very definite tones.

Cheerilee smiles indulgently. In truth, she only really knows Rarity well of Twilight's friends – well, she knows Applejack, too, but that was a relationship best described as 'polite', because 'strained' made it sound worse than it really was. Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie... not so well.

Whether it was possible to know Pinkie Pie well was a reasonable question, of course, but...

Anyways.

"Sorry, dear. With our friends." Her smile fades. " With all that going on... I guess..."

Twilight pulls off her glasses and hastens over to her beloved's side, wrapping a hoof around her shoulders gently. "Hey, hey..."

Cheerilee positions herself more fully into the embrace. "I'm sorry, it's just digging up old bones. And old pottery. And some statues that nopony understands, but if you put them on your head, they turn your mane green..."

"That actually happened once, you know," Twilight says, seriously.

"I do know," Cheerilee replies, and kisses her gently on the nose.

Twilight giggles, always delighted to not be the only one who's heard of strange things in strange places.

She isn't the only one who's read a book or two in her time, now is she?

Cheerilee looks up and around the library, taking it all in for the hundredth time. It has changed so many times over her life that it sometimes did to make sure she was still in the same place.

The shelves. The decorations. The little personal touches like the pictures on the wall of Twilight and her friends. The stairs to the second floor. The little lectern and writing desk, which was currently occupied by Twilight's slumbering pet owl.

Twenty years ago, as a filly, this had been where she went to find new places and new worlds between the covers of a good book. Ten years ago, as a young mare, it had been where she pursued her dreams, which lay at the University in distant Canterlot.

Dreams which had gotten... complicated, what with one thing and another.

Still, despite everything she had found her way back here and now this wonderful place is her home, in every way. Somepony had already started moving into her rental unit down the road, and she fully intends to warn them about the way you had to buck the radiator to make it work in the winter when she had a free moment.

Upstairs, her grandmother's bed had replaced the slim, ancient slab that Twilight had somehow endured since she moved here. A second nightstand stood on the opposite side of Twilight's. A private bookshelf occupied the space under a window.

Home. Hers.

But even how wonderful these last two weeks have been hadn't stopped her... thinking.

Remembering that feeling of being completely helpless, and somepony out of Twilight's past just wandering in, fixing everything with the ring of a bell, and flying off suggesting they pretend it never happened. Like it wasn't important.

And that pony was the princess!

Come on!

And of course Twilight's on-and-off obliviousness had taken this opportunity to be firmly off. Cheerilee almost wished she could have just let this dark cloud pass her by without Twilight noticing, but then she wouldn't have gotten all those extra snuggles.

Twilight presses her muzzle against Cheerilee's neck, giving her a long, slow kiss before pulling away again. "Is that what's been been bothering you? All that stuff going on with Macintosh?"

Cheerilee's eyes flicker, momentarily, to the stack of books where Twilight had been working on her presentation for the convention of the Equestrian Society of Invokers and Associated Magical Practitioners in Manehattan next month.

She nods. "Mmm." Not quite yes, but that's part of the whole truth, so...

Twilight raises a hoof to her chin and draws Cheerilee's gaze to her own gently. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"You've heard it all already, Twi. Just an old scar being sore."

Twilight clicks her tongue and hums sympathy as she leans forward and pecks Cheerilee's cheek. "I'm sorry. I can ask everypony to keep you out of it if you want –"

"No! No, no. I'm... I think I need to be there for anypony who needs me," Cheerilee says, quickly. A moment of pain makes her close her eyes. "I... flatter myself to believe I was important in his life, once. He certainly was important for me. If somepony needs my... help, I don't know... I should be there."

She is relieved – grateful – that Twilight doesn't say anything, just reaches out and gently holds one of Cheerilee's hooves in her own for a few heartbeats.

They've been here before, and will be here again.

"Heavens, sorry," Cheerilee says, quietly, opening her eyes again. "It's just been getting to me."

Twilight is strangely still. Her expression is sympathetic, but her eyes are alert, watching Cheerilee's carefully.

She's hard to fool, sometimes.

My clever, genius Twilight. Oh, how I love you. Oh, how you torture me...

"There's something else," Twilight whispers, her eyes trailing away to the books before snapping back. "Isn't there, Cheerilee."

It's not a question; it's a statement which strikes as very parental. Disappointed, not accusatory.

In memory, beautiful, perfect lips form words that have felt like shackles for weeks.

I feel this situation is best left behind us, Cheerilee.

"Yes," Cheerilee responds in an equal hush.

They hold the pose for a moment, Twilight squeezing Cheerilee's hoof.

"Spike!" Twilight barks, suddenly, more for the volume than the tone.

"Wha – huh!?" the dragon mutters, spasming awkwardly in his basket until he is something resembling upright. "Uh, yeah? What's up?"

"Give us a minute, would you?"

The dragon slithers upright. "Yeah, sure. Like, 'down in my room' give you a minute, or –"

Cheerilee clears her throat. "Why don't you see if the Cutie Mark Crusaders are doing something interesting, Spike? They've been spending a lot of time whispering to each other lately."

Never good. Heavens above, am I neck-deep and sinking in troubles...

Spike grins. "Sure. Think they're at the treehouse?"

"I would assume so," Cheerilee says, eyes locked on Twilight's. They're beautiful and terrible, all at once.

They turn, as one pony, to watch Spike eagerly hustle off. The door slams behind him in his eagerness, any hint he understood what he was being asked lost in his happiness to find his friends.

Cheerilee stares at the door, chewing her lip unhappily.

"And now, I think," Twilight murmurs, "now you're going to tell me how you knew to do something I'm almost certain you couldn't have known about."

Cheerilee's heart freezes. She briefly considers lying, or expressing ignorance...

No. Not to her. Not to Twilight. Not ever.

Princess... did you know what you were doing to me?

Twilight sighs heavily before she wrangles herself into place, interrupting her thoughts. "You need to understand... I know what happened. I know what happened to me, and why. After all... I asked for it," the unicorn says, letting Cheerilee's hoof go. "I lost control, once, and... it scared me."

"Twilight, I –"

"Let me finish," Twilight says, raising a hoof to stop Cheerilee. "Please. I... need to get this out."

Cheerilee hangs her head. "Okay."

"I'm not proud of the trigger, Cheerilee. The princess is very nice, and never talks about it like this, but... it's like rubber sheets, for foals who have... problems," Twilight says, pain biting hard in her tone as she looks away from Cheerilee uncomfortably.

Immediately, Cheerilee moves to embrace her, but Twilight shrugs her off.

It hurts. It really hurts.

Silence reigns in the library for a while, contrasting heavily with the cheerful light of late evening spilling in through the windows. Not for the first time in her life, Cheerilee scrambles for something to say, something neat and perfect that will comfort and apologize and just fix things, all at once.

In her memory, Mac sends her away. Twilight grows distant and strange. College friends who've seen her be too wild, too lost in the moment, walk away...

For someone who loves words, Cheerilee's spent her fair share of time unable to find any good ones.

Her rumination is interrupted by Twilight hissing out a breath, forcing herself to speak again.

"I always have a headache afterwards. It's very... distinctive, you know? It hurts right in the back of my head, which is pretty unusual. So I can always tell." Twilight looks up at Cheerilee. "I know I should have told you, but... it's embarrassing. I thought – no, that's not right. I wanted to believe it wouldn't be a problem. I wanted you... I wanted you to think I was better than that. In control. Not like a little foal who can't keep her horn in line. It hasn't happened in years, not since I was in Canterlot."

Oh, heavens above and earth below, preserve your daughter in her time of need...

Cheerilee fights down a whimper of humiliation. "Twilight, I... you're so... it was my fault, I –"

Twilight raises a hoof to Cheerilee's chest, her breathing labored by hurt. "There were three possibilities," she says, closing her eyes, audibly taking refuge in logical extrapolation. "First, that you somehow figured out that the bell was important, but that's a stretch. I never told you, and somewhat by design there's no reason to suspect it's anything important. Second, that Spike had told you – or that you had completely lost your mind and dragged him into our bedroom." She opens her eyes and locks them on Cheerilee's, expression serious. "Ours. I'm not mad, I just... want to talk."

"Okay," Cheerilee says, weakly.

"So... Spike. Based on how he reacted when I asked him about it, I doubt he was the one who told you about my... problem, but if he's good at keeping things quiet I'll eat my own horn. He knew something, but didn't want to tell me, which meant somepony important had told him not to tell," Twilight continues. Her voice catches in her throat, and she looks away again for a moment. "And my parents and brother were too far away, in Canterlot, to be here and gone before the night was over. There's only one pony who could have told you on the very same night I... I..." She trails off, miserably. "When it happened."

There is no meaningful response. Cheerilee lets a pained whine emerge from her lips, hating herself for her weakness but unable to imagine anything better to say.

Twilight looks up, her eyes filled with pain. "I... I trusted that you had a reason for not telling me," she whispers. "And I've let you keep it to yourself. But I think I'd like to hear about this from you. I'm not mad, I'm really not. You don't even have to say who was here if you don't want to; just tell me why you want to keep it to yourself. That's all I want."

Stop it. Stop breaking yourself just to seem wise and reasonable, my love. Hurt at me; it's better than pretending you're not terrified.

"Oh, Twilight, don't do that to me," Cheerilee moans. "Of course she was here..."

She.

They don't even have to refer to her by name – that's how this is. Twilight's wound herself up about the meeting that there's only need for one dreadful syllable. She. Her. The Princess.

Twilight shudders. Visibly shudders, as if something awful had happened in front of her. "Of course she was," she says, chuckling humorlessly. "How did you get in touch with her?"

"I –" Cheerilee begins, but then she realizes what she's done and claps a hoof over her mouth, muffling her voice. "Oh, Twilight. Oh, I'm so sorry. I was so scared..."

"What?"

"I panicked. I sent Spike for Rarity, because I didn't know if it was just a unicorn thing. She saw you. She didn't know exactly what had happened, but she knew it was something about your magic. I'm so sorry."

Twilight's sudden grimace of embarrassment is too much. Cheerilee looks away, guts churning.

Ignorant, stupid, foolish mare... !

"I suppose I'll have to talk to her about it, then," Twilight says, reluctance dripping off every word. "Just so that she knows it's something she doesn't need to mention in passing."

"Oh, heavens, Twilight, I'm... I'm so sorry."

Twilight shuts her eyes and takes a couple deep breaths in the way Cheerilee knows to mean she's grasping her emotions firmly and picking her words with care. "Don't be. I brought it on myself. You did the right thing..." she trails off, bringing a hoof to her head and making a stressed little noise in the back of her throat. "Oh, this is so messed up."

Cheerilee slumps in her seat and stares down at Apple Bloom's essay, more for something to do with her eyes than anything else.

My big Brother Macintosh has, taken care of me since I was little

She sets it aside, resisting the urge crush it into a ball and throw it away. It needs to be handed back with corrections, after all.

Maybe someday she'd get the hang of relationships. If she was really, really lucky, it would be at least an hour or two before she died so at least her last moments could be spent spared these sorts of problems.

She is surprised to feel a warm weight lean onto her gently, and looks down at the head on her shoulder. Twilight is staring off into the distance, looking harassed and anxious.

This time, she doesn't shrug off Cheerilee's tentative embrace, and that in itself is a small measure of salvation.

"Why didn't you tell me she was here, Cheerilee?" Twilight whispers.

Because I was scared. Humiliated.

Because it made you feel millions of miles away from me again, for just a second.

Because...

I don't think she likes me, and I don't even want to know what you would do if I even hinted I'd messed things up with her that badly. I don't even know why I think it.

But of the truths, Cheerilee chooses the smallest. The one that seems easiest to deal with.

"Because she asked me not to," Cheerilee murmurs.

Twilight sits bolt upright, struggling against Cheerilee's embrace. "What? No. No, no, no. She wouldn't. She always –"

And then she stops, holding Cheerilee's gaze.

The denial was reflexive, instinctual, as if Cheerilee had said in perfect sobriety that Ponyville was better off when Discord had turned it into a mind-bending riot of nonsense physics and dairy-based weather. If almost anypony else had said this to Twilight, it was perfectly clear from her tone that she flat-out wouldn't have believed them.

Twilight's jaw drops slightly as her brow furrows. "You're... you're not... you're serious, aren't you."

"Absolutely," Cheerilee says. "I think she was embarassed, to tell you the truth."

"Embarrassed? By – by the, er, situation?" Twilight asks, blushing despite her serious tone.

Cheerilee is momentarily amused by the stark contrast between Twilight at rest and the almost predatory creature she sometimes finds in her bed, but she tries not to show it. "Wouldn't you be?"

"Well, yes, but I'm not her," Twilight says, giving Cheerilee a slightly more patronizing look than she probably meant to. "Cheerilee. Honey. We're talking about a pony who sat down and peacefully listened to me confess everything I did when I was... you know, learning. About love, and, er, related activities. I mean, some of that was with her sister."

"I'm just saying, she... she said that it wasn't..." Cheerilee frowns. "She just wanted to be gone, I think. She said it was a bad situation, that we should forget about it and meet each other 'for the first time' in better circumstances."

Twilight says nothing, merely looking anxious for a moment.

"What is it?"

"The first time she really got to know the girls – I mean, really got to know them – we had just crashed the Grand Galloping Gala, trashed the Great Hall, the grounds, and the state room of the palace, and personally attacked a bunch of really important ponies," Twilight says, softly.

"I remember that," Cheerilee murmurs.

"She found us out in the town; I thought she'd be furious, or at least have some serious talking to do. But instead she sat down and spent an hour or so laughing with us about how horrible everypony at the Gala was before setting us up in a suite at the Sun and Moon. At like three AM."

She just showed up for Twilight, Cheerilee's mind reminds her. She laughed with them into the red eye of the morning...

"I only found out later how much work she went through afterward because of the trouble we'd caused; it must have been a huge headache for her. But right then, in that moment, she came and checked on us. Made sure we weren't scared or upset. That's how she is, Cheerilee. I can't imagine her telling anypony to just... forget something, because it's awkward. Shes laughs, or comforts, even when she's angry – believe me." Twilight says, sternly.

Cheerilee can't decide if the conflicted look in Twilight's eyes, as she wars between her trust in her new love and her absolute confidence in the Princess, is frightening or deeply touching.

Ah, but there was one more little fire to stamp out.

"We were worried about how you'd react, too," she says.

Twilight closes her eyes and sighs heavily through her nose. "You mean you were worried about –"

"No, Twilight, we," Cheerilee says, desperate for Twilight to believe her.

The truth was that while she was sometimes wary of how unbelievably unshakable Twilight's affection for her mentor was – quite often, recently – her reluctance to just accept that Cheerilee was telling the straight truth in this moment had long passed that and was starting to border on extremely hurtful.

"Cheerilee, if she was worried about how I'd react, she would have stayed here until I woke up!" Twilight almost shouts. "She would have stayed with you, and talked about what you should say, and when I got up she would have just... been there. It wouldn't have been the first time, believe me. It's just how she is!"

"I didn't mean –"

"You don't understand," Twilight moans. She pulls away from Cheerilee, her face pained. "She's always... there. She doesn't just leave and she never, ever hides things from me." Twilight looks up into Cheerilee's eyes, and the elder mare gasps at how confused and hurt Twilight is. "I want to believe you, Cheerilee, but what you're saying just doesn't make any sense. It's not like her at all."

Cheerilee... stops.

She can feel the pulse of this conversation. She can almost see Twilight's powerful mind starting to turn inwards on itself, trapped between her love and faith in Cheerilee and... whatever she felt about Celestia. Adoration, borderline worship, it seemed sometimes. Trusting to the point that it sometimes seemed irrational...

Except that it seemed like her faith was always, always rewarded.

She just... showed up for Twilight.

Now wasn't that strange. Nopony else could expect that kind of divine intervention.

Hmm.

That wasn't important right now, though. Right now her beloved Twilight was in pain, and needed to calm down before she got a little out of control.

But then, Cheerilee was very good at dealing with this. Usually she had twenty wayward little ponies to wrangle, all at once, and some of them didn't even like her all that much.

But I'll buck every field in Sweet Apple Acres myself if they don't damn well listen anyways. It's all about knowing what approach to use...

Cheerilee forces a smile, and sighs in a way that suggests weary resignation. "You know what, honey? I think you're right."

Twilight looks up, sharply. "What?"

"I think... you know what I think?" Cheerilee says, in a very carefully controlled voice. "I think that the princess was trying to be respectful of me."

Twilight scoots back closer to Cheerilee with a curious expression on her face, and sniffles. "Huh?"

"I was so embarrassed, Twilight, and I was so scared for you... I bet it was written on my face in big letters. She was just trying to spare me any more stress, is all. And I was... you know, I was saying how I was so upset that I couldn't take care of you myself..."

A bit of a fib, yes, but those words hadn't been expressed openly mostly because her mouth had been too full of her own hooves.

Twilight reaches out and puts her forehooves on Cheerilee's. "Oh, Cheerilee... oh, I'm so sorry. I've only been thinking of myself..."

"Hey, now. You had a lot of really good reasons to, honey," Cheerilee says, reaching up to pull Twilight into a tight hug. "You know, in a way, maybe the princess was trying to give me some space, you know? After all, you've... never had somepony with you before..."

"Hmm?" Twilight humms, pulling back to give Cheerilee a pointed look.

"Oh, nothing."

Damn your beautiful brain! Stop noticing things when it's inconvenient!

"You know, if you were that upset... she'd probably want to talk..." Twilight says, trying to seem suspicious despite Cheerilee knowing very well that she was almost beside herself with relief and just wanted to hug and let her worry pass.

Cheerilee leans forward and kisses Twilight on the forehead, letting her nose brush up against Twilight's horn very slightly so that the unicorn shivered a happy little shiver in her arms.

Twilight's not the only one with moves.

"Oh, I think she's being very generous with me. You know? Giving me a second chance at a first impression – after all, I didn't have much choice this time. I needed her to show up, even though I was so embarrassed I made a complete foal of myself." She kisses Twilight again, and revels in the little humm of happiness she gives off. "As you figured out, clever girl."

"Mmm. Maybe. It's still a little weird, though."

Don't think I'll forget it, my love...

Cheerilee gently motions for Twilight to roll around so that she is laying against Cheerilee's chest, the elder mare wrapping her arms around Twilight and nuzzling her neck from behind. They sit like this for a good long while, just enjoying the feeling of each other's body.

She was going to have to meet Celestia again. There was no way that she could be a part of Twilight Sparkle's life without being necessarily involved with the Princess.

But there was something going on; Cheerilee could feel it lingering on the edges of events, deforming them. An eminence gris that was far more than an excuse to explain away the plot of a spy thriller novel with a lot of exposition right at the end. Something more than she, and probably even Twilight understood.

For now.

This conversation had gone in a very different direction than she'd thought it would. She had expected to be apologizing for insulting the princess and being unable to follow through on her gentle suggestion that Cheerilee keep things to herself, not...

That's just not like her!

Twilight had almost screamed it, as if it was unthinkable.

Some ponies made the mistake of thinking that things said in distress were somehow less true or rational than those made in sobriety, when the speaker had a clear mind capable of obscuring matters with politenesses and caution. A stressed mind is focused, in a way, although not necessarily on the thing truly at the root of the stress. The deeper hurt had to be teased out sometimes. Working with foals had ground this wisdom into Cheerilee deep, until it was written on the bone.

"Zap Apples," Twilight says, interrupting Cheerilee's musing.

Cheerilee stirs, looking down at the unicorn, who's still staring off into the distance at nothing in particular. "What?"

"Apples that start with Z. Zap Apples. I can't believe I forgot; they're Ponyville's own special crop..."

Cheerilee just squeezes Twilight and smiles gently.

The quill dances in the air momentarily as Celestia considers her reply.

She does consider it – and she has always felt that doing so was important. Just dismissing this sort of thing, disregarding the thought and emotion that was put into it... unconscionable. Even if she more often than not said more or less the same thing, each time she was composing a unique message. It may the thousandth upon thousandth time for her, but it was generally the first time for each sender.

The desk and table next to her writing lectern are laden with this week's correspondence. Laden – yes, that was the right word. Laden like a cart set to market, or on a pioneering train to Appleloosa in the west, its timbers creaking under the entirety of a family's worldly possessions.

Being a princess was not for the faint-hearted. That much was beyond doubt at this point.

Usually, she picked away at the pile slowly over the week, turning the slurry into something like a reasonable day-to-day pace, enjoying a routine of sorting, considering, and replying in whatever order suited her at the moment. But for whatever reason, today the bags left at her study door had seemed very pressing. She'd been at it all day – and frankly, right this very second she was enjoying this mild break from state business. It was, in its own gentle way, much more important in any case.

"Ah," she murmurs, and smiles faintly.

While I am honored by your invitation, Dinky Doo, I'm afraid that I will be unable to attend your tea party next Wednesday. I sincerely hope my absence will not be too troublesome for you, so as a small measure of apology I have included a measure of my own favorite mint tea that should serve you and your guests a pot or two. I hope you enjoy it.

Yours respectfully,

Princess Celes

She's being watched.

A twitch of an ear is the only immediate, instinctive reaction – and even that is an immense show for Celestia, and she curses the distress it betrays, the loss of control and slip of composure. It's just been so long since there was anypony hanging around powerful enough to take her by surprise...

Unbidden, her mind remembers the last time somepony even tried. A little purple filly, who'd gotten her hooves on a book slightly more advanced than she was ready for... but she did so want to be seen to be pushing herself...

Celestia pauses her writing and raises her head from the parchment on her writing desk, not turning to face the slight distortion in the world suggesting the astral presence of the Princess of the Moon. "Is there something you wanted?"

Unsaid, but apparent in her voice: How long have you been there? Why are you here? Why give yourself away now?

What are you scheming, Luna of the Moon... ?

But Luna doesn't bother acknowledging the rare show of mild irritation, and the hollow, ethereal voice of her projected self is heavy with amusement. "Are you often invited to such... lauded events?"

It's not even contempt, and that's what annoys Celestia.

Not for the first time, the phrase catlike pokes at her mind – if it's not food or something to toy with, it's outside Luna's immediate universe and thus uninteresting, but she might deign to acknowledge its existence, in a show of supreme generosity, if it was occupying the attention of somepony she wanted to talk to at the moment.

Once, Luna would have delighted in the innocence and earnestness of the foal's request. Perhaps even attended, on a whim, and playfully taken the whole affair dreadfully seriously. But now she's so... col–

No.

Not cold.

Celestia suppresses a wince. Luna could never be cold again, compared to... what she had been, once.

Just... catlike. Dark.

Still... that was disturbing enough.

"Tea parties can be important formative events for young foals," she says matter-of-factly, forcing her voice into obedience. "Their first forays into organized, planned, social events. A filly or colt can learn quite a bit about the importance of organization and discretion –"

"Enough, enough!" Luna says, her words filled with her melodious laughter. As ever, its beauty confuses whether it is amused or mocking. "Your point is well-taken. My question stands."

Celestia sighs. "Once in a great while."

"Perhaps you're not considered an amusing houseguest... ?"

Now Celestia turns, to give Luna's spectral form the unamused look she'd earned for this little needle. Luna's own reputation as a party guest – at least, what it had been at one time – was not a matter for foals at all.

Celestia sighs through a faint frown. "My question stands as well, sister. Is there something you needed?"

Luna's shade makes an offended gesture. "Am I not allowed to check up on my beloved Celestia, when the mood strikes me?"

"Have I done aught to concern you?"

"Do I really need a particular reason?"

For a moment, Celestia holds her tongue lest she say something she doesn't really mean, something laden with hurtful implications about violating trust and breaching privacy.

Once, such thoughts would have been unimaginable – but the offense would have been, too. Once, Luna would not have... skulked.

But that was a long time ago now.

She turns back to the letter, finishing her signature carefully and rolling up the scroll. "Of course not."

Luna says nothing as Celestia pulls up the next letter, this one a request for some advice from one of the academy lectors about next semester's curriculum. Celestia tries to focus on it with Luna's gaze itching the back of her neck, and eventually sets it aside, making a mental note to find the pony in question the next day to discuss the matter.

"As it happens, though, I am here on more than a whim," Luna says, idly, as the next letter flies to Celestia's lectern.

This one is from the Civic Assembly in Baltimare, asking for a contingent of Royal Guardsponies to train the professional police force they're setting up. Celestia scribbles a brief note on it and sets it on a nearby pile that would be sitting on Shining Armor's desk before the sun rose next. "Oh?"

The shadows in the room before her swirled and reformed, and the shade of Luna frowned at her. "There was that special Canterlot Symphony Orchestra recital in the gardens this evening."

"I know."

"That cellist you like, the earth pony – she was playing first chair again."

Next, a report from the Treasury – just routine, though. A formal letter informing her that they were retiring and reminting a series of old bits.

"I'm glad to hear it; I know she's had hard times lately. I was sorry to hear she'd fallen out with her lady friend..."

"Who is a passable violinist, it transpires. They played a lovely duet, although I am myself unfamiliar with the composer – "

Celestia looks up sharply. "It was Perfect Pitch's Pavane for Cello and Violin in C Sharp, opus 63. I could hear it from here. They are truly talented and we're blessed to have them; furthermore, I am happy they've apparently found some peace together," she says, rattling the statements off like she's checking them off a list. "Is there some reason you're taunting me with being unable to attend?"

"Ah, right. Important state business, of course," Luna says, as if in revelation. "Like Ms. Doo's request."

She doesn't intend to be sharp, but Luna's attitude about the poor little filly is bothering Celestia deeply.

"And the Chancellor of the Exchequer's. And Prima Felda of the griffons' latest little note reminding me how annoying she can be about airspace when Cloudsdale Flight Academy is in season. And catching up on my personal correspondence with, among other ponies, you."

She's being... small, she knows, but she pulls a roll of parchment from the stack of completed missives and unrolls it for Luna's inspection nevertheless. "Or did you not want this list of notable novels of the last couple decades... ? I have even marked my personal favorites, as you requested, look..."

Luna's momentary discomfort at being reminded that she was taunting somepony she'd asked a favor of gives Celestia a petty little pleasure deep down, and she immediately hates herself for feeling it.

In fact, she hates everything about this situation.

Once again, we find ourselves face to face on the proverbial bridge only wide enough for one pony to cross at a time. Beneath us, crushing torrents; before us, an obstacle.

One pony must back down or both are lost.

She sighs. "Sister, please. I am just trying to get some work done."

The shadow of Luna looks away, and Celestia knows that if her sister were there in the flesh there'd be no word for her but "sulking". "I merely thought you were... looking forward to it. That was impression when you mentioned it last week, in any case."

Celestia just gestures to the open windows.

"That is not the same at all."

"I am ashamed to say that you are absolutely correct. But –"

"Once upon a time you told me that letters and books stay written, but moments pass like water over a riverbed," Luna interrupts, pointing an accusatory ethereal hoof.

A pause. A long pause, and those do not happen by accident between the royal sisters.

One pony must back down...

"I did say that," Celestia allows.

"Well? I went."

Celestia blinks. "I didn't realize you intended to. You didn't seem that interested."

"It was... somewhat on impulse. I..." Luna's shade cocks its head. "Well, my intent is no longer important. I enjoyed it immensely," she adds, a shade defiantly, as if daring Celestia to doubt it.

"I'm glad," Celestia says, watching the shade carefully.

So... she wanted to be seen with me, hmm? An attempt to curry favor, perhaps... building up to some request, I'll warrant. No, no... don't be paranoid. Maybe she's just trying to be more... visible –

She is interrupted in her thoughts by a twinkling sound and a familiar, rolling puff of green smoke. Celestia instinctively snatches the roll of parchment as it drops out of the air in an act now so practiced that she had once done it in the middle of a meeting without realizing it, and started reading despite the fact that Fancy Pants was still mid-drone.

Luna's spectral form relaxes a little, hints of a smug grin playing across the shadows passing for her face. "Now here is some important correspondence indeed. Another tea party invitation, perhaps..."

Celestia frowns at her –

And realizes she's already opening the letter.

It's a reflex. It really is just automatic.

But frankly... Twilight's letters, recently... well...

It wasn't going to be an emergency. It so very rarely was, and it was usually apparent when – there wouldn't be a neat bow sealing the scroll for one thing.

She'd overreacted when Cheerilee had called on her, and Celestia's only relief was that Luna didn't know, or she'd hear no end of it.

She sighs, re-seals the scroll with the little purple ribbon Twilight has taken to binding her letters with lately – an affectation she'd developed after Spike had accidentally sent Celestia one of Cheerilee's lesson plans – and sets it aside.

Another pebble on the mountain she must traverse even if, to extend the metaphor slightly, that would be calling a jewel a pebble. Twilight's letters were always a pleasure, after all... why not save it for last?

Yes.

That would be nice.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Luna's shade fidget uncomfortably. "What?"

"Aren't you going to read it?"

Celestia looks at it and smiles a gentle little smile. "Oh, I wouldn't dare not," she says, trying to sound dead serious. "Given the content of some of the letters from that particular correspondent, it's entirely possible Ponyville is on fire or something of that nature. But then again, I know the matter is in good hooves."

The shadows serving as a vague embodiment of Luna's wings move in a strange, stilted gesture of discomfort, which sets the darkness rolling across itself, barely noticeable but somehow obvious, like water moving over glass. "Pray don't mind me... "

Celestia just gives her an impatient little look and picks up the next scroll.

Ah, Nimbus Chaser, head of the Weather Service. I wonder, which of your ponies are you covering for this time... ?

She unrolls the scroll and –

"I'll give you some privacy, if that's what you prefer –"

"Luna, honestly!" Celestia says, dropping the letter and turning back to the shadow, which has become faded and indistinct. "Is there something the matter?"

The shadow is dark, save for the three blue lights that betray Luna's presence. She's standing – staring.

A dreadful insight suddenly prowls into Celestia's mind.

"Is there something you're hoping she'll have to say to me?" she asks, as calmly as she can manage. "Or perhaps... something you hope she won't say... ?

What have you been scheming, little sister? If you've been anywhere near them, I'll –

She closes her eyes and carefully analyzes her thoughts. Control, self-control – the greatest and most priceless virtue of an immortal.

I'll... be irritated.

They deserve a life free of meddling.

"I... merely..." Luna says, before reforming more clearly. "Forgive me. I am just used to you being very eager to read her letters. I was, when... well. When I was among her correspondents."

"Yes, well, least said, soonest mended on that subject, hmm?" Celestia says, perhaps a bit more irritably than she meant to.

Luna remains still and silent. Chastened, perhaps, but on a face that's only half-real and made of flickering shadows in any case, it's hard to tell.

Celestia gives her sister a little smile, trying to convey that all is well, but forgiven is not forgotten. "To be perfectly honest, I have been waiting on this letter, yes. Twilight has been preparing her notes for a presentation to the Society of Invokers, and she has been asking me for advice now and again. I'm sure she's just thanking me for loaning her Longshank's Principia Evanesco et Adpareo."

Celestia picks up the letter from Nimbus Chaser with every appearance of seriousness and reads it primly, making a note on a nearby scroll of things to do tomorrow, and picks up the next letter.

It's from the Foal's Hospital in Greenway, which she visited recently when some medicine at Canterlot General had needed to be there much faster than a train could move...

Her eyes roll over the salutation, but don't read it. She blinks her irritation and restarts, trying to force herself to pay attention.

And again.

She sighs, and looks up. Two gleaming blue flames which hint at being eyes look back at her, their intangibility making it impossible to read them... as Luna well knows.

For a moment, Celestia almost regrets helping her figure out how to do this. It had all seemed so fun, back then.

But this was now.

"Luna. Was there anything else?"

The shadows whirl and blur. "Forgive me for intruding on your work, sister. I merely wished to see if there was anything in particular occupying your attention this evening, such that you are... "

The voice fades into silence, although in its strange mystic way, it lingers in the air like smoke.

"I am... what?"

"I merely wonder why you remain in your tower, while the daylight lingers," Luna says, her ethereal gaze straying to the letter from Twilight before snapping back to lock Celestia in a fierce glare. "That bottle of wine is still waiting."

And with that, the blue lights of her being snuff out and she is gone.

Celestia frowns and huffs irritation.

Luna has always enjoyed putting on a show, she reminds herself. She loves being seen to be wise and mystic, delights in secret knowledge and scandalous secrets; and she knew as well as anypony that sometimes she could get a lot more by implying she knew things and finding out what got a reaction.

Her game would become apparent in time; Celestia would outlast her, just going about her business until Luna tangled herself in her own webs of pointless, petty scheming and needed big sister to untangle her again. It would be far from the first time, after all...

Heavens alone knew, of course, but perhaps it would provide them some common ground to reconnect a little bit.

Celestia smiles, faintly.

That... that would be nice.

She picks up the letter from Greenway and begins reading it.

On the far side of the stack, the letter from Twilight goes unheeded, though it nags for her attention. She hadn't lied to Luna – she wouldn't let it go unread. But why not save the pleasure for last? After all, given the nature of Twilight's work it was entirely possible that she'd have to lay down and sleep on the contents before responding.

They would be... precise questions, after all. Specific. Parsed well and carefully planned to get at everything Twilight wanted some input about.

Technical in the extreme.

Questions from a brilliant student to her doting teacher about the deep mysteries of making the universe do what you wanted it to instead of turning everything orange and giving you a headache.

There'd be a lot of... specifics, to consider.

And it would end with a thank you.

Business, in a word. Twilight was so admirably professional. Very good at keeping her personal life separate from her work when she was focused... it was actually sort of funny, sometimes.

She'd get all wrapped up in what she was doing, and forget that the world around her even existed. Ponyville, her friends, the Library, Spike...

Cheerilee...

All of it forgotten in the face of the great mysteries of magic. Her great work.

The place where Celestia fit in her life.

Celestia smiled. She was looking forward to it.

Honestly, she was.

Intimacy.

Once upon a time – too short a time, perhaps – if somepony had managed to get her to express her true feelings on the matter, Cheerilee would have scoffed at the idea that there was some special closeness associated with sex.

She'd had her share of it over the years, and frankly, the silver-shine of romanticism had tarnished quickly. She would have nodded in a self-satisfied sort of way and privately congratulated herself on letting go of the fantasy, pleased to have seen past the smoke and mirrors so young.

Sex (she would have said) was, in the end, just bodies doing pleasant things to each other. It happened, it ended, and it was sort of overestimated in its importance to a relationship. Cheerilee knew firsthand how sex really didn't confirm anything, after all...

But that was before Twilight Sparkle.

That first night had been... special. Sexy and fun as all get out, of course, deeply colored by the thrill of being with another mare, of exploration and the strangely intoxicating sensation of just totally throwing herself into something despite being very nervous about it and what it meant. But there had been more than one new experience besides feeling curves under her hooves rather than a stallion's hard muscles...

For Cheerilee, intimacy was feeling closer to her lover afterwards than she did during.

Lying in somepony else's arms and reveling in just being there, together, not feeling like things were finished and done with because the physical action of sex had ceased, as if it were some sort of transaction.

Not feeling used.

She opens her eyes slowly and smiles at the purple shape clutched in her arms, which is rising and falling gently as Twilight cools down from all the excitement.

If this is a dream, may my rest never end.

There was just something pure about the way Twilight behaved, something fundamentally innocent and gentle even when she was in sexy lioness mode, stalking her oh-so-willing prey across the bedsheets.

That she loved Cheerilee was expressed so freely and openly that it was sometimes a little overwhelming. Most ponies – even happily married ponies – seemed to keep a little distance for each other, an area just for themselves. Not a separation, just a clear distinction between mine and thine, an acknowledgment that I am me and you are you.

For somepony as solitary as Twilight could sometimes be, that distance was very small. Her friends, her Cheerilee – she held them close.

Very close.

It was... intense. And coming from somepony else it might have seemed idealistic and a little foalish, but Cheerilee knew better. Twilight's heart loved deeply despite knowing how much it could hurt, not because it had never been burned or broken. It was a show of truly enviable emotional strength and maturity.

And it made sex with her almost unbearably good, because no matter what was happening, in Twilight's eyes Cheerilee always saw somepony just... loving her, as hard as she could.

Add to that the fact that Twilight was as keen a student of her love's body as she was of everything else and... yeah.

Just...

Yeah.

"Cheerilee?"

The sound of Twilight's voice is muffled slightly, because her muzzle is buried in Cheerilee's chest, clutched there gently by hooves which had been more or less operating in tune with Cheerilee's unstated desire that this wonderful moment never, ever end.

"Hmm?"

"You just... drifted off."

"Hmm? Oh," Cheerilee murmurs, grinning. "Just thinking."

Twilight shifts her head up onto her pillow, taking a moment to plant a brief peck on Cheerilee's lips before settling down again. "About what?"

"You."

Twilight blushes. "Ah. Nothing... bad, I hope."

"Heavens, no," Cheerilee says, reaching up to gently caress Twilight's cheek. The unicorn wiggles happily at the touch with a contented smile. "Just... being happy. I get to do that sometimes, right?"

"I suppose," Twilight smarms, before yawning hugely.

There was a reason Cheerilee dragged her up here, after all. She'd come home to find the Twilight hard at work on her presentation at the library table, just where she'd left her when the schoolbell had needed ringing that morning.

All work and no play makes Twilight a spazzy, wound-up little unicorn. Cute as that can be sometimes, it's not exactly healthy.

And, well, there was the other thing, too. The way Twilight was sorting and re-shelving the library returns telekinetically, apparently without even thinking about it...

Cheerilee tries to put this stressful thought out of her mind, and focuses on the nice warm feeling in her, well, everywhere.

"As if I'd have anything bad to think about you right this very second," Cheerilee says, not fighting the happy little purr in the back of her voice. She grins smugly at Twilight's suddenly curious expression. "I used to think getting a tongue-lashing was a bad thing..."

Twilight suddenly rises, snatching a pillow and swatting at Cheerilee, who laughs and laughs and laughs. "Don't be... I don't know, crass, Cheerilee, that was terrible..."

"Crass? Crass?" Cheerilee manages, between both her laughter and Twilight's buffets with the pillow. "I try to say – ahaha! Stop! I try to say that you... pleasured me beyond all reasonable expectation and you say I'm being crass?"

"Well you should have just said that, not tongue-lashing. Seriously..."

"Oh, okay, fine," Cheerilee says in a voice so sodden with sarcasm it was probably going to stain the floor leaking all over the place like that. "I'll just, you know, practice composing sonnets and essays while you work me over. That's fair. Never mind some of the things you say in the, as we say poetically, ahem, throes of passion."

Twilight sets her pillow down and gives Cheerilee a mock-serious expression, unable to suppress a little smile. "Sounds good to me." Her horn lights, and the grin on her face grows a little hungry. "We'll start now. Just lay back and think of argument construction..."

If she said she wasn't tempted by the gentle, slightly buzzing pressure sneaking up her thighs, Cheerilee would be lying. But the bags under Twilight's eyes –

and the way she'd been shocked to see the books flying around, stunned to see them moving, before turning and giving Cheerilee a placid smile and saying "Oh, that just happens when I'm thinking sometimes. Keeps me calm..."

– make her reach up and gently push Twilight back down onto the bed.

She kisses Twilight's slightly disappointed expression, cheeks and forehead and jaw and finally lips, telling every part of that pouting face to relax and remember it for later. "No more tonight, Twi. Honey. My love. You're exhausted."

Twilight frowns. "I'm – I'm –"

Whatever she was going to say is obliterated in a huge yawn.

Cheerilee giggles as Twilight scowls in embarrassment. "Yes, I'm sure you are. Now... please. For me, honey, just lie down and relax, hmm?"

"Would have been fun," Twilight huffs, as she slips the covers over herself and rolls away. She tosses a little grin over her shoulder to show she doesn't really mean it, which comforts Cheerilee a little.

"I never said never, just not tonight."

Twilight doesn't respond immediately, so Cheerilee pulls the covers over herself as well and settles down into a comfortable position, staring straight up at the bedroom ceiling.

Her bedroom ceiling.

She smiles. Her body is still warm and happy, relaxed as it only really is once Twilight's been at her for a while.

Her eyes begin to close...

"You liked it?"

Cheerilee opens her eyes and turns her head to find Twilight staring at her, looking fretful. "What?"

"The sex. You liked it? You're not just... you know, being nice, right?"

Are you out of your mind? Do you really think you're the only one a little miffed that you look like you're ready to collapse? Heavens above...

"Of course I did," Cheerilee says. She reaches forward and pecks Twilight's lips – they are just sitting there, after all. "Why wouldn't you think I –"

"It's just I didn't... you know, use... um, use magic. I mean, you said we shouldn't. I shouldn't. But, um... I... well, you... like that. The magic." Twilight's expression grows a little pleading. "Right?"

"Twi, I love what you can do. I do, you know that." Cheerilee tries to keep her sudden spike of anxiety off her features. "It's just that sometimes I want to feel you, you know? I'm sorry, did you want to? "

Twilight looks away, chewing her lower lip nervously. Cheerilee frowns concern at her for a moment, but then the horseshoe drops.

It's like... rubber sheets.

"Oh, Twilight," Cheerilee says, hissing anger at herself. "I wasn't thinking about... about that at all. The, er, the trigger. Ah, I was so selfish... I just sort of..."

Wanted to have some nice, comfortable sex with you. Your body, your warmth... not your power.

Cheerilee almost curses at the thought – the petty, tiny, selfish, thought. Magic was as much Twilight Sparkle as anything. She finds a pleasant method of keeping her lips still by pressing them against Twilight's own grateful pair and tries not to hate herself.

You're just... sensitive right now, Cheerilee. Focus on Twilight! She's what matters. You love her, even when she's a little... a little... something. Out there.

Special.

Their lips part, and Cheerilee has to hope her unease at being unable to put words to her beloved unicorn didn't show on her face.

Apparently not, because Twilight gives her a bright smile. "It's okay. It is. Um." She rolls so she can put her hooves against Cheerilee's chest, rubbing them against the elder mare's coat in a vaguely reassuring gesture. "I... I just had to ask –"

"Shhh. No, no you don't. Not ever. I should have been more conscious of your feelings," Cheerilee murmurs, brushing some of Twilight's mane out of the unicorn's big, sleepy eyes. She smiles as a convenient thought occurs. "Hey. This was great. It really was. I hope you enjoyed it too..."

Twilight grins, obviously torn between remaining composed and a desire to gush. "I... yes. I did. Um."

"Mmm." Cheerilee leans in and gives Twilight another firm kiss. "Variety is good. The spice of life."

"Are you saying I was getting boring?"

Cheerilee hisses through her teeth. Crap crap crap wrong direction –

But Twilight is grinning playfully, her anxiety apparently assuaged somewhat. "Best not to risk it, I guess," she murmurs.

"You'd be surprised what can get repetitive," Cheerilee burbles. A relevant memory floats to the top of her mind and she latches onto it gratefully. "I mean, I – when I was –"

She freezes as she realizes what she was about to say.

Oh – this. This might not be such a great thing to tell Twilight about. Might hit close to home –

A thought occurs.

Yes... it would, wouldn't it? Wouldn't that be interesting.

Cheerilee gives Twilight's curious expression a careful look and considers her options.

"When you were... ?" Twilight prompts, smiling very slightly at the familiar game of gently teasing one of Cheerilee's saucier moments out.

Cheerilee takes a deep breath. Twilight knows pretty much everything about the bad old days, but there you were – pretty much everything. It's not that there was anything really needed hiding, so much as things that weren't really important. She still had a few more confessions that may or may not be relevant – like now, for example.

"Remember that stallion I told you about? The one in college? Who really liked... you know... ?" Cheerilee shakes her rump, frowning her mixed feelings about that whole issue.

Twilight winces. "Oooh. Yeah, I can see how that would get... old. Fast."

"Well, once you're used to it it's not so bad, but –" Cheerilee pauses, clearing her throat at Twilight's expression of mixed disbelief and saucy amusement at the elder mare's nonchalance about it. "Yes, it can get... repetitive, and that's not really someplace where you want things to be repetitive, right? Anyways, that's not the point. Um."

"Oh?"

"Well... I left something out of that. Didn't think it was important at the time..."

I may have been drunk when I told you about this, but I wasn't completely dim.

Twilight just looks up at her patiently.

Cheerilee sighs and braces herself, hoping for the best, but preparing for a little freakout. "Well... he... miiiiiight have been one of my creative writing professors."

Twilight's eyes go wide and she coughs. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I know, I know..." Cheerilee murmurs, looking away.

"You slept with a professor? A teacher?" Twilight says, disbelief etched on every syllable, as if it's not even possible.

"Not for grades! Never for grades. It was after I took his class." Cheerilee is proud to see the snake hidden in the tall grass before her hoof does, so to speak, and is gratified when Twilight immediately relaxes a little. Sex with teachers was one thing, but grades were sacrosanct in this library. "He was young, he came to parties sometimes. Very against the rules, but..." She shakes her head. "Fillydelphia isn't Canterlot or Manehattan, you know?"

Twilight blows out a deep breath. "Wow, that's... wow."

"Well, you know, it was... kind of hot," Cheerilee says, grining awkwardly as she realizes she's trying to justify herself in a very bad decision made by a much younger pony. "It was... you know, breaking the rules. And, I mean, when you're that young... someone in authority paying you attention seems..."

"Makes you feel like a real adult," Twilight finishes, for her. She gives Cheerilee a lopsided grin. "I just got invited to symposiums with my academy lecturers when I was in my graduate studies..."

"Yeah, well... you're the good one, and I'm the naughty one. We knew that."

"Oh, don't be mean," Twilight says, leaning forward...

The kiss is... nice, Cheerilee thinks. It's nice to be forgiven, even if you only felt a little guilty for how dumb your nineteen-year-old self was.

She pulls away and gives Twilight a serious look. "The point is that the novelty wore off quick – really quick when I caught him with somepony else, you might say. But I was already bored by then." She sniffs. "He didn't even have the courtesy to be any good."

Cheerilee frowns as Twilight's face screws up in mild discomfort. This little revelation didn't even do a good job of closing the barrel of monkeys she was already wrangling, so much as just open another one.

"I'm sorry to hear it," Twilight says, for something to say more than anything, Cheerilee suspects.

"I was dumb. He wasn't a good pony or a good teacher, so that's all... fine," she replies.

Twilight shudders. "You don't say. That's... mmm. That's beyond not appropriate," she adds, rolling over again.

Cheerilee stares at her back for awhile.

Hmm... well, this feels a bit like sticking a hoof in the hydra's mouth, but...

She puts on a sarcastic grin. "Twilight, of all ponies you can't talk to me about sleeping with teachers –"

Twilight spins, eyes wild. "What?! I... I don't... I never... !"

Cheerilee gestures to herself.

"Oh," Twilight murmurs. "Right."

Internally, Cheerilee groans and rolls her eyes.

Why is being right never any fun... ? And so much work...

It's like cleaning out an open wound, a really ugly one with dirt and rocks in it. It hurts, and is viscerally uncomfortable to deal with on a very fundamental level.

But you have to clean it out before the wound can heal.

"You see the appeal, then. Speaking of keeping things exciting..." she says, hating herself for every word, "I could run around to Bon Bon's shop and get one of those sets of fake wings and a horn –"

"What – oh, heavens, you don't mean –"

Cheerilee rises to look down on Twilight from above, affecting an aloof, serious expression. "Oh, Twilight, my most prized student! I'm so pleased with your latest work!" she declares, trying to ignore the bile rising in her gut. "Please let me show you my apprecia–"

"Stop it!"

And Cheerilee is paralyzed as every part of her body is instantly obedient to the command.

Twilight is staring up at her through tears blooming in terrified eyes.

Ah, self-loathing. I thought I knew you from all those times I woke up in beds I didn't remember getting into...

"Stop it, Cheerilee! Please!"

Cheerilee tries to give her a grin. "Shh... okay, okay. I was just kidding –"

"That's not funny," Twilight murmurs. "Okay? It's... it's not."

"Okay," Cheerilee says, reaching out for Twilight. "Shhh... I'm sorry, Twilight."

Twilight sniffles a little as she shies away from the embrace. "No, you... you need to understand, Cheerilee... I could never... I wouldn't insult her that way... she's..."

"Insult?"

"Yes!" Twilight says through clenched teeth, before looking away, staring out a window at the distant moon.

The moon...

"Why would the princess be insulted by you feeling that way about her?" Cheerilee asks, trying to put some life in a voice which wants to be hollow with the immensity of the confirmation of something she's always quietly suspected. "Rarity and Rainbow Dash weren't. I most certainly am not... and... and more to the point, Princess Luna wasn't –"

Twilight's eyes light up with pain at the mention of the princess of the moon. She's a bit of a sore subject, even months later. "See? You don't understand. It's... different. She and I... she's my teacher. I love her – as a teacher. As somepony to admire, to... to look up to. I'd never... never dream of..."

She trails off, sniffling.

Cheerilee's heart throbs as she realizes what should have been obvious.

Twilight doesn't believe she's good enough to even think about Celestia that way.

On one hoof, she has to admit that it's slightly annoying to have somepony else's sexuality prized above her own... but on the other, Cheerilee wasn't dumb and she certainly wasn't blind. She'd read more odes to Celestia's beauty and grace than she could count.

And to live so close to her, to be given so much special attention, respect and yes, love... gentle, tender, born of true affection...

She'd be stunned if Twilight didn't feel at least pangs of desire for the princess.

Oh, heavens... it must be crushing her, inside. To desire something, and hate herself for desiring it... no wonder she was so struck by Luna, even when things were going bad...

"What?!" Twilight roars.

"Did I say that out loud?" Cheerilee murmurs. "Shi– crap."

Twilight's eyes are ablaze with indignant rage. "Luna was different," she snarls. "Luna was... intoxicating. Hard to let go of. She... you..." The unicorn shakes her head. "Is this about her? Are you still worried I think of you as some kind of... consolation prize? I don't see her in my house – and I'm glad! I don't want to see her!"

Wow so this is not going well oh heavens what have I done

Cheerilee waves her hooves in front of her face desperately. "Twilight, calm down, please! I'm just trying to understand about you and Celestia –"

"You want to know about the princess? I'll tell you about her! You don't have to play games or make fun of me!" Twilight snaps. She sniffs bitterly. "Oh, yes. Everypony loves to tease me. Even Rainbow Dash, while I was in her bed, having just had sex with her, teased me about Celestia because of Luna. 'You've just got a thing for ponies with both wings and horns', she said."

"Twilight, look, please – I just want to talk about this!"

"I am talking!"

Cheerilee grimaces helplessly. "No, you're yelling, Twi..."

"Well... that's fine! I don't do it enough! Everypony... mmm. They just don't get it. She's my teacher. I've known her for a very, very long time, and she has always treated me with kindness and respect, even when I was just a filly, or being stupid. She has given me everything. Heavens above, Cheerilee, of all ponies you should be grateful to her!" Twilight taps Cheerilee's chest, hard, with a hoof, but that doesn't hurt half as bad as her furious expression. "When I was in Canterlot after Luna rejected me... I was ready to give up. I almost came back here and canceled our first date, because I was so messed up and hurt. But she encouraged me to go to you with an open heart. That's what she does, Cheerilee. She helps me be... strong. Be who I am."

"Well, then, I'm glad. But –"

Twilight's anger somehow finds a way to darken further. "No. But nothing. She is the princess. She is special and my relationship with her is special. I don't... I don't need my flanks to feel close to her. It's enough that she even pays attention to me at all. That I'm still her friend even though I don't study under her as often as I used to anymore."

Cheerilee can't help noticing Twilight's tone is distracted, not really directed at her or ponydom in general anymore. In fact, it almost sounded like she was talking to –

A dreadful awareness grabs Cheerilee's heart.

Oh, heavens. She's reminding herself...

"Twilight... look," Cheerilee begins, hesitantly.

Twilight closes her eyes, but says nothing through her clenched teeth, merely taking big, deep breaths.

"I... I know you're angry. I'm sorry. I should have just... asked. But after she came here, and with... how you acted when I told you about her, I've been... I don't know, uh..."

Twilight's eyes snap open. "Worried? Jealous?"

"That's unfair, and you know it," Cheerilee says, as harshly as she dares. She relaxes when Twilight is visibly chastened at being stood up to. "Twilight, I love you. But your life with her – it's all so huge. I don't understand it –"

"That much is clear."

Cheerilee closes her eyes.

She's angry. She's scared. She's hurt. Just ignore it.

"Yes. I don't understand. But I want to, okay? I'm sorry for hurting your feelings, but you need to understand..." She shakes her head. "It's all so huge. It's scary. It's something important about you that makes you feel so far away from me. But it's big for you, too. You can talk to me."

Twilight frowns, but it's not angry, not really. Grumpy, perhaps. Irritable. "You've always known about her. It's not some big secret."

"It's one thing to know and quite another to have her right there in front of you, you know?" Cheerilee exclaims. "Twi, honey. This is so big, and complicated. Just... talk to me."

"What do you want to hear? I just--"

"Twilight. I love you," Cheerilee says, looking Twilight straight in the eye. "You can tell me anything."

The hunted look that flashes across Twilight's face at the slight emphasis on "anything" tells her she's hit the mark, but it's not enough. It has to be safe for Twilight before she'll talk.

Cheerilee reaches out and puts a hoof on one of Twilight's, comforted when her unicorn doesn't even flinch or make a move to avoid the touch.

"I'm not going anywhere," Cheerilee says, as seriously as she can. "I am right here. For you. No matter what."

For a very long while, those beautiful amethyst eyes just bore into her own, Twilight's face betraying nothing besides the fact that she is still pretty upset, but is trying to keep a lid on it.

There is nothing to do but wait.

"I... I have known the princess for a very long time," Twilight murmurs, finally. "She has been so good to me, Cheerilee, you... can't even imagine. She's always been there. Always been ready to listen, and happy to teach, and... oh, heavens. She's so... beautiful, and perfect..."

O, the sun, blessed orb and soul // perfection, radiant and true // shining ever, stutt'ring never

Cheerilee forces herself not to roll her eyes at the little snatch of disgustingly purple poetry. She was tempted, very tempted, to go back in time and smack its author, Merryweather, over the head and tell her that there's such a thing as overdoing it.

Also that her word choice was atrocious and the only reason anypony read her work was because she was rich back when that mattered and as such she was "famous", sort of.

And that it was unhelpful at the moment and Cheerilee personally cursed that it had been stuck in her head since her parents had made her recite it back when she was just a filly.

She's brought back into the world by Twilight's sigh, a truly wretched thing mangled by sniffles, doing its best not to be something like a sob. Cheerilee bites her lower lip and gently rubs Twilight's hoof.

I'm here, my love. Just let it out. We'll be okay.

I hope.

"I... sometimes I... wonder, you know?" Twilight moans. "I wonder what she wants. Why she pays any attention to me. Why she chose me, why she's still... here. In my life, I mean, not here here. What I – why she... why..."

A single tear leaks out as the unicorn slams her eyes shut and pounds her free hoof on the bed. Cheerilee moves to shush her, but Twilight suddenly leaps to her hooves and wanders over to the bedroom balcony, where an impressive array of telescopes are pointed heavenwards.

Twilight is silent for a moment, staring out at Ponyville. When she speaks again, it comes calm and cool, but heavy with thought.

"I've seen her, you know? When she's alone, or just sort of... thinking. And I can't help but wonder what's going on in her head. What she wants. How she has all these wonderful plans, and ideas, and somehow always seems to know the right thing to say. I mean, you say that Celestia makes me feel far from you, but I feel the same way about her, you know? She's something beyond me, something I don't really understand..."

Cheerilee can't help herself. She can feel the shape of the story, almost as if she could hold it in her hooves. "But sometimes..."

Twilight turns, and gives Cheerilee a very solemn and apologetic look. "But sometimes she feels very close."

Sisters are close. A parent is close to her child. Friends are close.

"Twilight... it's okay," Cheerilee begins, despite her heart fluttering with discomfort, but Twilight's expression grows hurt. She's forcing out the confession.

Get it out, honey. I'm here...

"It's when she's sad," Twilight whispers. "It's so rare, but I've seen it. Like, once, an old friend of hers died and I saw her mourning him. She just... it was a letter, letting her know. She just seemed to shrink, and everything so huge and magical about her was... I don't know. Not gone, but... it all seemed unreal, like when you suddenly look up from a really good book and realize – oh, right, it's all fiction. It was just for a moment, but in that moment she seemed..."

"She seemed close enough to touch," Cheerilee says, almost under her breath.

"Yes." Twilight swallows a guilty sob, but turns a stern look on Cheerilee. "I love her, Cheerilee. She is so important to me. But sometimes, I don't know what to think about her, or what I feel. When she's there, it's easy. She makes it easy, just by... being, you know what I mean? It all just... happens."

Cheerilee resists an urge to roll her eyes and say something sarcastic.

As a matter of fact, I don't know what you mean, dearest.

Twilight doesn't notice. Her eyes wander back towards the open sky – northwards, towards the mountains and Canterlot. "But when I'm alone... when I try to figure it out... I just don't know. But I know I love her."

Cheerilee just stares. No words come to mind.

But a thought occurs.

Intimacy. Closeness. Openness. Total exposure.

Not always so nice... but always important.

Twilight's expression grows pained, distant starlight dancing in her eyes. "Let's just say... it's no surprise to anypony that I ended up with a teacher."

One of the little quirks of routine in the Ponyville Library was that Saturday mornings belonged to Cheerilee.

Teaching was not a job for late risers, and even on the days when she was not being called to duty at the schoolhouse she usually saw the front end of the dawn, mostly out of habit. Contrariwise, some ponies lived in their place of work and would, if they weren't pressed, get up five minutes before opening, unlock the door, and then wander back upstairs and fall asleep again.

Part of that was Twilight's increasingly common late nights of working as the date of her presentation loomed, but the other part of it was that like many permanent students, for Twilight Sparkle the day had always started at noon, and she'd seen little reason to change that schedule since.

Cheerilee, sitting in her customary seat at the little cafe across from Town Hall, sips her coffee and watches Ponyville happen.

All things considered, she ought to be flattered.

She got it. She understood.

She was, herself, a teacher, after all, and not exactly an old mare quite yet. They'd warned her about it in school – it's perfectly natural. Almost everypony has a crush on a teacher when they're young and their sexuality is beginning to kick into gear. If she had a bit for every young pony who had in the past had a little schoolcolt or schoolfilly crush on her, she'd have... well, at least enough to buy herself a good strong drink, which she could probably stand at this point.

Dontcha have a very special somepony for Hearts and Hooves Day!?

Cheerilee twitches. For a terrible moment she'd feared Apple Bloom was going to join their ranks...

But no, that had been even worse, hadn't it? Dragging her and Mac together like that.

Oh heavens, those three... I'd kill them if they didn't manage to be so innocent about everything.

She sips her coffee again, and sets that aside for now.

The point was that... well, how else to put this?

Twilight had a thing for teachers. And when you considered who, in that lovely purple head of hers, was the capital-T, dictionary-definition, ultimate Teacher, it was pretty damn flattering to be grouped in with her.

But there you were. She was being set up against a princess.

Again.

Well... sort of.

The worst part is she couldn't even really bring herself to be angry or offended by all of it.

That would have been easy, in a way. Petty, perhaps, small of her... but easy. If only she merely had to sort of wake Twilight up from fantasies about goddesses and join her here, in the real world.

But it's almost the exact opposite.

Twilight, her beloved, wonderful mare... was afraid.

She didn't understand what she was feeling, and it frightens her. Yes, she loves the princess, and yes, the princess is an ideal for her – quite justifiably! And Cheerilee presses all the right buttons in her mind...

Except the magical ones, of course, she thinks with a grimace.

But it was about more than little pangs of desire or the complexities of everypony's sexual psychology, which was always sticky. Heavens knew that Twilight's appeal for Cheerilee was at least a little bit in how she was, so fundamentally, an ideal student – always learning, working hard, being smart and curious – but it's best not to think too hard about that and just sort of accept that it just helped the puzzle pieces fit together somewhere deep down, so to speak.

No, no. This was about more than just that. The sex stuff, the crushes and impulses, just confused the issue.

This... this is Twilight growing up.

She'd always existed in a state of arrested development, in a way. That she had been a virgin until very recently – both literally and in the more figurative sense of being virginal of romantic life in general – was a great example of that, but in truth far from the only one.

Twilight was – or at least, had been – Celestia's student, here in Ponyville at least under the pretense of researching the Magic of Friendship. Sometimes, Cheerilee got the distinct impression that the princess had kicked Twi out of the Academy just so she'd be forced to exist in the real world with everypony else, considering the things Twilight would just... not know, or would thoughtlessly do. Like how she was very strict in scheduling but was very used to operating on her own timetable set about four hours after everypony else's, because as a student for years she'd never gotten in the habit of being up and around before noon if she didn't have to be.

But that was changing.

She'd grown in the last, oh, three-quarters of a year or so. A lot had happened, not least of all that she'd meandered her way into the hearts and beds of some of the most desirable mares in Ponyville and had, to be perfectly frank, begun settling down with Cheerilee – the first of her friends to really find somepony.

So she had to think about the Princess. And where the princess fit in her life as an adult.

Between the sheets was definitely an option, in the dark of the night... but the really horrible thing is that it was only one of a great many, and the truth was that Twilight couldn't bring herself to think she deserved to even want any of them.

And that was complex enough without having to wonder about Celestia. Twilight's crisis was a headache, but the princess... ?

Even Twilight, who is as close to Celestia as anypony, has no idea what's going on underneath that crown. It's not like you can just wander up and ask, for heaven's sake.

Cheerilee sighs.

If she'd known falling for Twilight was going to involve dealing not one but both princesses, at least in her own mind if not Twilight's or anypony else’s, she might have given it up as too much of a hassle long ago.

She almost had, once.

Twilight looks up, her eyes pleading through tears. "Don't go. Please," Twilight whispers.

Cheerilee's hoof is still sore from how desperately the unicorn had grabbed it, and so much in her mind is telling her that it's safer to walk away, that this is the same old song and dance again. Somepony begging her not to go merely because they're used to the comfort of being in a relationship, even though it had died long ago.

And further, even this early, she is beginning to realize that being with Twilight Sparkle is something bigger than she imagined, that the magic and the amazing sex and the courageous, unhidden love come accompanied by a pony who is part of things that transcend history and resemble myth...

But something deep down refuses to listen. Not only wants to believe, but does believe that Twilight Sparkle loves her, and this was all a mistake. A misunderstanding. That walking in and listening could resolve everything...

It was a big risk. A leap of faith, as they said.

She could turn away. She could...

"But I didn't..." she murmurs, swirling her cup and watching the cream make little trails as it swishes in the thick, black coffee.

She had not turned away; and now, because of that, she literally rather than merely figuratively lived in the Library. This very morning she had woken up and the first thing she'd seen was Twilight's tongue hanging out of her mouth as she snored, which was perhaps lacking in romance but inestimably comforting in how mundane and real it was. And then she'd taken a very quick shower, in a bathroom that was hers, and now she was here.

This was her life.

Not the one she'd imagined as a filly, and certainly not with the pony she'd thought she'd be with, but –

"Miss Cheerilee," rumbles a voice, interrupting her thoughts.

Cheerilee looks up into the big green eyes of the stallion she once thought would be that pony across the cafe table.

Her heart freezes for a second, like it always does, but then the moment passes as if it never was.

That was a long time ago, after all.

She nods. "Macintosh."

They hold that pose for a second, as they sometimes do. She swears his lips even move, as if he wants to say something to her; but his eyes are wary. He knows she's onto at least a little of what he's been up to with Twilight's friends, and can't possibly be happy about it...

But the moment passes. No harm done.

He nods, giving her a little half-smile, before turning to wander away down the road that eventually led up a dusty trail past a white picket fence, where a barnyard and three more Apples waited for him. She doesn't turn to watch him, just staring out across the street at nothing in particular and sipping her coffee.

His hoofbeats begin to grow distant...

"Mac, wait."

She doesn't realize she'd indulged the impulse until she sees him freeze suddenly out of the corner of her eye. It's enough to alarm her, make her stir and turn to him.

Big Mac turns back and approaches her table warily. She watches every step, taking a sip from her cup to hide the way her lip is trembling under the weight of a question that's grown heavy with not being asked for years and years.

"Is there... somethin' Ah can do for you?"

Cheerilee glances up at him. He's still nervous; but just as it did back then, it just makes him look coltish and sweet. She can't help thinking it's a bit deceptive, but kicks herself internally for doing so. Bitterness solves nothing, especially since she wants to ask –

"Do you ever think about... what it would have been like?"

Mac's ears prick up in alarm, and for a moment his expression is confused. This wasn't the knife he'd been expecting.

Might be a worse one.

"Been like if..."

"If I'd stayed here. With you."

Mac pauses, clearly taken on the wrong hoof. He'd probably been expecting a lecture about playing nice with Twilight's friends, not navel-gazing about ancient history.

He frowns. "Why d'ya ask?"

Cheerilee sighs.

The truth is, she can't help herself. Even now, sometimes she lies awake at night, in the arms of another mare – a beautiful mare who she loves more deeply and more intensely than she knew she could love somepony – and thinks about her son and two daughters, and making dinner for Mac and Applejack as they're coming in from the orchards, and keeping an eye on her little sister-in-law and Granny Smith...

She winces.

A different world. A different life. One separated from the one she lives by a single moment.

"Just answer the question," she hears herself say.

Mac settles back into what was, for him, a thoughtful pose. "Nah."

Cheerilee's surprised to find the answer... hurts. "Never?"

"Nah," Mac repeats. He leans forward, and suddenly his usually placid expression grows hard and serious. "Ain't worth thinkin' on, Miss Cheerilee. You didn't stay, and that's how it is."

Cheerilee holds his gaze for a moment before looking away, unsure what to say next. Mac just looks down at her, expression more or less neutral.

It would have been easier if he'd said yes, somehow; it might have been interesting to compare notes. But instead, as ever, he sticks to what is as a guide for life.

"Sorry," Cheerilee mutters. "Don't mind me, Mac."

"Is..." Mac begins, but he bites his lip, as if unsure he wants to go on. He closes his eyes and shakes his head to clear the doubts, and turns a cautious look on Cheerilee. "Everything alright with you an' Miss Sparkle?"

There is a shameful, uncharitable part of her which wants to say I don't see what business that is of yours. You don't even miss me enough to wonder what kind of wife I would have been. She is mildly proud of stamping that particular impulse into submission before it sees the light of day, even though that's far from the worst or most foolishly petty thing she's ever wanted to say to him in hurt.

She sips her coffee, not looking at him.

Mac sighs. "Ah'm sorry. Ah should get goin' –"

"What should I do, Mac?"

It's a whine. There's no other word for it: a small, pathetic little sound that begs anypony who hears it to reach out and save her.

Mac blinks a few times, as if he can't believe his ears.

She looks up at him, holding his bright emerald eyes with her own, and silently begs him to be her big, strong stallion again, for just a moment. But her voice says, in a firmer tone: "If you had any advice –"

"Well, Ah don't know what it is you need advice about, Cheerilee –"

"Just... advice. In general. For me."

He looks at her awhile, in an appraising sort of way. Cheerilee hopes her face is firm and admirably determined-looking, but somehow she doubts it.

Mac throws back his head and blows out a breath, as if to say: well, here goes nothing...

"Ah reckon... Ah reckon you're the mare I feel sorriest for in mah whole life."

"What?!"

He looks down at her, his eyes sad – but honestly sad, not condescending. Almost mournful.

"Ah'd say... Cheerilee, Ah think the world keeps happenin' to you, well past your fair share by now. For one thing, you agreed to teach the foals here in Ponyville, you poor filly..."

Cheerilee concedes this point with a half-amused huff.

"But... look, hon," he says, giving her a sad smile. "If you were to tell me any problem of yours, Ah bet you a bent bit mah advice would be the same no matter what it was. Life's tossed you around, lil' mare. Some of that has been because sometimes you didn't know when to just walk away..."

Cheerilee's eyes go wide.

This again? You son of a manticore, I'll tear your tongue out –

"And sometimes it's been because you didn't quite put your hooves down and just refuse to move an inch," Mac finishes, nodding. "There's no room for half-hearts, especially when the really expensive chips are down. Make your move and stick with it. Eeyup."

As he says this, something smart deep down in Cheerilee's mind drags her back, once again, to the moment when a tearful, terrified Twilight Sparkle stared up at her from the doorstep of the library, begging her to stay, to come inside, to give the unicorn another chance. To believe that Twilight was truly sorry and wanted her to stay.

She'd actually wanted to leave, been very tempted. She had a lot of really good reasons to – not least the big red one she was talking to at the moment.

But then...

The part of her which loved Twilight Sparkle had planted its hooves in the earth and refused to let her fear, and the old hurts, and all the bad memories make her turn and walk away.

She could have. She might even have been right to.

But she didn't.

The best moment of her entire life.

And now she lived in the Library, sharing a deep, rich love with a silly little unicorn who made her so, so happy.

"I think you're probably right, Mac," Cheerilee whispers.

"Well, Ah may not waste time thinkin' on worlds where things that didn't happen did, but that don't mean I don't think about you now and again," he replies, in an equal hush.

They smile at one another.

Mac winks. "Yer as clever a mare as there ever was. You an' Twilight Sparkle together's got a lot of ponies worried. Ah think you can think yer way through whatever's troublin' you, no problem. Then you dig yer hooves in deep and don't back down for anypony. You hear?"

"I hear," Cheerilee says, grinning.

"Ah'll be seein' you, then," Mac rumbles, and turns and walks off, delayed in his many, many chores only very slightly.

Cheerilee watches him go, sipping the very dregs of her coffee.

First, I'm going to go home, and kiss Twilight. Because I love her.

And then...

She smiles.

And then she'd dig her hooves in.